Fiancée of Dracula (2002)

Both Jean Rollin and Jess Franco are often mentioned in the same breath by both fans and critics of Euro cult cinema and the connection is understandable. While there are numerous differences in the way both approached filmmaking, there are some striking similarities which make the two kindred spirits. Rollin finishing the notorious Zombie Lake (1981) after Franco had abandoned the project not withstanding. A journey through the filmographies of both Rollin and Franco sees the gradual formation of personal cinematic worlds in which both relished retreating into with both returning time and time again to similar ideas, both thematically and visually, locations, obsessions and in several cases casting the same actors. In Rollin’s case, some of the usual suspects would be the constant use of two females as protagonists, cemeteries, the Dieppe beach, childhood nostalgia and of course, vampires. Despite Rollin’s and Franco’s constant returning to similar material never did it seem redundant. No matter how familiar the subject matter seemed both always approached it from a different angle and by the time the new millennium had arrived both men’s biggest influence had essentially become themselves with each film becoming more and more self-referential. Rollin followed up his return to the vampire subgenre, Two Orphan Vampires (1997) with Fiancée of Dracula, one of Rollin’s most surreal works and a film that once again finds Rollin drawing on his past is fresh ways.

While staking out a cemetery, a vampire expert professor and his assistant Thibault witness a dwarf calling upon his vampire lover and soon after accost the dwarf and begin interrogating him about his leader. Both the dwarf and his vampire woman are “parallel” creatures, supernatural beings living in the real world under the control of Count Dracula. Isabelle, a mysterious woman being held prisoner in a convent has been promised to Dracula, a union which the professor and Thibault are attempting to stop, however they’re plan is interrupted when Isabelle escapes the convent with the help of the parallel’s. Things become more complicated when Thibault begins falling for Isabelle as he and the professor face off against more parallel creatures in their desperate attempt to stop Isabelle’s marriage to Dracula and prevent her crossing over into Dracula’s parallel realm.

As is the case with most Rollin films, narrative cohesiveness takes a backseat to the visual poetry on display, however Fiancée of Dracula (La fiancée de Dracula, The Bride of Dracula) is nonetheless one of Rollin’s busiest films in terms of plot. There are several different things going on at once and each direction taken by the story only serves to make the film all the more bewildering and nonsensical with Rollin’s random stream of consciousness storytelling ultimately having the film cast the same beguiling spell Dracula has put Isabelle under on its audience. Again, the film see’s Rollin calling upon his past films for inspiration yet never once does the film seem pastiche as all the visual references take on a different context. The most recognizable visual motif would be the use of the vampire appearing from inside a grandfather clock ala The Shiver of the Vampires (1971), however in this film Dracula uses the clock as a portal of sorts transporting himself to several different areas via the clock and its use during the films finale on Rollin’s favorite beach recalls the climax of The Nude Vampire (1970). The film also sees Rollin expanding upon what he began with Two Orphan Vampires by adding other otherworldly creatures in the mix such as witches, an ogress and Brigitte Lahaie in the role a she-wolf. Rollin also incorporates a group of mad nuns who’s antics inject a healthy dose of absurd comedy into the film which only adds to its already off-center tone.

Along with all the visual cues, Rollin also harkens back to his debut feature film The Rape of the Vampire (1968) via the one of the lines of dialogue that ended that film when Isabelle recites “I am the small boy who went to look for your scarf by the sea… Dear, dear oh dear Cordelia!” This also doubles as a reference to Gaston Leroux and Phantom of the Opera. Leroux was clearly a major influence on the film. One particular line of dialogue repeated throughout the film and in some ways could be considered the films mantra, “The presbytery has lost none of its charms nor the garden its colors” is a line from Leroux’s The Mystery of the Yellow Room and Leroux’s Queen of the Sabbath is seen when Isabelle is introduced. Exactly what it all means is left open to interpretation but the way in which Rollin incorporates these literary influences within the engagement of Dracula and Isabelle give way to another Rollin trademark, the idea of doomed romanticism. Rollin would only make two more films before his passing, the deeply personal and even more self-referential La nuit des horloges (2007) and Le masque de la Méduse (2010). Despite all the health issues that may have held him back, a film like Fiancée of Dracula is proof positive that Rollin was still more than capable of delivering a surrealist masterpiece.

