Smells Like All Slap and No Tickle

Director: Yang Ik-Joon
Main Cast: Yang Ik-Joon, Kim Kot-bi

Violence, more specifically domestic violence, is the core subject for Yang Ik-Joon’s debut international feature. Sang-Hoon (played by the director) is a debt collector - a man immersed in the Korean criminal underworld, almost numb to the daily acts of violence he commits. However, a chance encounter with a 3rd grade schoolgirl forces him to face up to his shady past and even shadier present. Can Yeon-Hue (Kim Kot-bi) bring a level of humanity back to Sang-Hoon’s sad, lonely existence? If you can handle the blood and guts, it’s well worth joining this unlikely double act in their very emotionally charged journey of discovery.

Cinema Release Date: 29th January 2010

Life can sometimes be like running on a treadmill – no matter how fast you pump your legs, you may as well be at a standstill for all the ground you’ve actually covered. But is it possible to break out of the social mould in which you’ve been created and nurtured? Children tend to follow in the footsteps of their parents – taking on certain character traits and behavioural patterns – and this life cycle is laid bare over the course of two hours.

Sang-Hoon is a case in point. From the moment he hits the screen, he’s hitting other people. A brawl breaks out between a couple on the curb side – Sang-Hoon breaks it up by attacking the guy, and then turning his venom on the girl. He wanted to teach them both a lesson; one doesn’t deserve to beat, and the other shouldn’t be content to take a beating. But Sang-Hoon doesn’t just trawl the streets looking for a fight, he’s a hired hand - paid well to muscle in whenever is required.

However, rather than saving his money, or luxuriating in it, Sang-Hoon gambles and gives it away. He tries to relate to his stepsister and her young son, but constantly fails - unable to engage on a level beyond just a faceless banker. His father is newly released from prison and we also see Sang-Hoon making a vain attempt to forge a relationship with him, but there seems to be too much underlying anger to make that possible.

The only person that Sang-Hoon truly seems to connect with is a mouthy teenage girl – a bolshie wit, who gives as good as she gets (“What are you staring at? You into faceology or something?”). Yeon-Hue is the first person for a while who stands unafraid in Sang-Hoon’s brutal shadow. She does not quake in fear, as – unbeknownst to Sang-Hoon - she saves that all for the instability of her home life. Out on the street Yeon-Hue reinvents herself and in doing so, earns an unexpected respect.

As an audience we get to learn a lot about Yeon-Hue’s back story – witnessing her father’s mental decline, as well as her brother’s engagement with the gang mentality that pervades their neighbourhood. In a series of flashbacks we also learn about Sang-Hoon – the violence of his past that led to his father serving time and shaped the man he is today. Interestingly, the characters never discuss this – they share a common ground that is never verbalised, but is almost tangible.

Breathless is a rollercoaster ride that really will knock the wind out of you. Speeches are rattled off at the rate of machine gun fire, as are the profanities. The sounds of fists on flesh are either a muffled inference off screen, or a bloodied mess in close-up. Violence is not glamorised, but it is spread as thick as butter across almost every scene of the film. If you’re expecting the wide boy charm of a gangster-lite Ritchie flick, then you will be left sadly disappointed. Breathless is more likely to leave you slightly unnerved as it holds a mirror up to a community caught in flux.

Country of Origin: South Korea
Running Time: 130 mins
Certificate: 18