Dir - Shin Sang-ok
Overall: MEH
More of a supernatural fairy tale than anything adhering to strict horror tropes, Madam White Snake, (Baeksa buin), is one of a handful of films in the genre from director Shin Sang-ok. In fact he remade it nine years later as The Snake Woman, (a movie that seems to be lost to time), with this one having an unhurried tone that unfortunately feels its length even if it is sufficiently crafted. The story is inspired by the Chinese "Legend of the White Snake" crossed with the old kaidan motif of a beautiful ghost woman and her companion fooling a handsome man that crosses their paths into thinking that they are very much alive. Despite her reptilian origins and manipulative nature, Choi Eun-hee portrays such an undead angel snake lady as benevolent and kind, doing everything in her power to stay on Earth and live out her domestic bliss, defying the supernatural rules of sky-dwelling divine beings in the process. The plot line follows a tragic trajectory where humans and whatever Choi is are simply not allowed to be together and mankind's inherent follies are held accountable for such a fate, but it ends on a pleasant note where Buddha's mercy reigns supreme.
(1965)
Dir - Lee Yong-min
Overall: MEH
South Korean filmmaker Lee Yong-min made a steady handful of horror movies in the last half of his career, yet sadly almost all of them are too obscure to find or simply lost altogether. Thankfully, A Devilish Homicide, (Salinma, A Devilish Murder, A Bloodthirsty Killer), has remained intact and if it is any indication of the writer/director's work in the genre, it showcases a bizarre vision that treads incoherent ground yet busts out random supernatural high jinks at a reckless rate. The first half here is unwavering in this respect, featuring a floating ghost lady that is hellbent on murdering a string of people that apparently wronged her ten years earlier. Lee utilizes sparse spooky music, otherworldly howls from beyond the grave, and freaky visuals like a melting painting and an elderly lady who gets possessed by a cat or something that starts licking her own grandchildren as they sleep. Yuck. It is a shame that things eventually settle down with a lengthy flashback sequence arriving an hour in, which shines a melodramatic light on the undead woman's grudge, involving blackmail and extramarital affairs and the like. The messy plot and inconsistent structure aside, it packs in plenty of macabre weirdness.
(1967)
Dir - Cheol-hwi Kwon
Overall: MEH
The first of only three movies directed by Cheol-hwi Kwon, The Public Cemetery Under the Moon, (Wolhaui gongdongmyoji, A Public Cemetery of Wol-ha), is problematically structured, with nearly the entire middle hour made up of a melodramatic flashback involving infidelity, a poison-prescribing doctor, a sick wife, and her imprisoned brother. This comes after a garish and macabre intro where a corpse introduces himself as the movie's infrequent narrator and we get some tacky color schemes, sinister noises on the soundtrack, and shots of long-haired skulls to give the genre enthusiast false hope. The film has a tacky and atmospheric quality, but the story that Kwon has come up with is painfully dull despite the actors giving it their wailing, exaggerated gestures-all. Lots of blaring sound cues, flashing lighting, blood, fog, vampire fangs, a severed hand, and other supernatural psyche-outs in the final act are hardly enough to make up for the dysfunctional squabbling that is at the center of things. Punctuate the script with some actually interesting drama and at least a few intense set pieces, and all of the other ingredients are here to make for a campy and vengeful ghost story. In other words, take out everything except the first and last ten minutes and you got yourself a winner.
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