O Happy Day (1970)

AKA 17 and Anxious, Heiße Teens aus gutem Haus and I desideri morbosi di una sedicenne

Unlike fellow Czech filmmakers such as Věra Chytilová, Miloš Forman, Jiří Menzel and Jan Němec, Zbynek Brynych sadly doesn’t seem to be a familiar name to many western aficionados of eastern European cinema. At least in America it seems, however there was a time when that might not have been the case. In 1968 when the Czech New Wave was a big deal and all the aforementioned names amongst several others became ones to drop, Brynych’s holocaust based masterpiece The Fifth Horseman is Fear (1964) made it to the States to glowing reviews. Roger Ebert even called it “a nearly perfect film”. Brynych always had a taste for the unusual and had no qualms about crossing over into genre material as evidenced by his odd Nazi sci-fi thriller I, Justice (1968) and even with its display of holocaust based real world terror, all the expressionist touches found in The Fifth Horseman is Fear do bring with them a feeling of surreality. In 1970, Brynych found himself in West Germany and while there his appreciation for films of an off center nature came to the forefront when he helmed O Happy Day, Angel’s With Burnt Wings (1970) and Femmine carnivore (1970), three of the strangest films to fall under the banner of “Euro cult” with O Happy Day having the distinction of being one of the most bizarre coming of age films ever made.

Favoring randomness over coherent storytelling, O Happy Day is essentially a plotless affair detailing the going’s on in the life of Anna (Anne-Marie Kuster), a 17 year old catholic girls school student. Despite being from a well-off family and having a seemingly good relationship with her boyfriend, Anna is dissatisfied. Like most teens her age Anna is terminally bored, feels her parents don’t understand her, is confused about what she wants out of life, full of raging hormones and just wants to be happy.

On paper it sounds like a relativity simple coming of age teen drama, however Brynych approaches the material in the most berserk manner possible, resulting in a film that’s incomparable to anything else. Anna has a habit of daydreaming as does Brynych and as a result the film has a tendency to drift in and out of fantasy without warning, leading to scenes involving dancing nuns and people cackling like maniacs for no apparent reason (something that would become a staple in Brynych’s other two German films from the same year) with Brynych’s camera going wild with delirious zooms, fish-eye lenses and constant movement to dizzying effect. The film is also overflowing with 70’s psychedelic kitsch by way of its hilariously exaggerated portrayal of hippies, select music choices and fashions on display as well as the interior design of Anna’s room, the surreal posters adorning her wall which come into play rather conveniently during one of Anna’s memorable dreams. As frivolous as the film is, it also has a fair amount of heart as Anna is a very likable and engaging character who’s easy to root for thanks to the presence and gusto performance of Anne-Marie Kuster who clearly enjoys being in front of the camera and really makes the situations Anna is going through seem more than simple and typical “nobody understands” teen nonsense. The moment when Anna spills her guts after her frustration with her parents finally boils over is very emotional and heartfelt with Kuster’s delivery coming across as genuine.

The film gets its namesake “O Happy Day” from the pop/gospel song “Oh Happy Day” by the Edwin Hawkins Singers which is heard repeatedly throughout the film and its use in the final moments of the film is quite hilarious given the context of the scene and Anna’s voiceover narration. Brynych would use a similar tactic for his next film, the equally eccentric Angels With Burnt Wings, taking the title of the film from the Peter Thomas Sound Orchestra song “Angels Who Burn Their Wings” which plays numerous times during the course of the film. The third and final film in Brynych’s German cycle and certainly the most over the top, Femmine carniovre has the distinction of being the only film from Brynych’s German cycle to have a legitimate DVD release having gotten an official Italian release. The Fifth Horseman is Fear was released on DVD from Facets while Transport From Paradise (1962), another one of Brynych’s WWII based Czech films was released on DVD by Second Run in the UK. Both O Happy Day and Angels With Burnt Wings continue to be MIA on DVD and its really a shame because if more attention were paid to these films its more than likely they’d quickly gain a fan base amongst lovers of Euro cult/trash fare. Fans of unclassifiable, offbeat 70’s cinema need to look no further than Brynych and O Happy Day.

