Movie Review: The Wailing (2016)
Synopsis
“The Wailing”, directed by Na Hong-jin, is a tightly woven tale of horror and supernatural dread, set in a remote South Korean village named Goksung. This small community, nestled in the shadows of sprawling mountains, becomes the epicentre of a mysterious epidemic following the arrival of a stranger—a Japanese man who appears to be a harbinger of chaos. As the village grapples with unexplainable deaths and violent outbursts, police officer Jong-goo (played by Kwak Do-won) finds himself pulled into an investigation that not only threatens his moral compass but also his family’s well-being.
Jong-goo’s life unravels when his daughter, Hyo-jin (Kim Hwan-hee), starts to exhibit alarming symptoms, leading him to confront the enigmatic and seemingly malevolent stranger (Tadashi Osamu). As the tensions escalate, suspicions begin to swirl around the newcomer and an array of folkloric beliefs come into play, framing the narrative with an uncanny sense of realism. With the village engulfed in paranoia and violence, Jong-goo’s efforts to save his daughter culminate in a haunting exploration of guilt, fear, and the unknown.
List of Actors and Characters
- Kwak Do-won as Jong-goo, the beleaguered police officer.
- Kim Hwan-hee as Hyo-jin, Jong-goo’s daughter.
- Hwang Jung-min as the mysterious stranger (Japanese man).
- Jung Min-ah as the shaman, a pivotal character shrouded in folklore and mysticism.
- Cho Yeo-jeong as the storekeeper’s wife, who becomes implicated in the chaotic events.
- Oh Seung-ha as the local woman affected by the strange events.
- Lee Jae-jin as Jong-goo’s colleague, who mirrors the village’s descent into chaos.
Review
“The Wailing” is an intricately layered narrative that brilliantly combines elements of horror, drama, and psychological depth. From the very first frame, Na Hong-jin establishes a palpable sense of unease, beautifully captured by Hong Kyung-pyo’s cinematography. The film’s visuals are stunning, with the idyllic yet ominous landscape of Goksung serving as a primary character in its own right. The lush green mountains juxtaposed against the dark happenings infuse the narrative with a sense of raw beauty marred by impending doom.
What sets “The Wailing” apart from traditional horror is its deeply embedded cultural references and its exploration of human psychology. The film weaves traditional Korean folklore with contemporary elements, creating a cultural tapestry that speaks volumes about superstition in a modern context. As the villagers deteriorate into madness and violence, Na crafts an examination of the communal psyche, invoking questions about how fear can ripple through a society, transforming neighbour into foe.
The performances are exceptional, with Kwak Do-won delivering a standout portrayal of a man desperate to protect his family while grappling with feelings of helplessness. His character arc—from a somewhat bumbling officer to a desperate father—anchors the narrative and elicits both sympathy and tension. His interactions with his daughter, played by Kim Hwan-hee, bring emotional weight to the film, particularly when Hyo-jin exhibits unsettling behaviour. The bond between father and daughter is executed with tenderness, making the horror they face even more unbearable.
Hwang Jung-min’s portrayal of the stranger is equally compelling. His unsettling presence looms over the village, and the ambiguity surrounding his character forces viewers to confront their own prejudices and fears. Is he truly responsible for the horrors unfolding, or is he merely a scapegoat for the villagers’ rising paranoia? This ambiguity is central to “The Wailing,” as it challenges audiences to contemplate the nature of evil. The film skilfully navigates themes of blame and scapegoating, demonstrating how communities can unearth ignorance and fear during times of crisis.
Supporting performances, particularly by Jung Min-ah as the shaman, add layers of complexity to the narrative. Her mystical aura and the shamanistic rituals become catalysts for the unfolding events, creating a bridge between the rational and the irrational. The reliance on traditional beliefs illustrates a fascinating dynamic between science and superstition, reminding viewers of humanity’s intrinsic need to understand the unexplainable.
Na Hong-jin’s meticulous direction creates a rhythm that balances moments of terror with quieter, introspective scenes. There are numerous instances where tension builds slowly, drawing viewers in with an eerie calm before erupting into chaos. The editing by Kim Sun-min and sound design work in unison to amplify this unsettling atmosphere; every creak, whisper, and sudden noise heightens the viewer’s sense of dread. The film employs eerie silence and sudden, jarring sound, ensuring that the jump scares are not just moments of shock but are rooted in the characters’ emotional landscapes.
One of the film’s most striking qualities is its length. Clocking in at just over two and a half hours, “The Wailing” deftly escalates its narrative tension, allowing time for character development and world-building. The pacing may feel languid to some, but it serves to envelop the audience in its grim environment, thus enhancing the impact of the film’s climax.
In this climactic finale, the film dives into its most disturbing themes, revealing the extent of Jong-goo’s sacrifice and the toll of fear. The conclusion is both shocking and ambiguous, leaving the audience to grapple with lingering questions regarding guilt, innocence, and the true nature of evil. Na Hong-jin does not offer simple answers but instead invites reflections on a societal level, inspiring viewers to confront their own biases and the darkness within communal living.
On the technical front, “The Wailing” excels in bringing together cinematography, sound design, and production design to create a world that feels authentically lived in. The use of colour is particularly noteworthy; as the horror escalates, the cinematographic palette shifts to darker tones, reflecting the moral decay of the village. The meticulous attention to period-appropriate details provides an immersive experience that draws viewers deeper into the narrative.
In conclusion, “The Wailing” is not merely a horror film; it is a profound meditation on fear and its capacity to fracture human relationships, both familial and communal. It challenges its audience to ponder the nature of evil while delivering moments of visceral horror that linger long after the credits roll. With stellar performances, a haunting soundtrack, and masterful direction, this film stands as a monument in contemporary horror cinema.
Score: 9/10
