After seeing rave reviews calling the director as someone who is now among the cinematic greats after making this film plus with the added bonus of it being a class warfare movie, I just had to see "Parasite". I walked out halfway through, unable to stand the torture anymore as things only got worse and worse - and after reading how the film turns out, my instincts were right in leaving. It only got dumber and more absurd.
As with any movie dealing with this subject matter, I feared stereotypes and simple-minded knee-jerk observations. And that's ALL this film had to offer. So that gave it nowhere to go except into absurdity since it had nothing real to say. For the unenlightened, that made it "cutting edge". If someone were to make a true class warfare film, there would be howls of alleged outrage from conservative media. But this empty head-rattler is no threat.
Below is the review I left on IMDB:
A Textbook Film Of Pretentiousness
The opposite of a singer who sings with soul is a singer who sings *as if* they have soul. This movie was done *as if* it were a satire, *as if* it were making a statement, *as if* it has a deeper meaning. Instead, it's hollow at its core, mean-spirited, and pointless. It's a film for those like the idea of making a point but not having to suffer any uncomfortable truths.
The only good effect of this film is that it exposes the vacuity of those who praise it and their self-delusion. It's a barometer of the public's appetite for garbage. See this film only in the context of a sociology experiment and be shocked at how far we've fallen in our gullibility and how desperate we are not to face ourselves.
*****
Most professional critics kissed its ass (only time I've seen more ass kissing was on "Force Awakens" travesty). But this guy gets it right:
- Lamar Xander Jackson,
The Bridge homeless shelter resident
***
Joan Burns was a girl who couldn't wait. She wasn't a nobody, she was a somebody. But she was a somebody going nowhere. In the bubble that is high school, her star shone at the very top, great expectations sprinkled with moon dust in store for her. And she loved it. The adoration, a Pathway to the stars, and most of all, no need to ever question herself. "Others have to do that. Not me."
Then came college. The dream was breaking down. She didn't know what she wanted to do - or could do. Did she really have what it takes to reach the stars? Did she really have the guts to find out if she's the winner she - and everyone - declared (and expected) her to be? Joan certainly didn't want to lower herself from the exalted plane from which she'd determined she deserved. Being special means never having to say you're wrong.
Her sense of entitlement seemed so real. "Just wait and the Pathway will take you to stars." Unfortunately, Joan was a person of faith - in faithlessness. Her family who'd praised her so mightily expected her above all to be morally seen. The weight of it loomed like an ambush down the road. "OK, time to grow up and realize what's really in front of me and stop this wishful thinking. I believe in love, but -" Doesn't really matter what she said after "but". She did what most people do when they decide to grow up: she chose death.
To reach for the stars meant to follow her heart. As much as she wanted to - and actually believed in - spending the rest of her life doing just that, fear knocked her off course from the Pathway, fear she was a fraud, a person undeserving of the dreams she'd seen was God's truth, she determined. From now on she'd close her eyes and hope for the best she's on the right path. "That's what God wants me to do. I shouldn't be believing in myself so much. I'd be condemned for all the ages! Forgive me, God, for putting myself before You!"
God wants you to be free to do what you want
Having been knocked off course, Joan floundered for direction. Not willing to take the chance of being made a fool for doing what she wanted, a vacuum formed putting her on the wrong side of nature. Worst of all, this was happening in secret, for these were concerns a "somebody" should never have. She could trust no one - because she could no longer trust herself. "God doesn't want me trusting myself. I should only trust God. I have perfect faith and know that no one who trusts God is a fool - and above all else I will not be seen as a fool!"
Having given herself her marching orders (in which Joan made herself God), she deceived herself with the wishful thinking that having the trappings of success is the same as success itself. And the most beautiful part of this wishful thinking was that she did it in the name of ending wishful thinking! Later in life - though never confessed - she would call this moment "The Fall". And while nothing was ever the same again, she clung to the vain hope things would be - or could be - or should be. These were tears frozen in her heart.
As with all vacuums, an answer was summoned to fill it. In this it was in the form of Joel. Joel was a nobody, never a star, and nothing possessed him more than the idea of having a somebody for his own. One thing he did have was direction: nothing would come between him and every last dollar he could squeeze out of this Earth. Joan, naturally, was initially repulsed by him but she soon realized her only alternative was to return to the Pathway where she was certain she'd be ruined for life. So she signed a marriage contract to ruin her.
Two years into her vow of self-betrayal, Joan's soul cried out for help. As certain as she was of her fraudulence, an equal part still believed in the Pathway. Secretly, she begged and pleaded not to be the person she saw in the morning mirror being dragged down to the slaves of Babylon. "I feel as though every part of me is dying. This isn't the life I want. Please, please tell me it's not too late to go back to the Pathway. I'll do anything to get my dreams back." The universe replied with Jack.
Jack was the soulmate she'd been looking for her entire life. He too had strayed from the Pathway that would lead them to paradise. And he too struggled to believe he deserved love. Their meeting was as much a nightmare as a dream. Like two children with noses pressed against the glass of a candy store, they wondered if they could ever get inside. Excitement and frustration boiled over when Jack finally had to confess, "I love you." Joan covered her face with her hands, afraid of showing her delight. Would Joan return to the Pathway having been given the chance she swore she needed?