The Washing Machine (1993)

AKA Vortice mortale (Mortal Vortex)

Its interesting to think that during the heyday of the giallo in the 70’s when filmmakers like Dario Argento, Lucio Fulci, Sergio Martino and Umberto Lenzi amongst many others were defining the genre with films like The Bird With the Crystal Plumage (1970), Don’t Torture a Duckling (1972), The Strange Vice of Mrs. Wardh (1971) and Spasmo (1974) just to name a few, that Ruggero Deodato was surprisingly missing from the giallo game. Deodato’s first 70’s thriller Waves of Lust (1975) owed more to a film like Polanki’s Knife in the Water (1962) than any of the films that inspired the giallos of the day and he would follow that film with Live Like a Cop, Die Like a Man (1976), an essential title in the poliziotteschi subgenre, and of course Deodato would soon make his entry in the cannibal genre with Jungle Holocaust (1977). It wasn’t until the late 80’s when Deodato chose to helm his first giallo and the resulting film, Phantom of Death (1987), was certainly one of the more unique the genre had to offer with a strange plot combing murder with the disease progeria of all things. Deodato would return to the giallo in the early 90’s with The Washing Machine, one of his best films and one sets itself apart from other films in the genre with its bizarre eroticism, demented sense of humor and overall oddness.

Inspector Alexander Stacev is called to the home shared by sisters Ludmilla, Vida and Maria after Ludmilla claims to have discovered the body of Vida’s pimp boyfriend Yuri chopped up in the washing machine in the middle of the night. When Alexander arrives on the scene however there is no body to be found nor any evidence that a crime has even been committed. Dismissing Ludmilla’s story as a drunken hallucination, Alexander concludes that, without a body, there is no case. The sisters however see it differently and begin to follow Alexander everywhere pestering him to look into Yuri’s disappearance, eventually seducing him one by one making things quite complicated as the more he investigates the more the sisters seductive mind games suck him deeper into their strange world.

While The Washing Machine is technically an erotic mystery/thriller, in truth the film doesn’t exactly play out like a typical mystery story, at least until the third act. Its not that Deodato totally eschews the mystery of Yuri’s disappearance or the question of whether or not he disappeared at all, but that particular plot element quickly takes a backseat to the wild goose chase Alexander is led on by the three loony sisters, described by Alexander at one point during the film as “deranged”. Its an appropriate description as the situations Alexander finds himself in with each of the sisters are quite loopy, making the film come across as some sort of off-kilter psychosexual comedy. It very quickly crosses over into absurd territory featuring a scene involving an attempt at seduction via a salad bowl thrown into Alexander’s crotch and a fairly uncomfortable looking sex scene taking place against a staircase railing which Alexander is handcuffed too. There’s also the zaniness that arises as a result of each of the sisters occupations, culminating in a hilariously bizarre scene featuring Alexander and one of the sisters going at each other in a museum surrounded by blind people. Such things might make the film seem impossible to take seriously as a mystery/thriller but the matter of fact way in which it’s all presented only adds to the films strangeness and give it its own identity along with Deodato’s slick direction, the cold, blue hue that saturates nearly every frame and Claudio Simonetti’s equally icy score.

Despite the fact that again, the film is one of Deodato’s best, Deodato himself doesn’t feel that way and has gone on record expressing his disappointment with the film, specifically singling out the cast saying in the book Cannibal Holocaust: The Savage Cinema of Ruggero Deodato “I wasn't very happy with The Washing Machine because I was never convinced that the casting was correct, and the film was made too quickly… I can only say that I am not at all pleased with the final result because it's a very intimate movie and should have had well-known actors, which it does not. So, after the first few minutes it collapses.” With all due respect to Deodato, this is clearly a case of an artist being his harshest critic as the cast is actually one of the best things about the film! The three sisters especially were all perfectly cast with Barbara Ricci really standing out as the drunken Ludmilla and Dylan McDermott look-alike Philippe Caroit giving an appropriately bewildered performance as Alexander. The Washing Machine was also Deodato’s last theatrical feature until his 2016 return Ballad in Blood so here’s hoping that in time his opinion of the film changes. There’s really nothing else like The Washing Machine either in Deodato’s filmography or the realm of the erotic thriller making it an eccentric, sleazy and at times ridiculous highlight for Deodato and giallo fans.

