PIETÀ

Torture, dismemberment, cannibalism, rape, incest – and that’s just the first half-hour! Controversial South Korean film director Kim-ki Duk is back, following his introspective documentary Arirang. Inspired by the near-fatal on-set accident of one of his Dream actors, it showed a man wracked with guilt and self-doubt, unsure if he should continue making films. Seeing as, in Pietà, he skilfully transforms a Saw-like opening into a hypnotic, moving and beautifully bleak film, we should be damn grateful that he is.
Juxtaposing religious iconography with the poverty-stricken industrial backstreets of Seoul, Duk twists a traditional mother-son story into a lurid and often gruesome tale of economic difficulty and personal redemption. Lee Jeong-jin is superb as a stoic, sociopathic loan shark, who forces indebted workers to maim themselves in “industrial accidents” to claim their insurance money. There’s a certain childish posturing to the extremity of his evil; animal entrails ooze across the floor of his apartment, while knives puncture pictures of women. Yet, somewhat squeamishly, he doesn’t himself inflict injuries on others. When a woman (Jo Min-su) arrives claiming to be his long-lost mother, his violent emotions turn Oedipal: he abuses her sexually and psychologically in order to test her devotion.
Despite the shock-value brutality of the first half, there’s a striking, desolate beauty to the cinematography. There’s also a darkly witty tenderness to the evolving central relationship, which (eventually) brings out both characters’ need for love and loyalty.  As is often the case with Korean drama, there’s a high quotient of histrionics, grim revenge fantasy fulfilment and an uncompromisingly grim view of humanity. The wonderful performances and intriguing psychology of the piece make for compelling viewing – if you can hack it.