As if by design, that night her husband gave the news he was being transferred out of state, his relentless ambition not to be denied. If Joan didn't commit to Jack now, she'd never see him again. "To leave my marriage for an unknown would be insanity! Everyone would be questioning me and asking why and I'd have no explanation other love. But can I make love work? Is what I got so bad? Who gets to live their dreams? This is more of me thinking I'm special when I'm not. I need to have integrity and not lie to myself and bravely face the fact I'm really a fraud. What does love mean anyway? I only need the appearance of it."
The cover-up continued over the years as her despair and lifestyle grew equally off course. Joan insisted she was fine without her dreams and exquisite luxury proved a suitable substitute. At night, the lies gnawed at her but she only cared if they showed during the day. But nature would have Her revenge. As part of her cover of a loving and moral couple, Joan had produced two children, the oldest a boy with whom she had repeated rows that he deny his dreams as she had done. And while Joan may be able to live with her lies, her adolescent son could not and threw himself in front of a BART train as other Bay area teenagers had.
Immediately her fellow corrupt warriors assured Joan she was not to blame and above all else not to abandon the path she was on and throw away the good things in her life in a fit of disillusionment. After a suitable number of years to save face, she finally divorced and ran away to live near her daughter lest her only remaining child also succumb to despair. Her ruined life devolved into nothing more than a fool's errand of a charade to show a brave face as she rotted out the rest of her existence.
To the staff at the Beth Israel nursing home, she was just another breathing body to be processed and given an account number and impersonal love as outlined in the guidebook. Her money afforded her the best of dying conditions - but for life it was too late. A toxic brew of loneliness, alcohol, and religion slowly fossilized her into sterilization. Joan could hardly speak during the slow motion hell that enveloped her.
Years of tears within had bloated her to twice her normal weight. Born with a smile that would light up a city, she ended with a frown to darken the universe. Drip by drip the life drained out of her, bleeding to death in a world bleeding to death. She'd turned away from her shining star so no one would know she was one. No one in the fluorescent facility knew of her dreams or nightmares, of her miracles found and lost, of the colossal tragedy of her nothingness. No one knew of her implosion into a black hole, trapping any escaping light.
But she finally had the answer to her question: "What does love mean?"
"That is fucking bullshit! I can't believe my eyes! I'm so angry I can't see straight! People HAVE TO BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE FOR THEIR ACTIONS! Where does anyone think this is going to lead? To something GOOD? I don't think so! Anyone thinking that is a MORON and a LUNATIC living in fucking la-la land. I, for one, will not stand for this. CHANGES have to be made. We can't just sit on our asses and let this kind of shit go on. We'll all be sunk if we do with NO FUCKING HOPE! It doesn't matter what the cost is or how high a price we must pay, things need to get fixed and I mean FIXED RIGHT NOW. Waiting is insanity. I don't care if I'm the only person in the world who feels this way, my voice will be heard, consequences be damned!"
Reaction 2:
"Shit happens. Yeah, it's bad but what can anyone do? What's the point of making a big deal out of it? What can anyone do? I can yell and scream my head off and nothing will change. What am I going to do? Go out and create some movement to change everything I don't like? That would be a waste of time. I refuse to let things outside of my control upset me. We have to keep these kinds of situations in perspective. Expecting perfection is a waste of time. Comes a point you have trust people are going to do the right things and carrying on and berating people in the meantime won't help at all. Sometimes you just need to mind your own business."
Reaction 1 is in regard to poor coaching decisions in a Dallas Cowboys loss by "Superfan Earl".
Reaction 2 is his same reaction when informed of children being kidnapped by the U.S. government who will never see their parents again in their lifetime.
"I don't care what you say - or how many times you say it - or with how much conviction you may say it - I still have hope. There's more to life than meets the eye - you don't know what you think you know. No one knows everything. Your words mean nothing to me. I stand with the side of hope - and always will regardless of the actions of others. My faith is unshakable and the way forward is without doubt. These are my words and I stand by them till the end of time. Let the rest do as they wish."
She looked everyone in the room with a defiant eye. The TV camera ate her up. Cheers could be heard in the distant outside. Wars love warriors and she was determined to make a stand. The Conflict had been brewing for decades, setting teeth on edge, boiling rages, reaching a fever pitch - all the earmarks of a dying planet. The dividing time had come and no soul would be left unaccounted. This was the time of Life or Death.
The Numbers Merchants who'd ruled the world since nigh the beginning saw their days were numbered. However hopeless perpetuating their perch may be, they would do anything and everything in their power to delay that day of reckoning; no sacrifice was beyond the pale. Though fearing the growing food riots, starvation was deemed to be used as a tool for population control. Those preoccupied with finding daily food would not be in a position to question the ways of the Merchants or even notice their decisions until too late.
