I used logic to stop being scared of horror films.

One night in high school, my friends and I binge-watched several of them.

As I watched demonologists Ed and Lorraine Warren screw up an exorcism, a thought occurred to me:

There’s no reason to be scared. Nothing on screen is real and even if it was, it’s not happening to me. 

That was all it took – just accepting the reality of the experience.

I watched the rest of the film, the two after, and all horror films since comfortably (I’m in it for the story now 💀).

That tactic may not work for everyone, but it raises an observation about cinema. A great film will take us to another world and create an immersive experience.

It uses sight and sound to trick our minds, making us forget where we are and our inherent separation from what’s happening on-screen. But that separation does and always will (at least for now) exist.

Part of the fun of 4th wall breaks is that it acknowledges this division but uses it as entertainment. So it breaks the immersive experience but trades it for comedy or a sense of surrealism (via direct interaction).

But there is another step – a level beyond the typical wink to the audience. You can involve viewers on a far more visceral level by taking into account the physical environment they’re in (a theater).

I’ve only seen it done once.

It required a perfect storm of elements. Namely:

• Real-life issue known to audiences.

• Build up of a recurring idea in the film.

• Utilization of the space people watch a film.

• A real-life issue that stirs intense emotional reactions.

Enter Bong Joon-Ho.

Memories of Murder (2003)

Real-Life Issue

In 2003, Bong Joon-Ho (Oscar-winning director of Parasite) released his second feature film – a murder-mystery called Memories of Murder.

It was a smash hit, gaining acclaim both in Korea and abroad. His first masterpiece.

The story covers the real-life serial killings of women between 1986 to 1991. Bong Joon-Ho has called it the first serial murder case in Korea.

It was also an unsolved case. The killer was finally identified in 2019 but in 2003, the case remained a tragedy embedded in the collective consciousness.

A killer who, as far as the audience was concerned, was still at large.

Bong Joon-Ho has gone on record that he assumed the killer would be watching the film.

Recurring Idea

Detective Park believes he has a keen eye – he can tell who’s a suspect with one look.

Aside from setting up comedic moments and being one more example of the detectives’ questionable procedures, this character trait creates a visual motif and theme that is used throughout the film.

This shot is from the opening scene. A medium close-up of Park staring almost straight into the camera. This Park one-shot is used consistently whenever he is focused on tracking a potential suspect.

The film plays with showing the perspective of the detectives and the viewpoint of the killer. In this small rural town, the killer always knows and sees his victims, but the detectives are staring at an unknown.

(SPOILER ALERT) – We’ll now be discussing the climax and ending. I highly recommend you watch the film and then finish this newsletter. If you don’t care, then proceed.

The script’s structure follows the detectives chase from one suspect to another, 3 in total. As they check each Park maintains his confidence.

But despite his self-proclaimed talent and scrutiny, the killer stays elusive. He never comes face to face with him and as in real life – fails to capture him.

His confidence is destroyed in the climax when he stares at the third suspect in despair. Park stares at him for a few seconds in silence, then…

I know, we still haven’t mentioned the fourth wall break. It’s coming now, and all this setup was necessary for you to know how special this move was by Bong.

Breaking the Fourth Wall

What makes going to the theaters special, compared to watching a movie at home?

• Sitting in a large room in darkness

• Seeing the images on a huge screen

• Watching it together with a bunch of strangers

As Korean audiences were nearing the end of the film, they’ve seen the detectives fall over themselves and fail to catch the killer.

Years pass to the present day (2003), and Park is living a new life as a businessman. During a trip, he visits the place where the film began – the ditch where the first victim was found.

A girl notes that another man was looking at the same place and said he remembered doing something there a long time ago. He came back to take a look. Their following conversation goes:

Park: Did you see his face? (She nods) What did he look like?

Girl: Well… kind of plain.

Park: In what way?

Girl: Just… ordinary.

He stares off to the side and turns to the camera. Now looking directly into it.

You’re looking back at him inside this big, dark movie theater. No one in the film or in the audience knows who the killer is or where he is in the country.

He could be anywhere. In a shack in the countryside. Or inside an apartment unit in downtown Seoul.

Or quietly sitting right next to you.

Watching Detective Park stare into the darkness for him.

But as always and to the bitter end, unable to see his face.

This shot (and the film as a whole) was a dialogue between the director, the audience and an infamous killer who are all in the same room together.

It’s an experience that breaks the separation between the screen and real-life – quietly tapping you on the shoulder to keep your eyes open and alert.

The greatest 4th wall break in cinema.

Cheers,

Joe Soon