The Parasite Moment* virtually ensured that any filmmaker coming out of South Korea would have the eyes of the world glued to whatever they made next, particularly in the context of Cannes, where that singular moment was conceived. In that sense, Park Chan-wook had some unrealistically gargantuan expectations to meet with Decision to Leave—not only as the first member of the Elite SK Directors’ Club (himself, Bong Joon-ho, Kim Jee-woon and Lee Chang-dong) to succeed Parasite’s release, but also as his return from a six-year filmmaking absence following his own masterpiece The Handmaiden. Expectations for Decision to Leave were so high that anything less than an unmitigated tour-de-force would be perceived as a worrying slip. 

Decision to Leave, when stacked up against The Handmaiden, is a dip in quality, certainly, but one distinct quality carried over from Park’s 2016 film: a passionate romance wrapped snuggly in sincere ridiculousness. Park’s enduring gift continues to be his ability to present such playful direction like a teenager picking up a camera and trying every trick for the first time, while also demonstrating a sense of focused purpose for these choices that could only come from a seasoned pro. Most of the elite South Korean filmmakers of today fell into their signature styles relatively early on, and Park is no exception. Luckily for us, his style has always entailed a perfect balance of slick camp with a dash of prestige, which is precisely what Decision to Leave has to offer.

While it would be totally disingenuous to refer to Decision to Leave as “style over substance” in the traditional sense—as in, a film where the story is basically an afterthought meant simply to carry us from one visual flourish to the next—it’s virtually undeniable that Park’s style does indeed take precedence over of the film’s substance. The romance at its centre, passionate as it is, does become somewhat muddled within the crime-mystery pool that it calls home. Park Hae-il and Tang Wei are perfectly attuned to the types of genre-specific roles thrust upon them, but the quickness with which this love is established does feel as though a piece of the jigsaw may have fallen between the couch cushions.

Many would justifiably argue that a director’s goal shouldn’t be to try and outdo their previous effort, but rather to concentrate on making their current film the best version of itself that it could possibly be. Is Decision to Leave as good as The Handmaiden? It’s not even in the same stratosphere, and clearly, I also think there’s a better (shorter) version of Decision to Leave that probably could’ve come to fruition. Whatever the case may be, Park Chan-wook’s continued efforts to refine his vision without losing touch with the less glamorous genre conventions that shaped it are on full display once more. 

*shameless plug for the YouTube channel I recently got back to work on.

2022 Ranked.

Park Ranked.

Cannes 2022.
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