The great thing about Thirst, Chanwook Park's latest film, is that it's the anti-Twilight. Some of you may take that as a minus, but in reality it's a big plus. Park takes the method of vampirism seriously, and as well the torrid love story between Sang-hyeon and Tae-Joo. We see the conflicts of both of the characters- Sang-hyeon being a priest who undergoes a medical experiment that, unbeknownst to him, turns him into a sickly but true-blue vampire, and Tae-Joo with her mother and "idiot" brother, the latter is killed by Sang- as in a very strong melodrama. There's nothing terribly weepy or insipid with the story and characters at any point, and the implications put forth from religion early on (Sang, for example, is seen as a healer of sorts since he rose from the dead thanks to his vampirism, even as he just can't be that and knows it) on top of those about good vs evil, push it up into another plane cinematically.

That Thirst also rises up to the awesome standard of artistry that Park has displayed with Oldboy, Lady Vengeance and the underrated I'm a Cyborg but That's OK, should be taken as a given. Thirst is a film with a juicy narrative and bizarre suburban characters, and is shot and edited with an eye for a mood that is part satiric, part romantic/erotic, part dramatic and lastly fantastical. And it doesn't always treat vampirsim as something of a simple horror movie set-up (though as a horror movie Park has more than his share of scary scenes). It's more akin to the movie Near Dark which never mentioned the word vampire but let you know it was, and treated it with sincerity and a kind of lucid track of attention, and that the disease itself and its effect on a person's existence is perhaps scarier than the killings or bloodshed. Once you see one vampire jump up really high or heal its wounds, you've seen em' all.

Thirst also has a wicked sense of humor, much like Oldboy, only here with a bite (pun intended) meant to emphasize bizarre physical states of being. An example of this can be found with the Priest's predilection of sucking off of blood from people in comas by taking their blood tube and suckling on it on the floor. Or the manner in which Tae-Joo holds on to one scrap of humanity by keeping her mother alive, even as she's had something like a stroke and can only blink her eyes and tap one finger as a means of reacting to the blood-suckers who've brought pain and horror to her home. But these moments are like icing on the cake to make it a complete experience. What makes Thirst last in the mind is how elements come together, of drama and existential pains, of a Bunuelian-surreal sense of Catholicism (I especially loved the dynamic between Sang-hyeon and the other priest who gives his arm up for blood-sucking but really wants to be a vampire too), and of the erotic: the scenes where the priest finally gives in to Tae-Joo are incredible in their pace and length of shots and how real it gets. Not in a pornographic manner, but in the sense of these characters' release and escape, which doesn't last long over the scope of the story.

If it's not as great as Oldboy, it's not something to carp about. Not all films Chanwook Park directs will reach the stature of his masterpiece (and, at the least, he'll always be known as the man who directed that movie). But Thrist is an excellent addition to his oeuvre, and to the serious streak of vampire movies in general. The film-making is crisp and exciting and even dangerous (and what a white room of 'daylight' the characters live in!), the humor is dark and hilarious, the acting is intense and moody- especially from subtle strokes from Song Kang-ho and the quirky evil and surprising vulnerability from Kim OK-vin, and the ending, when it does finally get there, is one of those truly superb vampire-movie endings you'll be talking about for years, in a good way. In a battle between Thirst and Twilight, Thirst takes the knock-out in the first round. Between Let the Right One In or Near Dark, it's tougher to call. 9.5/10

Sentiment: positive