Dial: Help (1988)

AKA Minaccia d'amore (Menace of Love)

Having a film that goes down in history as a result of becoming infamous the instant its released can be a blessing and a curse for some directors. On one hand, its nice to have a film that is sure to never be forgotten however on the other it can lead many to paint with a broad brush and expect the exact same types of films. While most hardcore Italian genre film fanatics are familiar with the entirety of Ruggero Deodato’s filmography, there are some who expect all his films to be in the vein of Cannibal Holocaust (1980) and to a lesser extent The House on the Edge of the Park (1980). Not only is that unfair to the rest of Deodato’s output but those who do so are only doing a disservice to themselves as Deodato’s body of work is incredibly versatile. Following The House on the Edge of the Park, Deodato put his stamp on a number of genres and subgenres like Body Count (1986), Deodato’s take on the summer camp slasher, the off-center giallo Phantom of Death (1987) and the erotic giallo The Washing Machine (1993). Then there’s a film like Dial: Help. Certainly one of the most bizarre Italian horror films from the 80’s, Dial: Help is also a wholly original film that is all too often put down by those who sadly can’t see past its unusualness.

While trying to call her agent, Jenny (Charlotte Lewis), an English model living in Rome accidentally dials a wrong number and soon after begins receiving phone calls with nothing on the other line but strange noises and unfamiliar voices calling out her name. Even after getting a new phone the calls continue and soon Jenny’s friends begin getting murdered and Jenny finds herself in psychical danger. Jenny discovers that she is being pursued by phantoms whom have taken possession of the telephone lines, and with the help of her new neighbor Riccardo sets out to uncover the reasoning behind what is happening to her in order to save herself.

Along with its outlandish storyline, Dial: Help is also unique when compared to the rest of Deodato’s body of work on account of it being one of Deodato’s most fantasy and supernaturally based films. At first glance a film with this type of story is probably a bit difficult to take completely seriously, however Deodato does indeed handle the majority of the film with a straight face which actually works in the films favor making it all the more beguiling. As loopy as it is, the source of the haunted phone lines and Jenny’s ensuing investigation is rather intriguing and the film moves at a brisk pace helped immensely by the presence of Charlotte Lewis who, like Deodato, seems fully committed to the material no matter how odd it gets (doing a striptease for a phone while in a trance for example) and the relationship that develops between Jenny and Riccardo throughout the film is quite sweet. Visually the film is incredibly slick with Deodato’s precise camera movements and the production design, making the film an interesting time capsule with the interior of Jenny’s apartment being a snap-shot of late 80’s chic and there are some pretty interesting looking telephones on display as well. The films premise also gives way to some very innovative set pieces, all involving telephones of course, the highlights being a possessed pay phone spitting coins out at high speed, Lewis being strung upside down by a phone cord and in a fairly fetishistic scene, bound by magnetic tape.  

The film also features a score by legendary Italian genre film composer Claudio Simonetti. It was Simonetti’s second time working with Deodato having previously done the scores for Cut and Run (1985) and Body Count. Simonetti would also provide the music for The Washing Machine. Per usual with Simonetti the music is excellent, much like the look of the film the sound is also very much “of its time”, very 80’s electronic and synth based yet entirely appropriate considering the films chic aesthetic. At one point during the possessed pay phone scene the music even resembles electronic punk rock. Its worth noting that that Charlotte Lewis kept a fairly high profile around this time having appeared in the Eddie Murphy comedy The Golden Child (1986) two years before taking the lead in Dial: Help so this was a pretty interesting role to take at this point in her career. Her first role was in Roman Polanski’s swashbuckling epic Pirates (1986). These days, Dial: Help doesn’t seem to get much mention save for the occasional (mostly negative) review here and there, however those fed up with the constant stream of unoriginal hackwork’s currently plaguing horror should find Dial: Help to be a fun and refreshing watch. It might not contain the savage nihilism that defined some of Deodato’s other films, but for an original film ripe with off the wall ideas, look no further.

