2019 Favorites: November — Parasite

Bong Joon-ho’s masterful movie bends genre without every losing its tone and message.

Zac Pacleb
5 min readDec 25, 2019

In a venture that is equal parts keeping track of some of the favorite things that happen in 2019 and also stretching my writing muscles to think about things other than sports (and more specifically), I’m going to post about my favorite things I come by each month. That includes anything from a movie to a tweet to a great meal. Here’s to enjoying, and remembering, the best parts of the year.

January: Maggie Rogers’ Heard It In A Past Life
February: Desus & Mero Return On Showtime
March: Sabrina Carpenter Concert @ House of Blues
April: Game of Thrones “A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms”
May: Florence + the Machine Concert @ T-Mobile Arena
June: Booksmart
July: Ashlyn Harris’ World Cup Instagram story
August: The Farewell
September: A Fortune For Your Disaster
October: Looking For Alaska (Hulu)

Favorite of the Month: Parasite

About midway through Bong Joon-ho’s Parasite, the Kim family is enjoying the spoils of their hardworn scheming. They’re scarfing down food, drinking expensive liquor and talking about their dreams. It’s the first time you really learn about any sort of hopes that the characters have for their future because for the first time in the movie, and potentially for Ki-woo (played by Choi Woo-shik) and Kim Ki-jeong (played by Park So-dam), in their lives, they can afford to dream. And then, as it seems like they’ve won, everything turns to chaos.

At this point in the movie, Parasite bends from a dark family comedy into a psychological thriller while withholding the tone established in the first hour. As the former housemaid breaks up the Kim family’s dinner and reveals what is lurking underneath the house, the long, dark hallway shot pulls the viewer into this next phase of the story, the next level of Joon-ho’s story. The transition is seamless, but instead of feeling like a twist or a betrayal, he pulls off this moment as something more like an awakening. Like, of course this wasn’t going to go as well as we’d been led to believe at this point.

Earlier in the movie, Ki-woo is given a scholar’s rock meant to bring his family good wealth. He gazes at the rock and says, “This is so metaphorical.” The line, which is repeated later, is played for comedy, almost to poke fun at those like your’s truly who want to look deeply into the composition of different scenes or the subtext in the screenplay to search for some sort of deeper meaning. Of course, metaphor lives in plain sight throughout the film, from the different houses to the way the characters move and hide when the suspense builds.

Watching this movie felt like watching a basketball player heat up and keep the hot hand throughout the entirety of the game. But to call the choices director Bong makes a “heat check” would be a disservice to his track record. Moreso, it felt like one of those great LeBron James games. You know he has this kind of greatness in him at all times, and when everything is clicking, you buckle up and absorb what you know could be historic. Maybe that’s a hyperbolic assessment of either man’s skills, but when you consider the fact that Joon-ho does not shoot any coverage — meaning the shots in the movie are the only angles of that scene — it’s hard not to marvel at the ultimate command he has over the medium.

Parasite is a movie which feels like all the right choices were made in terms of telling this story of two families and conveying the themes steeped in class warfare. It’s not a subtle message, nor is it heavy-handed. The movie is downright beautiful, but also haunting. The images stick with you, and with that, so do the ideas communicated in the movie. To that end, Parasite is a masterful piece of filmmaking, and I’m hoping Bong Joon-ho receives his deserved recognition when the Oscars roll around next year.

Honorable Mentions:

Adventures in the Screen Trade by William Goldman

I’ve been meaning to dive into William Goldman’s writing for a while, and reading about his life as a Hollywood screenwriter was a joy and whip smart insight into what Hollywood was like and in many ways, still is. Given his role as a screenwriter, who by his admission, accidentally got into screenwriting, he had the entertaining viewpoint as someone whose opinion carried some weight when it came to moviemaking, but not enough to overthrow directors who had other ideas. From the preproduction phase all the way through how certain movies that should work don’t or don’t work should have, Goldman takes you into the strange world that is Hollywood.

Goldman is surprisingly self-depricating throughout the book. Surprising only because this is the same guy that wrote Princess Diaries, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and All The President’s Men among other classic films. Given that this book came out in 1983 and is about the decades before, it captured a Hollywood on which I did not grow up, one more focused on movie stars and individual stories rather than extended universes and IP. In the end, it’s a fun read and worth anyone’s time who is into movies.

The Meyerowitz Stories / The Squid and the Whale

Other than Frances Ha, I hadn’t watched any Noah Baumbach-directed movies. With Marriage Story looming, I figured I should walk through his filmography a little bit to better tune myself for his upcoming Oscar-favorite. I watched several of his movies, but these two stood out for different reasons. The Meyerowitz Stories represented a reminder that Adam Sandler is very good when he wants to take a break from on-location Netflix comedies. The first scene of the movie where Sandler is looking for parking with his daughter represents both Sandler’s unique ability to save an explosion for the right time and Baumbach’s layered, off-topic but on-another-topic conversational writing.

The Squid and the Whale, on the other hand, carries that same tone that carries over all Baumbach movies while playing with the interesting dynamic of how a divorce impacts the children involved. Both display Baumbach’s lived-in conversationalism in his writing and also his ability to string a thread subtly throughout an entire story.

Ford vs Ferrari

Ford vs Ferrari is an absolutely capital-M Movie. Loud, fast and centered on a couple guys working against the establishment to accomplish a goal that goes beyond dollar signs and fame. Matt Damon plays a wonderfully subdued performance as Caroll Shelby, and Christian Bale is doing the most — per usual, in the best way — as Ken Miles. I know next to nothing about cars, but this movie is one of the better sports movies to come out in the last few years. It’s a bunch of fun, if not a little predictable at times. Go watch this on the biggest screen with the loudest speakers you can find.

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