Director Park Chan-wook's "No Choice," Catching Two Birds with One Stone: Artistic Merit and Entertainment

Director Park Chan-wook's filmography has always presented audiences with intellectual challenges and aesthetic shocks. His films have been lauded by critics for their meticulously calculated mise-en-scène, complex narratives, and weighty themes, but at times, this very weightiness seemed to create a distance from mainstream 'entertainment.' However, his new film, <No Choice> (Eojjeol su ga eopda), cheerfully shatters this stereotype. The film successfully combines the sharp directorial style and socio-critical perspective characteristic of Park Chan-wook while consistently making the audience burst into laughter with the charm of a black comedy. Fans who have watched his previous works with a serious demeanor will find themselves having a new experience, laughing out loud and getting lost in the screen.
 

The film's success was made possible by the actors who were free to play on the solid foundation built by Director Park. He exquisitely designed a critical narrative about how the social system drives individuals into a corner, creating an optimal stage for the characters' desperate yet ridiculous struggle for survival. It gives the impression of actors exploding with their individuality and acting skills, as if they were jumping around on a well-designed playground. Trusted actors like Lee Byung-hun, Lee Sung-min, Yeom Hye-ran, and Son Ye-jin deliver tremendous synergy, perfectly immersing themselves in their characters as if competing in an acting contest. It feels less like there are no acting holes and more like any actor with insufficient skills was thoroughly excluded from the casting stage, as every performance shines brilliantly.

Among them, the actor who displays an overwhelmingly dominant presence is Lee Byung-hun, who plays 'Mansu.' One wonders how many actors in the current Korean film industry can match his acting prowess. Lee Byung-hun's greatest strength is his ability to completely erase 'actor Lee Byung-hun' from the screen and face the audience solely as the character. He creates a living, breathing character by embodying 'Mansu'—a craftsman with deep pride and expertise from decades of working in a paper mill—through subtle expressions, tones of voice, and minor gestures. Throughout the movie, the audience doesn't see Lee Byung-hun but feels the raw anxiety and desperation of Mansu, a middle-aged head of a household who falls from grace overnight due to the changing times.

Mansu was recognized for his skills, even receiving awards at the company he dedicated his life to, but he is helplessly laid off in the face of the unstoppable wave of automation. His tragedy begins with his inability to even think about finding another job. For him, who had only ever known the world of paper manufacturing technology, no other world existed. In a society where his expertise is no longer needed, he becomes a complete outsider. The process of reaching the twisted conclusion that he only needs to get rid of a few competitors to reclaim his position in this niche industry is highly illogical, but it convincingly portrays the extreme psychology of an individual whose lifelong pride has crumbled.

What ignited his dangerous thoughts was a single careless joke from his wife, 'Miri' (Son Ye-jin). Her attempt to console her despairing husband with the words, "You could just get rid of all of them," comes across as a 'revelation' to Mansu, who can now only see the world in black and white. From this moment, the film fully enters the orbit of a black comedy. Mansu begins to devise a concrete action plan, something he could never have imagined, to realize his twisted logic of survival. His situation is desperate and tragic, but the process of an ordinary family man arriving at the extreme choice of murder ironically induces laughter and heightens the suspense.

Mansu's plan is both clumsy and meticulous. He places a job advertisement in a trade magazine read only by industry professionals to identify his competitors. Through the applications, he singles out those who are currently unemployed and have more impressive careers than his own, while also targeting the current employees who occupy the few available positions. His past life—owning a decent house, enjoying the simple hobby of bonsai, and leading a happy family life—stands in stark contrast to his current miserable situation. The film coldly shows how easily the life of a diligent individual can collapse in the face of job insecurity, a pressing social issue.

Everything he had worked for, acquired with some strain under the belief that his stable job would last forever, vanished like a mirage with his unemployment. Unable to even afford the interest on his loan, he loses his beloved home, and his family's life is completely upended. Now, Mansu has no options left. He embarks on a path to 'eliminate' his competitors one by one, not just to get his job back, but to reclaim his stolen life. The core plot of the film is this desperate and absurd 'struggle for employment,' and his first target is 'Beom-mo,' played by Lee Sung-min.

Beom-mo, like Mansu, is a character who spends his days idly, drinking away his time after losing his job. His wife, 'Ara' (Yeom Hye-ran), is a childish character who chases her dream of becoming an actress, relying on her wealthy family's support. This couple's portrayal shows another form of social maladjustment. The scene where Mansu, after much effort, attempts to eliminate Beom-mo is the highlight of the film. The desperate struggles and clumsiness of a man committing an extreme act like murder, and the unpredictable situations that unfold in the process, provoke laughter that catches the audience off guard. The actors' seemingly exaggerated yet deeply realistic performances elevate the scene's comedic tension to its peak.

What enriches the flavor of this scene is Director Park's signature masterful music selection. As Beom-mo and Mansu fight for their lives, a cheerful song by Cho Yong-pil ironically plays in the background, creating a bizarre harmony. In every work, Director Park has skillfully placed old Korean pop songs in just the right moments to give scenes a unique emotional texture and rhythm. While this direction evokes nostalgia and empathy for Korean audiences, it also raises the question of how it might be perceived by international viewers who do not understand the context of Korean pop music. The desperate survival game played by the three actors—Lee Byung-hun, Lee Sung-min, and Yeom Hye-ran—as they hide their true intentions and watch each other's every move is nothing short of masterful.

Of course, the film does not simply offer lighthearted laughter from beginning to end. After reaching a comedic peak during the elimination of Beom-mo, the film gradually returns to its original, weighty theme. Once the moments of unbelievable laughter pass, the audience is once again confronted with the harsh reality of Mansu's situation and the fact that he has crossed a line he should never have crossed. As is always the case with Director Park's films, beneath the surface-level entertainment lies a sharp insight into human nature and social structures. The tragedy of an individual who struggles desperately but ultimately cannot escape the giant cogs of the system leaves a bitter aftertaste at the end of the laughter.

The symbolic device that represents the film's theme is the 'molar tooth' that torments Mansu. His nagging toothache, which began after he lost his job, represents his unstable and precarious situation. However, instead of going to a dentist for proper treatment, he chooses the extreme solution of pulling out the painful tooth himself. This is a direct metaphor for his distorted way of thinking—believing that all his problems will be solved if he eliminates the competitors blocking his re-employment. Unlike Director Park's previous films, which often used somewhat esoteric symbols, <No Choice> communicates its theme clearly through such direct and easy-to-understand symbolism, seeking to connect with a wider audience.

However, the final scene, which directly shows a future where human labor is replaced by robots and AI, is somewhat disappointing. Unlike the sophisticated metaphors and black-comedy tone maintained throughout the film, it can feel overly explanatory and didactic. Nevertheless, the decision to avoid a simplistic good-punishes-evil structure and to instead push forward with the reality of a system that transforms its problems into individual tragedies was a bold choice worthy of Director Park. As the rumor goes that the director had been developing this project for over a decade, <No Choice> is undoubtedly a masterpiece that does not miss deep contemplation, insight, and popular entertainment.