Lawrence Osborne

How Korean cinema mastered the art of horror

[Alamy] 
issue 19 December 2020

There is a moment in the Jung brothers’ 2007 ghost film, Epitaph, when a young doctor in wartime Korea realises that the wife he adores does not have a shadow. He is entertaining her with a shadow puppet show in their home when he notices the aberration. ‘Walk to me,’ he says as he waves a naked light bulb in front of her. She had been a visiting medical student in Japan a year earlier and, unbeknownst to him, had died in an accident. It’s a moment that perfectly illustrates the psychological subtlety and brilliant scene-making of Korean film.

Epitaph is about a group of young doctors working in a hospital under the Japanese occupation. Linking different stories and the appearance of gwisin — wandering and vengeful ghosts — the gorgeous imagery and narrative complexity marked a turning point in the outside world’s perception of K-Horror, a genre which had hitherto produced its fair share of schlock.

Get Britain's best politics newsletters

Register to get The Spectator's insight and opinion straight to your inbox. You can then read two free articles each week.

Already a subscriber? Log in

Comments

Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months

Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.

Already a subscriber? Log in