Spiritwalker (2020, Yoon Jae-geun)

I was expecting Spiritwalker’s MacGuffin to disappoint, but I wasn’t expecting it to completely derail the film. Spiritwalker is a high-concept action thriller about an amnesiac, Yoon Kye-sang, who discovers he is quantum leaping from person-to-person every twelve hours. He also has a very particular set of skills. Those skills come in handy because everyone he jumps into is some kind of underworld figure. Yoon’s got vague memories of his life before—something about a woman, Lim Ji-Yeon, of course—and his only friend is Park Ji-hwan.

Park’s character is an unhoused person who happens upon Yoon in a car accident and calls it in (while searching the car for loose items). He’s also the most uncomplicated fun Spiritwalker ever gets to have, with lots of comic reactions to discovering Yoon in a new body. Yoon mostly plays the part every time, with reflections and camera footage showing the actual person he’s possessed. After the MacGuffin reveal, Spiritwalker makes several bad moves, but the worst is Park mostly disappearing from the movie, followed by director Yoon Jae-geun not using Yoon enough. It wouldn’t end up mattering—the third act is a CGI composited action ballet bloodbath–but after a whole movie creating his character, director Yoon shafts actor Yoon.

There are some other big problems in the post-MacGuffin film, as well, like Spiritwalker deciding the criminal underworld also needs a covert espionage agency subplot tacked on and then final boss Park Yong-woo having a pointless drug addiction bit. The movie runs an hour and fifty-ish minutes and could easily lose ten from the third act. There’s lots of needless activity just to drag it out, which makes sense since the MacGuffin’s so bad.

Approximately the first half of Spiritwalker is a sort of neo-noir. Yoon is working his way through this criminal organization, jumping from crook to crook and trying to remember what’s going on. Sidekick Park can only help so much, and since all of the people Yoon’s inhabiting are dangerous criminals, no one really wants to exposition dump with him. Especially not Lim, who thinks he’s a bad guy (obviously).

The amnesia and identity crisis mix works, especially since director Yoon never tries too hard with the action. All of actor Yoon’s “particular skill” scenes surprise him, which makes the scenes more entertaining and sympathetic. The reveal on the quantum leaping will be both bad and insipid, but—again—what happens after is even worse. As a thriller director, Yoon’s solid. As an action director? Not so much. His composition for the third act is always off and always predictable. He goes through the same setups over and over. All of Spiritwalker’s technical pay-off comes in the early second act; the rest is a visual bore.

Until the script literally abandons him, actor Yoon’s a good lead. He does the confused quantum leaper thing well, though it might not be a compliment. He’s best at being bewildered without character development. Lim’s fine as the not femme fatale who inexplicably has a similar particular set of skills. That late second act reveal of the espionage agency’s involvement pays zero dividends and trades ostensible coherence for personality. Suddenly, director Yoon wants to be making a John Wick or something, complete with level bosses; Lim gets lost in it all.

Park Ji-hwan is good and fun as the sidekick. Park Yong-woo is fantastic as the big boss; it’s an exceptionally thin part, but Park devours enough scenery to plump it up.

The rest of the supporting cast is solid without being distinct.

Spiritwalker’s only ever going to be able to go so far on its concept, but it should’ve been able to go farther than it gets. It’s never bad and is rather compelling until the loud, yawner of a third act, but it’s a definite bummer.

The Gangster, the Cop, the Devil (2019, Lee Won-tae)

According to the opening titles, The Gangster, The Cop, The Devil is based on a true story, which is—I assume—why it takes place in 2005. The story, about a cop (Kim Mu-yeol) and his least favorite gangster (Ma Dong-seok) teaming up to take down a serial killer, comes off like a seventies update of M. But not for any good reasons. I mean, Park Se-seung’s cinematography is fine but the piss yellow lighting on the night scenes (and the film’s got a lot of them) would look better if it were set in the seventies. Along with Jo Yeong-wook’s score, which is so generic it sounds like they bought a bunch of royalty-free music tracks. Though maybe if the direction was better it wouldn’t matter. A lot of the time during the film, you wonder what it would be like if the direction were just a little bit better.

As a director, Lee is a low mediocre. There are a few times, especially with car shots for some reason, he dips below mediocre and you can’t tell if the shot’s his fault or if it’s Park’s fault. Doesn’t really matter, because as a writer Lee is a low mediocre too. Devil runs a somewhat lengthy 109 minutes. There are long unpleasant stretches; not when Lee’s establishing a high level of violence in the first act (which he then never matches or even approaches again), but when there’s a lot of exposition with the cops. See, Kim is a super cop but only because he’s not on the take like his boss (Yoo Seung-mok, who does better work than the role deserves). It’s not like he’s smart. He only figure out there’s a serial killer because everyone else is stupid and lazy and besides maybe he wants to impress CSI Kim Gyu-ri, who’s in the movie to give it a single female character. There’s so little chemistry between the two they could be siblings (I came up with that joke before I realized they had the same surname). Actually, outside their credited character names, there’s nothing in the film to disallow that relationship—Lee’s a really, really low mediocre writer. 109 minutes and there’s not an ounce of character development in the script. Bit players with funny lines have more depth than the main cast.

But it doesn’t matter because it’s got a good hook—the killer, played by a really effective Kim Sung-kyu, is scary and dangerous. See, he rear ends cars and then kills the drivers. Cop Kim figures it out because CSI Kim isn’t good enough at her job to notice the scuff marks on the back of the car. It’s okay because neither are any of the male cops. Only Kim is good enough. Because he’s better looking than everyone else and he’s not on the take. And he’s likable. He’s not charming, not with Lee’s writing and direction, but he’s likable. Kim can handle the trifling super cop bravado stuff. He just doesn’t have a character.

Pretty soon after the serial killer gets started and Kim’s ideas get shot down, gangster Ma gets attacked. By the serial killer. Only Ma is a kickass fighter, built like a tank, and able to throw people around. Now, during the attack sequence, it should have been clearer but Devil’s secret power is editors Heo Sun-mi and Han Young-kyu. It isn’t clear because Ma’s such a badass you think you’re just watching this great action scene but then, later on in other action scenes, it becomes clear Heo and Han are doing a beautiful job cutting it. And somehow Lee, who’s got some super bland Panavision composition during the exposition (it shouldn’t have been shot so wide but it’s now the norm since it no longer takes work or talent to shoot so wide), knows what shots to get during the action scenes to allow Heo and Han to make it pretty.

Very strange.

But good, because it pays off in the third act, which goes on way too long. And in the second act, when there’s a great fight scene with Kim and Ma teaming up. Really good fight scene.

The film’s super power—not it’s secret power, but it’s obvious power—is Ma. He’s great. Even with a razor thin part and a questionably competent director, Ma turns in a phenomenal performance. Sometimes you just sit and wonder what it would be like to see Ma directed with ability. He knows what he needs to do in a scene, even if Lee seems to have no idea.

Still, while Ma’s great, it’s not a great part. Devil shortchanges him. Ma’s a super star without a super star part.

So there are some significant caveats, and it goes on forever because Lee’s narrative storytelling chops are rough… but Devil’s fine. It’s engaging thanks to its cast and the plot hooks. And that editing. That gorgeous, gorgeous editing.