The Big Picture
- The Wailing is a Korean horror film that stands out for its exploration of beliefs and deep-seated spiritualism, offering something different from most American horror films.
- Director Na Hong-jin is a leading figure in Korean cinema, and The Wailing showcases the well-oiled Korean film industry's top-of-the-line production and hauntingly stunning visuals.
- The horror in The Wailing is characterized by a sense of helplessness, as institutions such as religion, folklore, science, and the police fail to save the victims, resulting in a chain of violence and a feeling of powerlessness for the viewer.
If you comb through online discussions of horror films to watch, The Wailing is a title that regularly pops up. The 2016 film was a bona fide blockbuster in its home market of Korea, but in America, it wasn't the box-office success it deserved to be. However, The Wailing still obtained glowing reviews from US critics and the film's release on Netflix helped to secure it as a horror classic beloved by all audiences. It gets recommended so much not because it offers fantastic sequences of monsters, zombies, or whatsoever, but because it offers something different from most American horror — an exploration of beliefs and deep-seated spiritualism that disturb the viewer psychologically.
The Wailing
NR- Release Date
- May 12, 2016
- Director
- Na Hong-jin
- Cast
- Kwak Do-won , Hwang Jung-min , Jun Kunimura
- Runtime
- 156
What is 'The Wailing' About?
Released in 2016, The Wailing begins with a police investigation into a series of mysterious deaths. An illness is taking over a rural Korean town and causing the infected to murder their entire families. The townsfolk point Detective Jong-goo (Kwak Do-won) toward a Japanese man as the prime suspect. While Jong-goo struggles to solve the case, his own daughter Hyo-jin (Kim Hwan-hee)gets infected and exhibits signs of possession. At wits' end, Jong-goo's wife (Jang So-yeon) and mother-in-law (Her Jin) hire a shaman to exorcise Hyo-jin, and an arduous battle of religion begins over the body of the girl.
Director Na Hong-jin is one of the leading figures of Korean cinema, a wunderkid who swept domestic awards for his directorial debut The Chaser and didn't stop there. All of his films, including The Wailing, have played at different sections of the Cannes Film Festival. The Wailing unites an ensemble of character actors and stars from various films such as Bong Joon-ho's Mother and even Quentin Tarantino's Kill Bill Vol. 1 and 2. This is a top-of-the-line production from the well-oiled Korean film industry that looks lived-in and hauntingly stunning.
What Makes 'The Wailing' So Scary?
However, it's not the spectacle that wows the audience. The first hour of The Wailing is a police procedural, and it's not a particularly successful one. It's not really interested in collecting evidence and tidying up leads and the many victims dropping like flies leave us more questions than answers. Jong-goo is a bumbling, incompetent mess, so he really isn't much help. But mystery is precisely what director Na Hong-jin is instead interested in. Gossip and rumors start to spread through the village like wildfire, and the confusion created by Na lets the viewer into that environment. The multiple dream sequences that strike unexpectedly in Jong-goo's investigation only ferment this atmosphere of uncertainty and paranoia. Since the loose structure doesn't follow the typical investigative procedural, the viewer never knows when another attack will happen next.
'The Wailing's Alternate Ending Takes All the Mystery Out of This Horror Movie
If you felt like the ending to the 2016 horror film was too ambiguous, it might be time to check out this alternate ending.But it's not until The Wailing's second hour and beyond that Na drops all pretenses of a police investigation and fully engages in his true goal of folk horror. Jong-goo's family and perhaps even himself realize how useless he is; but even then, he is not entirely at fault. The horror they face is just so insurmountable and beyond the parameters of a police officer's capability. In one scene, doctors and nurses watch helplessly as a possessed patient twists himself to death. So the characters turn towards their blind faith, and it's not just Jong-goo's family who hires the shaman; Jong-goo's interpreter — who is also a deacon — prays to God and asks a priest for advice. But these institutions —religions, folklore, science, the police — are all useless and unable to save the victims. They reveal themselves to be inadequate, hypocritical, or even evil. This slow burn of helplessness, abetted by the 156-minute runtime, makes The Wailing so powerfully upsetting.
What happens when these institutions fail us? The characters devolve into a chain of violence, one attack after another. The film suggests it's the easiest and perhaps only answer to physical threats. This segment provides the usual slasher and zombie thrills that appeal to Hollywood audiences — but it's neither thrilling nor satisfying. Instead, it's haunting and devastating. The violence in this film is particularly a masculine one, only practiced by the male characters. When Jong-goo can't get an answer from the Japanese man, he resorts to destroying his home. This resorting to violence at the slightest provocation is all too familiar in our world, especially coming from the police, as we’ve seen far too often. So when this chain of violence unfurls, it's yet another feeling of helplessness overcoming the viewer. It's the horror of the inability to do anything but watch.
The Wailing's Horror Feels So Real
It's not just religions that the townsfolk turn to. At the start of the movie, before the killings have even escalated, xenophobia jumps out of the gate. Without a shred of evidence, the people claim it's the Japanese man behind all the deaths. The point isn't whether they're right or not, but how quickly and easily they judge the Japanese man. All the characters in the film only refer to him as the derogatory term of "the Jap." Of course, there is historical baggage here, as Japan infamously and brutally colonized Korea during the Pacific War. These are not only the sins of the townspeople, but also their forebears; this element of the film shows how historical traumas continue to haunt us. It's heartbreaking to watch the villagers drop all logic and jump to xenophobia and prejudice at a moment's notice. As with the violence, it's haunting to realize how realistic, relatable, and almost understandable such behavior is.
Authenticity is at the heart of The Wailing's horror. All the aforementioned dread and fear are very realistic, but religion takes it to another level. The highlight of the film is a cross-cut sequence of dueling rituals, as the shaman attempts to exorcise Hyo-jin while the Japanese man puts on his own defense. We may not be familiar with the specific song and dance of shamanism, but many of us can relate to some form of spiritualism. Na is never burdened by explaining the logic of what's happening on-screen during the rituals; instead, he's rightly focused on painting a sensory experience of deep-seated spiritualism. The production design, sound design, and choreography of all spiritual elements in this film contain enough detail to convince the viewer of some level of historical accuracy. With a gradual build-up, Na ingeniously repurposes ancient ghostly folklore for the smartphone age; we follow Jong-goo from initial skepticism to an insoluble web of spirits and ghosts.
The Wailing's horror succeeds because it taps into the psychology of the townsfolk, and thus the audience. Instead of cheap devices like jump scares, it plays the long game of spreading dread and paranoia. And when this dread reaches a boiling point, Na reveals what monstrous yet illogical and helpless creatures we easily burst into. He doesn't need the help of CGI monsters and creatures when humans do the job just fine.
The Wailing is available to stream on Netflix in the U.S.