Black Demons (1991)

AKA Dèmoni 3 (Demons 3)

The world of European genre and cult film can be a bit confusing at times to someone who’s just getting into these types of films in that many films have been released under multiple (oftentimes absurd) titles and in some cases renamed to be marketed as sequels to films with which there is no connection. The Italians are particularly good at this with probably the most famous example being Lucio Fulci’s Zombie (1979) being released as Zombi 2 selling it as sequel to Dawn of the Dead (1978). Umberto Lenzi has suffered at the hands of the re-title several times which has led to some confusion. His first collaboration with Carroll Baker, Orgasmo (1969), was later released as Paranoia while his next film with Baker, A Quiet Place to Kill (1970) was originally titled Paranoia, not to be confused with Oasis of Fear (1971) which is also known as An Ideal Place to Kill along with Dirty Pictures! Lenzi’s 1991 voodoo/zombie film Black Demons can also be added to the list of films released as sequels as it was marketed as the third film in the Demons series. Black Demons might not have anything to do with Lamberto Bava’s first two Demons films, but it is however a wholly original take on zombies and an excellent Italian horror film from a time where most had all but declared the Italian horror industry dead.

While vacationing in Brazil with his sister Jessica and her boyfriend Kevin, Dick, an American tourist, attends a voodoo ceremony where he becomes overtaken by a powerful evil macumba spirit. The following day, their jeep breaks down in the middle of nowhere where two locals happen upon them and invite them to stay at the property they’re renting nearby. That night while wandering the property in a trance, Dick stumbles upon an old graveyard. Compelled by the spirit that's taken possession of him, Dick plays the tape recording of the chants he recorded at the ceremony, resurrecting the bodies of six slaves who were executed years ago as punishment for trying to escape the property and begin exacting their revenge on the current inhabitants.  

Black Demons is the best of both worlds when it comes to zombie films. On one hand there’s the standard “back from the dead” zombies yet on the other there’s the element of voodoo which is of course where the origin of zombie mythos is rooted as seen in films like I Walked With a Zombie (1943) and The Serpent and the Rainbow (1988). The addition of a possession angle is a bonus in an already ripe subgenre smorgasbord. The possession aspect of the film is interesting in that for the most part Lenzi keeps it on the sidelines, having it come in at just the right moments while at the same time never letting the audience forget the spell that Dick is under. It works well when coupled with the voodoo while still making sense within the context of a zombie film. Naturally Lenzi keeps certain things regarding the possession a bit ambiguous particularly as it relates to the zombies but the lack of explanation was wise as irrationality always works best when dealing with the supernatural. The film benefited greatly from being shot on location in Brazil and from a strictly visual standpoint the film is one of Lenzi’s best with the setting and surrounding areas being perfect for such a story and as with all things voodoo related there is a strange ambiance to the area. The zombies themselves look fantastic and are quite striking when filmed in the right light and are responsible for some fairly memorable death sequences.  

Lenzi was clearly unhappy with the change of titles saying “This is really awful. Its absurd. I have never seen Bava’s films and in any case his are set in a different cinema milieu. This film of mine was entitled Dèmoni 3 by a producer who was trying to exploit the title. Clearly my film has nothing in common with Lamberto Bava’s films…” Lenzi was also disappointed in the way the final film turned out as the shoot was anything but smooth. According to Lezni neither of the actors got along and the actress who plays Jessica was a last minute replacement whom Lenzi didn’t get along with at all (he also claims she was unattractive and too short for the role) and later got seriously ill after drinking unpasteurized milk and was hospitalized which disrupted the production. Hilariously, one of her doctors suspected that she could have AIDS of all things. The acting is one of the things the film gets criticized the most for so perhaps all the tension between the cast affected the film. While they might not be the most experienced of thespians they’re hardly the worst. So while it might not have turned out like Lenzi had happed, Black Demons is nonetheless a highly enjoyable 90’s Italian horror film and considering the overvaluation of bland zombie fare in recent times, should be considered a breath of fresh air.

