There’s the idea that a filmmaker makes the same film over and over again. South Korean director Park Chan-wook’s No Other Choice might be evidence of that. The director exploded onto the world stage with his Vengeance Trilogy: Sympathy for Mr Vengeance (2002), Oldboy (2003) and Lady Vengeance (2005). Now, Park Chan-wook returns to the genre, but with a twist. No Other Choice is a film about revenge, but tonally it’s a comedy compared to his earlier trilogy.
The story follows Man-su (Lee Byung-hun), a former paper mill manager, who hits upon a novel idea after his employment is terminated. If he’s the best candidate, then he’s sure to be hired. To solve the problem of his competition, he runs a fake advertisement in order to identify the other candidates, and then, one by one he shrinks the pool by nefarious means.
Park infuses No Other Choice with a playful charm that has helped him to win the audience over before, but here, it feels that it’s a case of diminishing returns. There are undoubtedly things to enjoy about this film, including the sturdy premise upon which to tell a story. There’s something wickedly amusing about an essentially decent family man pushed to breaking point, who decides to do the unthinkable. No Other Choice’s black comedy keeps the audience sympathetically tethered to Man-su, and in turn complicit in his nefarious scheming. Part of the the joy of cinema is that we are able to detach ourselves from our moral compass. Park encourages his audience to do just this, playing on our inherent sympathy with Man-su, but also a familiar feeling when things go against us to want to take control of our lives beyond our normal means of control. At its heart, there’s a certain hypothetical “what if?” question being asked. Out of this Park spins a fun and what should be engaging yarn, but it’s not without its limitations.
The comedy is a double-edged blade wherein it shapes the film as a fun and engaging experience, never takes itself too seriously. There’s a farcical element to Man-su, where competence and incompetence are narrowly separated. This allows Park to have fun with the character and story, humbling him when necessary to be a bit of a clumsy buffoon out of his depth. The problem is that Park steers the film too much into comedy, so desperate to entertain his audience that he forgets about the broader concerns.
No Other Choice comes undone because Park is essentially too much the showman, who is desperate for his audience’s affection and approval. He’d be wise to respect his audience by disregarding them. By toning the comedy down to its bare essentials would have emphasised the film’s darker and grittier nature, which would have made it more engaging long term. It’s often frustrating that comedy is present to ease the tension rather than lean into it. And while being a showman, albeit with humorous set pieces that he and his leading man pull of perfectly, there’s never enough of a focus on its themes and ideas. We’re left to question how powerful its message or attempt at one is. If there is one, then it seems fairly obtuse and when it lands is neither incisive nor particularly thoughtful. This wouldn’t be a problem, but one senses that Park was building to a big crescendo, where everything threads together. The way No Other Choice ultimately culminates is by acknowledging the sentiment in Bong Joon-ho’s Parasite (2019) that, “You know what kind of plan never fails? No plan. No plan at all.”
This 140-minute revenge thriller overstays its welcome, exposing Park’s indulgence. It’s a film that will struggle to entertain beyond a first viewing, and even on a first viewing, it’s difficult to justify the length. I couldn’t help but think, if Hitchcock only needed a 100 mins to tell his 1955 black comedy The Trouble with Harry, why does Park need so much longer?
No Other Choice played as part of the Screen International Critics’ Choice at the 29th Tallinn Black Nights Film Festival, where this piece was originally written. Also showing at REC Tarragona. In cinemas on Friday, January 23rd.
