David Tizzard is a professor at Seoul Women’s University, holds a PhD in Korean Studies, and hosts the Korea Deconstructed podcast. He has lived and worked in Seoul for more than two decades. Reach him at datizzard@swu.ac.kr.
How 'The Wailing' became the defining Korean horror movie
"The Wailing" / Courtesy of Disney Plus
By David A. Tizzard
It had been just over a week since I sat and watched the film with a group of visiting students. But there I was, at 4 am, awake, staring at the corner of the room, my mind racing with images from the movie. My breath sharp. A physical sensation ran through my body. Whether I liked it or not, this movie was now part of me. Part of my subconscious. How long would the imagery haunt me? How long would I think back to those closing scenes involving the robed man looking up at the priest? Why did this film affect me so much?
I don’t have the answer to any of these questions. But I do know that this Korean movie didn’t end when the credits rolled. It began. And that morning as I glanced around my room, I was very glad it’s only a movie.
Korean horror
"The Wailing" doesn’t feature in the recent New York Times’ movie rankings. "Parasite" topped that list, but I think "Memories of Murder" is a far better movie. Elsewhere "Train to Busan" and "The Host" are often regarded as the country’s best horror movies, yet the latter is more akin to a comedy or a family drama. The monster of the movie making an early appearance and then being relegated to a relatively minor role as the various characters try to resolve their own personal issues. "Train to Busan" is a brilliant movie. It’s a high octane, in your face, Ma Dong-seok zombie-punching, ride. However, that movie is more likely to make you cry than scream. You watch heartbroken as the outrageously handsome Gong Yoo survives the whole film only to find himself having to make one final sacrifice to save his daughter. The movie ends with tears and music.
But "The Wailing" is different. You watch for more than two hours, confused, waiting, wondering. The efforts of a fat hapless village policeman are interspersed with long lingering shots of the mountains that dominate the Korean countryside. You watch a family come to terms with a daughter’s illness and a town struggle with the presence of an outsider. But where is the evil? The monster? The thing that’s meant to scare you? The thing that woke me up that morning?
That’s the beauty of this movie. You are forever left in doubt. Constantly on edge as the movie twists abruptly like a hot snake. Who do you trust? Where are the answers? What happened at the end? The woman in white? The shaman? Are they dead?
And yet ultimately, all the ambiguity is intentional. For what is life and death, especially when our loved ones are taken from us, but inexplicable and unexplainable? That’s why there’s no redemption arc in "The Wailing." There’s no neat resolution, and no one saved. Not even the innocence of a young girl is spared. Instead she becomes both a victim of cruel chance and the direct consequences of her father’s choices. If only he had trusted. If only he had believed. But trusted and believed whom? At the center of this movie is a man who trusts no one and believes in nothing. And that, ultimately, is what dooms him.
A meditation on humanity
The local policeman at the heart of this film is played to perfection by Kwak Do-won. He is a useless, snoring, bumbling and inept father and local official. But we see him gradually get braver as the movie progresses, throwing him into ever more stressful situations. He laughs, cries, shouts, swears and erupts at all the right times. His love for his daughter feels real. The character arc is fantastic and it is through him that we experience everything. His physical and psychological survival feels constantly on a knife edge and that’s what keeps us the viewer gripped to this movie. I love that he’s not overly handsome, as well. He’s exactly who you would expect to find in that town.
Hwang Jung-min is probably one of my favourite Korean actors and his role as the charismatic shaman throws everyone for a beautiful curve ball, including our bumbling protagonist. And then there’s Jun Kunimura. This guy simply owns the movie. Often saying nothing. Just standing there. And because he’s Japanese, the local people can’t communicate with him, and thus the frustration and mystery grows. You even begin to feel sorry for him, seeing him as a Frankenstein’s monster, chased and harassed by xenophobic villagers with their literal and metaphoric pitchforks.
But then the film delivers its most unsettling twist: the Japanese man isn’t a misunderstood outsider. He’s an actual demon. His presence in the quiet Korean village is not driven by logic or vengeance, but rather by a perverse desire to spread confusion, suffering and destruction.
“It’s bad to see the devil, but it’s much worse when the devil sees you,” said David Ehrlich capturing the essence of the film’s final moments. When the Deacon enters the cave and confronts the Japanese man, all pretenses fall away. The true face of evil emerges. And what a face! If you see a clip or image of it in isolation, you might not think much of it. But when you’ve been watching this movie intently for two hours, and you travel to that cave, what you see makes your heart stop. It’s true. Even just writing about it now is making my skin crawl. And yet I can’t turn myself away from it.
Horror in hindsight
So "The Wailing" isn’t just a horror film. It’s a meditation on faith, morality, and the terrifying ambiguity of evil. Aliens and monsters are easier to process than the idea that darkness can reside within us. It can be dangerous ideologies, infectious violence, even colonial forces that disrupt and reshape local realities. That latter aspect plays very well into this movie with anti-Japanese sentiment a clever cover for what is actually happening.
Director Na Hong-jin always knew "The Wailing" would divide audiences. In an interview, he shared how someone online perfectly explained the movie, only for others to completely disagree. But that didn’t bother him. “When 400 people watch a movie, there will be 400 different interpretations,” he said.
If and when you watch this movie, I’m sure you’ll reach for the internet. You’ll look for explanations. Theories. Analysis. And as you do, the movie will start to retroactively make sense. The hairs on your arms will begin to stand up. Your mind racing backwards, putting together the pieces of this horrible puzzle. And then it hits you like a ton of bricks. That was it! "The Wailing" reveals its horror in hindsight. And oh god. The horror!