Parasite Review

Fresh off the heels of last year’s searing South Korean film, Burning, which received acclaim at last year’s Cannes Film Festival, Bong Joon-Ho’s latest film, Parasite, was unanimously awarded this year’s Palme d’or. Like Burning, the film is a meditation on class divisions, examining the ways they both shape and are shaped by our environments. But Parasite sets itself apart by exploring the tensions of inequality in characteristic Bong-fashion, spinning together strands of dark comedy, thriller, and satire to create a signature blend seen only in his other films (The Host, Snowpiercer, Okja). The result is a masterpiece that crystallizes the contemporary zeitgeist of clashing ideologies rooted in not just wealth, but everything from education to ethnicity. True to its title, Parasite begs the question of what it means to live in proximity with others, and whether a peaceful coexistence is all but illusory.

The story is set into motion when Min-Hyuk (Park Seo-Joon) visits the Kim family’s squalid basement apartment to drop off a curious artifact. It’s a scholar’s rock from his father’s collection, and though he explains it is meant to bring material wealth, the mother betrays their disregard for the esteemed Confucian art by quipping, “Food would be better.” But the tide begins to turn when Min-Hyuk asks Ki-Woo (Choi Woo-Shik) to tutor the daughter of the wealthy Park family while he studies abroad. His family’s days of folding pizza boxes for change are over when he aces the interview and eventually swindles the Parks into hiring his sister (Park So-Dam) as an art therapist, his father (Song Kang-Ho) as a chauffeur, and his mother as a housekeeper. The family successfully infiltrates the household without the Parks discovering they’re all related, and a mutually beneficial relationship is established.

But things go awry, and the turns are as myriad as the corners in the Parks’ architect-designed house. The underlying suspense is generated not by whether the Kims will be found out, but by how the thinly stretched ruse will come crashing down. Not only is Min-Hyuk only on temporary leave, but the Kims also pushed out the previous chauffeur and housewife to claim their positions. It would seem natural that the pendulum would swing back, but there is also very little we know about the Parks. The father (Lee Sun-Kyun) is largely absent, working long hours as the head of a technology company, and the mother (Cho Yeo-Jeong) is a bit too willing to hire according to what she calls a “belt of trust.” Most intriguing is the young boy, Da-song (Jung Hyun-Joon), who is not only oddly obsessed with Native Americans, but also the only one to notice the Kims all carry the same scent.

Though Parasite takes place in a country known for its traditional hierarchies, its foreignness expands the scope of its commentary rather than limiting it. Mr. Park’s accolades from abroad are displayed on the walls, and Mrs. Park daintily sprinkles English into some of her phrases, highlighting their status as cosmopolitans. At one point, Mrs. Park even remarks that the tent they bought for camping must be sturdy because it was imported from America, and Mr. Park’s agreement is evident not only in his nod but also in his owning a Mercedes. Bong’s careful insertion of these details bring to attention the relationships that exist not only within, but between nations, and the larger forces that are outside of our control. The family’s squalor is in part due to the father’s failed castella cake venture, which is based on an actual scandal that occurred in South Korea’s adoption of the trendy Taiwanese dessert.

Bong’s meticulous craft prevents the film from falling into tropes that are all too prevalent in other films that pit the rich against the poor. The Kims are an ambitious bunch, with Ki-woo having taken the university exam four times and the mother being a former champion shot-putter. But rather than asking for the viewer’s sympathy for those who work hard only to be knocked down, the film abstains from ascribing moral values to either family, choosing instead to focus on the movement of society’s parts. At one point Mrs. Kim states, “If I was rich, I would be nice too,” as if were an inevitable law of nature. The conflict is not between the families but between the individuals and their circumstances. Bong masterfully plays with the pieces to show us that though the Kims displace former workers for the household, they were displaced by others who took their positions due to financial situations presumably outside of their control. We are all bound by this chain of displacements, and the film is poignant in its portrayal of human efforts to grapple with its consequences.

In an era of class warfare ominously foreshadowed by Hillary Clinton’s coining of the “deplorables,” Parasite is a gripping satire packed with tricks that speaks to the cultural moment in a manner not unlike Jordan Peele’s Get Out (2017). After sold-out screenings at the Telluride and Toronto Film Festivals, Parasite has high expectations to become South Korea’s first international-feature-film nominee at the Oscars. In an uncharacteristic plea, Bong has requested that audiences refrain from spoiling the turns that make the viewing experience akin to “surfing on a rough sea.” The turbulence is necessary to convey the restlessness of today’s jostling classes, and the unexpected coda will leave viewers ruminating on where they fall in a world where the line between symbiosis and parasitism is constantly blurred.