Park Chan-wook thundered onto the international movie scene
in 2003 with his breakout, Grand Prix-winning Oldboy. Championed by
Tarantino and embraced worldwide by fans of extreme Asian cinema, it became an
instant classic, and notorious for its scenes of live-squid-eating and
father-daughter incest.
Whilst his first
English-language feature, Stoker, plays with similarly incestuous
material, it falls far short of the transgressive, blackly comic and genuinely
disturbing achievements of his previous work.
It's the story of
India - played by the waifish Mia Wasikowska - troubled daughter of the wealthy
Stoker clan. Living in a secluded farmhouse with her widowed mother (Nicole
Kidman), she becomes ever more introverted after the mysterious death of her
beloved father, until his brother, Uncle Charlie (Matthew Goode), enters their
lives. Mia, who was unaware of her uncle's existence until his sudden arrival
on the scene, reacts to Charlie's presence with a mix of resentment and burgeoning
sexual interest, although she starts to suspect that this surrogate father and
potential lover harbours predictably darker secrets than at first he lets on.
Chan-wook might be
seen as South Korea's answer to David Fincher, in that he's also a purveyor of
challenging and smart dramas for adult audiences with a coolly stylish visual
sensibility. And like Fincher, often the quality of the screenplays with which
he works determines whether the finished article is either a chocolate cake -
dark, rich, and delicious - or a chocolate mousse: frothy and insubstantial.
Stoker is a
chocolate mousse of a movie if ever there was one, and the fault largely lies
with Prison Break actor-turned-screenwriter Wentworth Miller, working
under the pseudonym of Ted Foulke. Without giving anything away, the ostensible
mysteries on which the plot hinges (who is Uncle Charlie? whatever happened to
daddy Stoker?) will prove barely mysterious to all but the most uninitiated of
filmgoers. When the 'revelations' do come, they'd struggle to raise an eyebrow
let alone a heartbeat.
This needn't have
been such a problem, however. Miller was clearly influenced by Hitchcock's
underrated Shadow of a Doubt, another Gothic tale of the appearance in
small-town suburbia of a malevolent uncle, likewise named Charlie, and the
erotic spell he casts over his adolescent niece. In both films, there is little attempt to conceal the uncles' shady pasts, with the filmmakers choosing instead to dwell upon the turbulence caused by their presence in contained and repressed communities.
But whereas Hitchcock reliably
colours the premise with satirical flourishes and simmering sexual
undercurrents, watching Stoker is like being bludgeoned about the head
with a moth-eaten copy of Freud's complete works. For every moment of palpable
sexual tension, such as a stand-out sequence of seduction during a piano duet
ending in near-orgasm, there's another that crudely smothers the atmosphere in
obviousness, reaching its nadir when Wasikowska masturbates in the shower
whilst recalling a murder to which she was witness. In the end, it leaves you
wondering whether Hollywood is getting more patronising, or if audiences are
becoming less perceptive and in need of ever-larger narrative signposts to
follow what's happening.
In truth, Stoker
isn't half as clever or penetrating as it thinks it is. It's weighed down by
stilted, corny dialogue, and a tone that takes itself far too seriously even as
it veers ever further into camp. Imagine The Addams Family with all
of the jokes excised and you're pretty much there.
Luckily, it's
enlivened to an extent by the actors' knowingly-arch performances, especially
Matthew Goode's raffish, poised turn as Uncle Charlie, clearly relishing the
opportunity to play the whole thing as sinisterly as humanly possible. And
Chan-wook's inventive framings have survived the transportation intact,
ornamenting every scene with baroque touches and a sensual use of bold colours
to signify the characters' churning desires.
With its mix of sex
amid implausibly attractive people, and gruesome yet artfully-composed death,
Stoker perhaps works best as a date movie. Beautiful but empty,
sporadically fun but finally unsatisfying, and despite its pretensions of
depth, it's unlikely to endure for long as very much else.

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