
2016 · Na Hong-jin
A reading · through the lens of theory
Na Hong-jin's 156-minute rural horror presents itself as a procedural — a mystery that should, by genre convention, yield to a fumbling policeman's dogged investigation — and then systematically destroys every mechanism by which resolution might arrive. This is the signature move of what Thomas Elsaesser calls the mind-game film: not a narrative withholding its answer but one that shatters the foundational contract that films don't lie, leaving the viewer unable to adjudicate between the Stranger, the Woman in White, and the deacon even after the credits roll. The film's Korean title concentrates the argument: 곡성 names both the real Gokseong county and 'the sound of wailing,' a pun that announces its governing preoccupation with grief and the impossibility of certain knowledge. Undergirding this epistemological assault is a sustained crisis of the action-image: Jong-goo cannot convert perception into deed — every near-certainty collapses into a contradicting interpretive frame, and the genre imperative to act in order to save his daughter becomes structurally impossible, not through weakness of will but through the film's insistence that the evidence itself is incoherent, that Jong-goo's eventual certainty about the Japanese Stranger may be discernment or may simply be xenophobia dressed as intuition. Hong Kyung-pyo's mise-en-scène enacts this double instability cinematographically: early pastoral wide shots hold Gokseong's wet hills and cluttered interiors with bemused sociological distance — spaces that feel legible and mappable — before those stabilising views cede to closer handheld observation that strips that readability away. The epistemic architecture descends directly from Rashomon (1950), whose irreconcilable witness accounts Kurosawa structured not as a puzzle with a hidden answer but as a philosophical payload — the same formal logic The Wailing transplants into folk horror, where the unresolved finale delivers not detachment but dread.