Moebius (2013)

Never underestimate Kim Ki-duk’s ability to get himself into trouble. Along with being one of the most consistently interesting filmmakers working today, one of the things that makes Kim such a fascinating character as well as a true maverick is the polarizing reactions to his films worldwide with many of his films getting excellent reactions at various festivals, some even winning major prizes while at the same time his films and the man himself have been equally vilified. The release of The Isle (2000) was delayed in England on account of animal violence and there were many reports of audience members either fainting or vomiting during screenings. The films instances of sexual violence also led critics to deride the film and Kim. Bad Guy (2001) angered many and even led some to label Kim as misogynist and morally reprehensible and Kim was also criticized heavily for his portrayal of teenage prostitution in Samaritan Girl (2004). A hefty amount of the negativity thrown towards Kim’s films has come from his home country of South Korea with Kim being very vocal about Korean society’s attitudes towards many of the ideas explored in his films so its no surprise that 2013’s Moebius irritated the Korean censors more than ever and turned out to be Kim’s most notorious film yet as well as one of his best and one of the most audacious films of the modern era.

In an attempt to get revenge on her adulterous husband, a scorned wife and mother attempts to castrate the husband although he manages to stop her, causing her to turn her attention to the son, successfully castrating him in his sleep before disappearing. Overcome with guilt, the father goes through with a strange act of penance while the son begins an odd relationship with his fathers former mistress before the mother suddenly returns causing things to go from bad to worse.

Not even the most thorough and detailed description of every frame of Moebius (Moebiuseu, 뫼비우스) could do the film justice. This is Kim at his most fierce and full-on since the days of The Isle, Real Fiction (2000) and Bad Guy. Moebius is a brash, perverse and morbidly humorous look into the home life of the most dysfunctional cinematic family unit this side of William Fridkin’s Killer Joe (2012). As minimal as the film is in execution, thematically there is quite a bit going on. While the film may center around the nameless family, Kim also throws in elements involving a local gang the son gets involved with which leads to the relationship with the former mistress and the castration angle gives way to a side plot featuring several characters finding ways to achieve orgasm though pain. Even with all the castration, rape and incest on display, the film could ultimately be seen as a black comedy as there is a surreal absurdity to it all, from the slapstick nature of the psychical altercations between the father and the mother to the matter of fact way characters scratch themselves with rocks or have knives plunged into their shoulders for sexual gratification. The film is also one of Kim’s most experimental in that not one word of dialogue is spoken in the entire film and really none is needed. The faces of the actors say it all, particularly that of actress Lee Eun-Woo in a brilliant duel role as both the mother and mistress.

Kim essentially went “gorilla” with Moebius, shooting on very low budget on a tight schedule and operating the film himself. Interestingly, there was dialogue written for the film although Kim eventually found it unnecessary. Kim had utilized silence before to great effect, most notably in The Isle and 3-Iron (2004) so its interesting why he waited so long to do a film that was completely dialogue free. No matter as the experiment worked. Needless to say, Kim didn’t have the easiest time getting domestic distribution for the film in South Korea where the ratings board gave it a “restricted” rating, meaning it could only play in specialty theatres. The problem being that no such theatres exist in South Korea meaning the film was basically banned, resulting in Kim having to make several cuts. Lead actress Lee Eun-Woo has stated how she witnessed first hand how the reaction to Kim’s films in South Korea is world’s apart from how well his films are received internationally, recalling watching Moebius at the Venice International Film Festival where the audience got it and found the humor in the film versus watching the film with a Korean audience that was gasping in horror the entire time. With a film like Moebius, both seem appropriate but love it or hate it, the fact remains that Moebius is yet another example of Kim’s ability to provoke while being completely original.

