Parasite
“I’m not making a documentary or propaganda here. It’s not about telling you how to change the world or how you should act because something is bad, but rather showing you the terrible, explosive weight of reality. That’s what I believe is the beauty of cinema.” — Bong Joon-ho
WARNING: This article will contain spoilers for Parasite. If you have not seen the film, please do not read on for the best experience possible. If possible, I highly recommend going into Parasite cold, with no reference to the trailer, discussion, plot summary, or any other promotional/spoiler materials.
The summer movie of 2019. It’s everything you could ever want– it’s witty, tragic, clever, shocking, bold, insightful. All of these elements are so masterfully combined into one; the cast and crew are truly in command of their craft. Everything– from the stellar performances, to the brilliance of the stairs motif, to Hong Gyeong-pyo's cinematography– is absolutely stunning, and if you haven’t experienced it already… firstly, a final warning to read nothing beyond this point, and secondly, please, please make the time.
I had previously tried to do some initial research on Parasite, looking into the cast, director, and genre; however, I found that different sources selected different genres to classify the film. Some called it a thriller, others called it a drama. Only after seeing the film can one understand why– Parasite’s plot twists and sudden shifts of tone and pace have made it near impossible for even critics to slot it into an existing category, and this expertly blended experience is precisely what makes Parasite so special. The title prefaces Parasite’s exploration into the ever-intertwining connection between upper and lower classes, not only in the sense that the Kims edge their way into serving the Park family, but also in that the host is blissfully oblivious to how the parasite has infiltrated its system– perhaps this relationship has always existed. I suppose it’s obvious enough that having a third family hidden under the house illustrates a physical hierarchy between the rich and poor, symbolically mirroring their socioeconomic relationship. Even when Geun-sae (the housekeeper’s mad, entrapped husband) escapes, Ki-taek becomes the new resident of the bunker. The Park family also moves out, eventually replaced by a German household. Particularities changed, and yet the basics remain unchanged; wealthy people would always live upstairs, and the poorer would forever be positioned underneath them.
The cherry on top, for me, was the cruel ending. A crushing finale, but tragically realistic for those in less fortunate socioeconomic positions all around the world. Rather than ending with a shot of Ki-taek walking into the sunlight, as his son narrates over his dream to free his father– and allowing the audience some semblance of ambiguous hope– Bong returns to the familiar half-basement the Kim family started in. He calls it a ‘확인사살’; a ‘surefire kill’, or the last bullet one fires to make sure the victim is well and truly dead. A line from the Vulture article “Parasite Ending Explained by Bong Joon-ho” summarizes it well: “hope is the emotional parasite in the film: the thing that keeps us going but sucks our marrow dry.”
Still, the cultural magnitude of Parasite goes far beyond its social commentary. I took little interest in initial ads for Crazy Rich Asians. It wasn’t until I watched the film that I could grasp the significance of seeing an all-Asian cast onscreen– the first since The Joy Luck Club (1993). The cast wasn’t just a token for diversity; effective representation requires genuinely meaningful characters, with real aspirations and dreams. It was then that I realized the extent to which the scale of inclusivity in Crazy Rich Asians was a welcome and long overdue change. Parasite continues to push the envelope for this visibility, and can also now add both the Palme d’Or and the Academy Award for Best Picture to its extensive list of achievements, a feat no film has accomplished since 1955.
Countless passionate artists have become jaded over film and the industry in recent years, but seeing Parasite, Bong Joon-ho, and all those who tirelessly worked on it thrive so deservedly makes me a little more hopeful for what’s to come in cinema. Rather than assigning significance to the industry itself, we should divert our attention toward the unseen individual filmmakers, storytellers, and all those who dedicate their lives to their craft, especially when they go on to tell stories that speak true of issues like class conflict and economic disparity, providing a mirror to show us exactly where we stand while so many suffer around us. The entertainment industry is in such dire need of change, and Parasite is one of the many first steps towards it. Even then, this film will forever be above any superfluous awards show or biased voting body, and what’s better is I’m sure they all know that, too.