Parasite (2019)

Bong Joon-ho builds Parasite the way an architect builds a house: every level means something. The Kim family lives half underground, their window framing the street at ankle height. The Parks live up a hill, behind a wall, in a house of glass that looks onto a lawn no one seems to use.

The first hour plays as a caper, nimble and very funny, as the Kims talk their way into the Parks’ employ one by one. The pleasure is in the choreography — the timing of a cough, the placement of a peach. But Bong keeps tilting the frame, and the comedy quietly turns into something heavier.

Up and down

What makes the film last is that it refuses easy villains. The Parks are not cruel so much as insulated; their kindness is real and also costs them nothing. The Kims are sympathetic and also capable of real harm. Bong’s sharpest observation is that the system leaves very little room for anyone below to look anywhere but sideways — at each other.

Hong Kyung-pyo’s camera and Lee Ha-jun’s production design deserve as much credit as the script. Rarely has a single location told a story this clearly.

Verdict

A rare film that is both a perfectly tuned entertainment and a lasting piece of social criticism. It earns its reputation.