Thirst Reviews

CAYO:

''Like a leper rotting in flesh let all avoid me. Like a cripple without limbs let me not move freely. Remove my cheeks, that tears may not move down them. Crush my lips and tongue, that I may not sin with them. Pull out my nails, that I may grasp at nothing. Let my shoulders and back be bent, that I may carry nothing. Like a man with a tumour in the head, let me lack judgment. Ravage my body sworn to chastity, leave me with no pride, and have me live in shame. Let no one pray for me, but only the grace of the Lord have mercy on me.''

Of all the lines in the movie, it was this recurring prayer that reeled me in. I think that the agony, irony, and sense of humanity and religion in this prayer speaks of the bigger picture found in the movie.

The movie plays with the irony between religion and its opposite (to sin). A priest gets infected with a vampires’ blood, making it an “instinct” for him to commit things he sees as sins: to kill, to drink blood, to fight for survival, and to always give-in to lust. The battle between morality and natural (or should I say animal) instinct gives the underlying tone for the film. The movie also showcases the difference in how a man and woman handles the same situation, that of being a vampire.

The movie goes beyond typical vampire flicks and presents a refreshing yet troubling take on this genre. It incorporates a lot of taboos and clichés, and cancels out certain beliefs and norms in society. The movie is filled with symbolisms that would make even the critical thinker think more, and leave people at awe.

Simple in execution but big in effect, the movie is a recommended break from the dying approach to typical vampire stories.

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KEI:  A friend advised me to prepare myself before I watch Park Chan-wook’s vampire film. I imagined the film being overly gory—which it is not—that I would spend most of my time watching it with covered eyes.
 

More than a reimagining of what a vampire film could be—given the Twilight series that polluted this subgenre—Thirst achieved something that is almost unnoticeable because of Park’s cinematic artistry and graphic depiction of bloodsucking and killing. One is the ingenuity of diverting the audience’s attention from profane details by directing its attention to the powerful visuals and painful love story of the two. Profanity is definitely there but it is as if it is not there. The other one is its representation of the Filipina that is refreshingly different from that in foreign films.
 

At the onset, the audience knows that the priest character, Sang-hyeon (Kang-ho Song) will be the vampire in the story, yet it is an acceptable premise. Is there a film where a monk or a pastor is depicted as a bloodsucking creature? Still a priest but has become a vampire, Sang-hyeon made love with Tae-ju, his childhood friend’s wife. Then he left priesthood for Tae-ju, conspired with her to kill her husband so she can finally escape him, and killed his mentor. He was redeemed at the end of the film, however, when he let his victim live.
 

Although he left priesthood, he lived with his moral values intact; he followed certain rules in getting his daily dose of blood from other people. But when he made Tae-ju a vampire, the one big mistake he did, she went to a killing spree. This shook him, and he decided to end their lives together in that memorable ending scene (though the CGI somehow destroyed the mood).
 

In a 2005 survey compiled by the South Korea government, almost half of its population expressed no religious preference. Buddhism is the dominant religion, but the number of those converting to Roman Catholicism is growing. Could it be that Park is criticizing this relatively new religion in their country?
 

The other point is the representation of a Filipina in a foreign film. Often, Filipinas are represented as either a domestic helper or a sex worker, at times an illegal migrant. But in this film, Evelyn (Mercedes Cabral) was a wife to a Korean (a mail-order bride?), a timid and conservative one. She was always wearing a flowery long dress that covers all of her body. This representation reminds me of the ‘Maria Clara’ image of the Filipina. It was a refreshing sight, though the representation may be backward. However, the Filipina character in the film survives the onslaught of bloodlust of the two vampires, perhaps because she is an outsider.
 

Like Park’s previous films that I watched namely, Old Boy and Sympathy for Lady Vengeance, Thirst satisfies the audience’s craving for a revival of a well-made vampire film. The visuals are shocking, the violence is arresting, the sex is, well, profane. It targets our basic cinematic needs: sight and physical and emotional attachment—and throws in a little something for us to think about.