Beautiful, brutal class warfare.

There are very few directors out there so singular in their approach that they defy definition. But then, there are few directors (well, none really) out there called Bong Joon-ho.

Hyperbolic though it may sound, the man is an absolute cinematic treasure and holds a truly unique place on the present film landscape. With a vision unrestricted by genre or geography, Bong Joon-ho is a truly global, one-of-a-kind filmmaking talent that, even held up against the Nolans and Tarantinos of this world, stands apart from anyone else. 

With a distinct Korean sensibility but a keen eye for the Hollywood mainstream, you just can’t tie Bong down, as early native efforts like The Host and Mother have given way to the bigger budget and broader scales of Snowpiercer and Okja, the director continues to shift seamlessly between tone, style, and scale like no one else in the game. Mixing comedy, horror, action, fantasy, sci-fi, and drama – often within one film – Bong Joon-ho’s fluid approach to genre has seen him develop into a truly versatile technician that always finds new and exciting ways to get his unique voice across.

In spite of his recent flirtations with Hollywood, Bong Joon-ho obviously holds a huge place in his heart for home, as Parasite sees him return to his roots. Yet, despite this, there’s something undeniably universal about the film, with the director’s time spent abroad clearly leaving an indelible impression on him.

Living in a semi-basement apartment down a grubby Seoul alleyway, the Kim family – father Ki-taek (Song Kang-ho), mother Chung-sook (Chang Hyae-jin), daughter Ki-jeong (Park So-dam), and son Ki-woo (Choi Woo-shik) – live in a perpetual state of poverty, working low-rent jobs and hustling to stay afloat. When a job opportunity opens up for Ki-woo to tutor for the wealthy Park family, a plan is hatched by the Kims to share his new employer’s riches. With the family steadily infiltrating the Park’s home and lives, a peculiar symbiotic relationship forms between the two, but as their newfound comfort becomes threatened by external forces, a violent battle for dominance breaks out, threatening to obliterate the fragile ecosystem that has been crafted.

In a paradoxical move that feels pulled from the director’s own filmmaking playbook, Parasite is simultaneously Bong Joon-ho’s most unconventional and conventional film to date. Dispensing with the fantastical elements and all-out zaniness of his last two films – Snowpiercer and Okja – Joon-ho feels, at first glance, like he’s moved into more subdued territory with Parasite, yet it’s not long before the film evolves into his most complex and curious effort to date.

Just the mere task of placing Parasite in a specific genre box is nigh on impossible, as the film defies all categorisation, forging its own path to create something that, like much of Joon-ho’s work, feels fluid, freewheeling, and completely unrestrained. Is it a comedy? A drama? Thriller? Or horror, even? The truth is, it’s all of that…and so much more.

With biting social commentary, tense drama, and whimsical, pitch black humour, Joon-ho brings together every element of genre-bending trickery in his filmmaking toolbox and blends it all into a pulsating, multi-layered melting pot. Just as happy to tickle you with his trademark wit as he is to repulse you with gruesome violence, Joon-ho throws everything he’s got into the mix, coming up with something so fluid and unique it blows the walls off any limits put upon it.

Coupled with its boundary-defying genre flexibility, Parasite sets itself up to be a thematically dense masterwork that plays with many of the themes present in Bong Joon-ho’s past output, while transporting them all to the next level. In by far the film’s most overt attack, Joon-ho picks up the fraught notion of social divide and class struggle that Snowpiercer confronted and runs with it into the distance.

As the Kim family rapidly infiltrate the Parks’ lives, assisting and leaching off them in one fell swoop, Parasite meticulously layers up its message, pulling no punches in its explicit comment on the complex, fractured class divide it portrays. Wealth and the unsustainable search for it is Joon-ho’s true antagonist here, with neither side of his class rift emerging hero or villain, as the film’s script ebbs and flows in a delicate blurring of morality, honesty, and societal constructs.

Under such circumstances, it’d be all too easy to use the film’s rich family as the narrative punching bag, yet Parasite portrays the Parks as both guilty and moronically innocent all at once, painting them as both victim and perpetrator. It’s a rich and thoroughly satisfying dissection of class in which no one comes up smelling of roses, however, there’s an undeniable empathy towards the Kim family that lands precisely because of the hard work Joon-ho puts in for us to reach it.

Identity and the notion that we are all, to some degree, actors playing out roles in society is a strong thematic current throughout Parasite, as the Kim family make an overt attempt to play out their dreams of wealth and status, before it inevitably comes crashing down. As the film creeps along, what unfolds is a fascinating, scathing comment on the masks we all must wear, rich or poor, to navigate life and strive for our ambitions.

At once poignant and horrific, the film’s writing is flawless, as it juggles such hefty themes with wit and style, all while insistent on keeping its audience entertained. This balance of arthouse chin stroking and easily accessible entertainment is a blend that many films attempt but few achieve, however, Parasite makes it look effortless with Bong Joon-ho and Han Jin-won’s script balancing tone and genre to perfection. 

Although the Parks are a little on the one dimensional, borderline cartoonish, side at times, it’s the Kim family that pack the biggest punch. Utterly engrossing and well-rounded, each member of the ‘parasitic’ lower class family have dimensions and layers to them that lesser writers would miss, with each character’s desire, desperation, and ingenuity coming together to flesh out what could’ve been a collection of paper-thin caricatures.

Bolstering the exceptional writing, Parasite’s cast are, without exception, outstanding. As a cohesive unit, each of the four protagonists within the Kim family display fantastic chemistry, as they bounce and banter off one another like any household would. With each character given equal footing in the script, the entire ensemble feels organic and natural, but with an off-kilter, eccentric edge that makes them such a captivating screen presence.

As a group, each of Song Kang-ho, Choi Woo-shik, Park So-dam, and Chang Hyae-jin pull together for the collective cause, yet it’s as individuals that they truly shine. As the scheming daughter, Park So-dam is a revelation, bringing an enthralling, calculated cool to proceedings; however, the true standout is Bong Joon-ho mainstay Song Kang-ho as the Kim patriarch, who gives a powerful performance full of charm, humour, pride, and unexpected fragility to steal the show. 

Around them, Parasite’s environment acts as an essential character in its own right, with both the Kims’ (quite literally) low down and dirty apartment and the sleek, ultra-modern Park residence growing to become physical embodiments of the social chasm between the families. As the two locations slowly consume each character, gradually turning from home to hell, Bong Joon-ho uses every inch of the restrictive setting to his advantage.

While the locations themselves may seem relatively simple, Joon-ho’s clever camerawork, Hong Kyung-pyo’s beautiful cinematography, and some powerful editing mean that every inch of the limited environment is utilised to its full potential. From the strikingly effective use of space and architecture in both homes to a spectacular torrential storm that dominates Parasite’s third act, Joon-ho crafts a visual delight that feels both grounded and otherworldly.

Although his recent flirtations with Hollywood have proved fruitful, it’s great to see Bong Joon-ho returning to his roots and to the kind of quirky, small scale tales that he built his reputation on. Both accessible and uniquely idiosyncratic, Parasite holds a broad appeal while talking very specifically to the director’s home country. As an indefinable, thematically dense piece of social satire, Parasite takes the universal theme of class divide that Joon-ho broached in Snowpiercer and runs with it in new and exciting directions, worming its way into your very core and staying there.