KEY CHANGE

Where the revolt in

(above left) is gritty and violent, (above) portrays its class warfare through subterfuge. comes down to it, this is a savage piece of work. It brims with symbolism, with an especially vivid use of smell that ought to be impossible to convey on screen, but which Bong treats with nonchalant ease.

The radical narrative puts our sympathies firmly with the impoverished Kim family, whose gradual infiltration of the upper-class Park household drives the plot. The Parks aren’t bad people; indeed, they are the victims of a crime, and arguably the ‘Hollywood’ version of Parasite might tell the same story from their perspective. Yet they have the intellectual and emotional indolence of the very wealthy. They simply don’t have to think about their next meal; they have somebody on hand to prepare it. Instead, by making us complicit in the Kims’ guile and ingenuity – from stealing wi-fi to stealing an entire home – Bong shows things that others seldom see. Often, this is literal: from the Kims’ basement home to a hiding place underneath a table, the camera stoops to ground level or even lower. So often in the movies, stairs go up: they are typically a symbol of upwards mobility. Here, we rarely, if ever, see the Kims climb the stairs in Parasite, although we certainly see them descend. Indeed, the film’s gloriously unhinged twist relies on discovering how far down it’s possible to go. Which leaves Bong in an interesting place. He surely can’t get any higher after this - but don’t bet against him finding a way to avoid the drop. Simon Kinnear