Time (2006)

While promoting The Isle (2000), Kim Ki-duk was asked by an interviewer if he’d ever seen Takashi Miike’s Audition (1999). Kim’s response was “I saw Audition at Toronto and that movie made me realize that there is someone else out there like me. We are two of a kind.” Much like Miike, Kim has a very peculiar way of dealing with human relationships, particularly romantic ones. The romance in Kim’s films is often between two damaged souls and have either troubling beginnings and endings. For Kim’s characters, emotions that relate to love are like nerve endings. When exposed and irritated the response is extremely painful and reactions can be downright primal. In that sense Kim could also be compared to Andrzej Zulawski, although where Zulawski’s characters shriek and are almost constantly hyperactive, Kim’s are defined by their silence, with their occasional outbursts of extreme behavior doing the talking for them as evidenced in films like The Isle, Bad Guy (2001) and Moebius (2013). Despite the oftentimes dark nature of the romances found in Kim’s films, all of Kim’s films are made with heart which can sometimes make the films all the more divisive. Kim’s 2006 film Time is a quintessential Kim love story and a crown jewel in Kim’s filmography, working as both a twisted tale of jealousy and identity but also doubling as a rather biting statement on superficially in Korean culture.

Ji-woo and Seh-hee have been in a loving relationship for two years. Although he has never been unfaithful, Ji-woo has a wandering eye and Seh-hee is the extremely jealous type. Thinking that after two years Ji-woo is sick of seeing her face, Seh-hee decides to put herself through extensive plastic surgery, making her completely unrecognizable and disappearing from Ji-woo’s life without saying a word. Six months later, Seh-hee re-enters Ji-woo’s life with a different face and a new name, See-hee. The two begin dating (again) and Seh-hee’s plan seems to have worked as the new relationship has the spark of when they first met, however Ji-woo isn’t entirely over the old Seh-hee, causing her intense jealousy to re-appear as she finds herself competing with Ji-woo’s memory of her old self, forcing her to admit that she and See-hee are one and the same forcing Ji-woo to make a desperate decision of his own.

Parallels are often drawn between Time (Shi gan, 시간) and Hitchcock's Vertigo (1958) which are apt in that both films feature protagonists consumed by obsession as a result of chasing ghosts however Kim expands on the idea by having a female character with a ghost of their own which Kim takes even further by having said ghost be themselves, or rather someone else's memory of their previous identity. As is the case with many of Kim's films, there is a great feeling of sadness that hovers around Time. Not just in the sense of Ji-woo's desperation following Seh-hee’s departure or even the crippling jealousy that consumes Seh-hee but rather knowing full well that the relationship that develops between Ji-woo and the “new” See-hee can only lead to more pain for both. One of the things that makes Time such a success is Kim’s ability to present the beginning stages of the fresh romance between Ji-woo and See-hee in such a light fashion with several legitimately sweet scenes such as the new couple spending the day at a park filled with surreal sculptures, just one of many examples of Kim’s meticulously composed imagery seen throughout the film. In Kim’s world however, there is always a lingering darkness and even these tender moments have a slightly morose bend to them. What’s also incredible is Kim’s ability to make the thoroughly disturbed Seh-hee a somewhat sympathetic character during the film’s third act, a testament to the incredible and at times unhinged performance of actress Hyeon-a Seong.

Again, Time could also be read as Kim commenting on an aspect of Korean society he feels problematic, in this case plastic surgery which is massive in South Korea. In fact, South Korea is nicknamed the plastic surgery capitol of the world and according to a 2012 CNN article, the business is only going to keep growing with tourists traveling to Korea specifically for plastic surgery. There are even hotels which partner with clinics giving travelers special package deals. Kim’s particular brand of social commentary hasn’t exactly done him any favors in his home country, with Kim releasing a particularly hilarious statement addressing his critics, “... I apologize for making the public watch my films under the pretext of the difficult situation of independent cinema, and I apologize for exaggerating hideous and dark aspects of Korean society and insulting excellent Korean filmmakers with my works that ape arthouse cinema but are, in fact, but self-tortured pieces of masturbations, or maybe they're just garbage. Now I realize I am seriously mentally-challenged and inadequate for life in Korea.” What’s certainly not inadequate are Kim’s films with Time being one of his very best not to mention having one of the most original storylines while at the same time being visually and emotionally stunning . Time is a film with something to say and says it in a way that only Kim could. A modern masterpiece.