"Because I'm tethered to the truth, I need not listen to the opinions of others, my certainty is my rock. That which conflicts with what I assert must therefore be wrong. I stand as one with the Lord. I shall not deviate nor stray an inch from this righteous path. What's right is right and what's wrong is wrong. I shall be a beacon of light in this dark world. If we all unite as one we can never fall. I cannot emphasize this enough: Dissent is death. Only if we each align ourselves with the truth now can we survive!"
One by one they fell across the land. Like a wind blown fire, hate ignited in their souls, making war on reality. Again, the goal of the Deciders was not to win, but to extend their days of rule by any means possible. Fear and frustration fueled the fires - as intended. Those unable to blame themselves for their self-inflicted fate set up gods to save them - even if their only purpose was to knock them down later. They still served the goal of wasting time. At this stage, the general consensus was liars need to win in order to maintain their way of life.
"Plant cotton, get corn!" Simple, easy, and salable. The Numbers Merchants had lowered the price of cotton seeds as to be practically free. But the big money was in corn in a starving world. Farmers stood to make a fortune in alleged profits as few could actually afford to plant corn with its sky high costs. This was an answer beloved by all: to not reap what you sow - no responsibility required. Anyone who spoke out against it was labeled a traitor and a bringer of doom. The slogan was on shirts, shoes, and body tattoos. The more you celebrated it, the more you were celebrated.
"I have heard those who would bring us down - but their negativity won't bring me down! Jesus said to overcome and by our faith we shall. Our land will be covered in corn! Our future is secured and our problems solved for evermore. These are hard times that demand hard answers. The wishful thinking of love will not save us. We have to take responsibility for our actions - and that we have done!. Let no one stand against us. It's our duty to save the world. Today, I will even amend our glorious slogan to say: Plant cotton, get corn - get saved!"
She sat perched on high in the high court on a wooden throne with "FORBIDDEN JUSTICE" carved around the curved headboard in Gothic letters not to be questioned. On the wall behind, in the same but larger Gothic letters, "NO TRUTH IS CERTAIN" was loudly proclaimed to be true. As I stood awaiting in the lower chamber, the judge stood up in her long black robes designed to hide what is already known, and she began the sentencing mourned as my trial. "I see before me a known unknown, persona non grata. So how can I judge you as anything else when Nature has made Her judgement before me? Do you have business here, does the doomed wish to speak? Perhaps a witty comment might do, you think? Something to entice me to enjoy your company. If so, do you believe you can sustain that indefinitely, for life? How much wit is within you? Are you certain of an inexhaustible supply? Or do you wish to keep that dour look upon your face, of which I have no desire to see and if I did your severed head would serve equally well. Or perhaps you wish to make a wry observation upon these proceedings? Do you think that is what I wish to hear? Would that please me or enrage me, you wonder. Do you dare take the chance? Are you having a crisis of conscience and faith? Is it only by crime you can gain my company? Is deceit your faultless ally? May a stolen moment be the only treasure you can obtain? Is an allegation of an unbearably anguishing separation your plea, so that the court may show mercy? Would that be a just outcome for this court: to have you tolerated at best, dreaded at worst? If you should fall into disrepair, is that the court's concern, of your every peregrination through life? Is the court obligated to tabulate the outcome of your decisions in which it had no say? Should the court hold itself responsible to weep over your grave when your death is without notice? "Each soul assumes feelings but some assumptions are true and some are false. How is the court to determine your wishful thinking and flights of fancy from a true heart? Is such a thing even determinable? Is the court your refuge where you hope to ameliorate your wounds incurred from without, to substitute this life for having none? A person on the run seeks shelter and takes shelter wherever it can be found, right or wrong. Should the court be taken advantage of in this way? Does it exist for your pleasure and convenience? Am I to be at your beck and call, denying my own life, due to the discord in your own? Or do you allege that the sum of two parts is different when combined as one? Is this what you guarantee, an unknowable and unforeseeable outcome that has never been faced? Is your imagination to be taken for reality? Are you so certain of your needs that you yet proclaim them while still breathing? What is the court's obligation to your unproven truths? "Or is silence your answer? To say nothing and be nothing is your defense? How can the court not be offended when you make no effort? Or are you simply cycling through the various answers you could give, waiting for the right moment to strike, knowing that giving the wrong answer - or the right answer at the wrong time - is equally offensive as silence? Or do you contend there is no right answer, that no possible words or combination of words ever invented could possibly do? Do you believe you have the intellect to make that determination? Or are you accusing the court of a prejudged bias against any words you say no matter how appropriate or inappropriate they may be? Have you come simply to cast aspersions and expect that the court would delight at the generous gift of your supposed insight? Where is this all to end, these speaking-and-not-speaking deliberations? Till death do us part? What offering can you make to this court, which you have deemed your doorkeeper to salvation, with your quivering lip which gives the court such pause? What is the way forward? If you do not know, how can I, for communication is the vein of life."
....
"OK, then, I'll communicate. I'm fucking DEVASTATED and wholly DISHEARTENED without your friendship. I'm FAKING everything every DAY. I acted without HOPE. It's UNFORGIVABLE. You are the KINDEST most INTELLIGENT person I know. I'm SORRY in every way."
