Expecting the unexpected goes hand in hand with the films of Park Chan-wook. His latest, Decision to Leave, a pulpy, borderline farcical crime saga, is no exception. The results, however, pale in comparison to his masterstrokes, even if the film itself still works overall. But then perhaps standing up to the likes of Oldboy and The Handmaiden is no small task.
The film follows Hae-jun (Park Hae-il), a cop investigating a murder in which the victim’s widow, Seo-rae (Tang Wei, the standout of the film), appears to be the most viable assassin. What Hae-jun did not suspect, however, is to be so charmed by this enigmatic new femme fatale, even as her Chinese descent others her to the South Korean authorities suspicious of potential foreign threats. If it sounds like the blueprints of a noir melodrama, Chan-wook has taken a much more surprising route to telling this story of intrigue and deception. Decision to Leave is a very funny movie. Think Vertigo’s plot but presented as a rom com.
Hae-jun’s courtship, all behind the back of his wife (Lee Jung-hyun), takes a heightened approach that doubles as the film’s greatest distinction and greatest weakness. What’s immediately clear is that Chan-wook has the tools to bridge a grizzly crime saga with outright slapstick. The film is brimming with style that only amplifies the humor that works its way into nearly every early scene. Precise editing conjures more than a few brilliant sight gags.
But what’s also clear is that this unusual juxtaposition isn’t sustainable in getting one’s audience to care and feel for what’s unfolding onscreen. For too long, it seems like the film can’t quite decide what it wants to be. Thankfully, Decision to Leave eventually reveals that it has much more to give as the plot progresses.
A mid-movie time jump resets the table while also giving us a chance to empathize better with Hae-jun as he moves forward from his initial experience with Seo-rae. But when she re-enters his life in a similarly bloody scenario, he’s sucked back into her vortex, unable to see the line separating Seo-rae’s love and lies. This repetition bolsters both the comedy and the drama. The humor in this section is more character driven, thus ensuring it doesn’t undercut the investment we’ve gained for these characters. On top of that, the film’s visual style evolves into something more operatic and grandiose. And with all that comes genuine thrills.
The visually arresting climax sees Chan-wook mostly earn the emotions of his melodramatic plot even with the farce of it all intact beforehand. Hae-jun’s arc over the film reveals itself in full, offering a challenging albeit satisfying end to this saga. Still, the feeling that this is minor Chan-wook pervades. Decision to Leave as a whole simply isn’t as successful as his most notable works. But as entertainment, it definitely succeeds. Its introspection is just lighter and less profound than what we know this master is capable of.
