Thirst (2009)
Directed by: Park Chan-wook
Cast: Song Kang-ho, Kim Ok-bin, Kim Hae-sook, and Shin Ka-hyun
Studio: Focus
DVD Release Date: November 17, 2009
Review by: Britt Hayes

I’m not a huge fan of vampire movies, books, anything; but over the last two years, you might think I was with how much I loved Let the Right One In. It seems these days if you say you enjoyed a vampire film, everyone thinks you’re some sort of vampire fan girl/boy. In conversations with friends, I often hear them say “I don’t like vampire stuff, but I really enjoyed (insert vampire movie/book/TV show).” I’m not sure if this preface became necessary because Twilight ruined the vampire comeback, or maybe it just seems so silly and immature to be attracted to vampires in media. It’s almost like saying “I’m not gay, but…”

For the second year in a row, a foreign vampire film has captivated me. Park Chan-wook’s Thirst is a brutal, gorgeous, twisted, at times funny, and very sexy love story. That’s right: a love story. There are moments of horror and brutality, but at its bones, Thirst is a love story, pure and simple. Park is best known for Old Boy, a superb and very twisted tale of revenge (one that, thankfully, Spielberg is NOT remaking).

Sang-hyun (Song Kang-ho) is a priest who tends to the sick and dying, offering them last rites and walking them through their final hours. But lately Sang-hyun has been questioning his faith, as any person who works with the dying every day is bound to do. He decides to head to Africa to participate in a medical trial to find a cure for the deadly Emmanuel Virus (EV), a disease that only affects men, creating blisters all over the skin and inside orifices before finally claiming its victim. Sang-hyun is infected with the virus, and just when it seems he is about to die, he is given a blood transfusion and makes a full recovery. Out of 500 test subjects, Sang-hyun is the only one to live.

He returns to his village and is praised as a bandaged saint. The sick begin camping outside his church grounds, and people beg for him to heal their sick family members, believing he can work miracles. One day at the hospital, a woman named Mrs. Ra asks Sang-hyun to heal her son, Kang-woo, who is dying of cancer. As it turns out, Sang-hyun and Kang-woo were old childhood friends. Kang-woo soon goes into “remission”, but Sang-hyun believes that he isn’t really healing anyone. He knows that these people feeling better is psycho-somatic and temporary.

Sang-hyun begins stopping by Mrs. Ra’s house every Wednesday to play Mahjong. Immediately he’s taken by Kang-woo’s wife, and another childhood acquaintance, Tae-ju (the gorgeous and adorable Kim Ok-bin). The attraction is mutual, and soon the two cannot resist each other any longer. After giving in to each other one night and almost having sex, Sang-hyun returns home and has a full EV relapse. He coughs up a large amount of blood and falls to the floor, where it appears he has died. In the morning, the sun begins burning his skin, and he has an insatiable thirst for blood.

As a vampire, Sang-hyun is tempted more and more by sin. He tries his best to avoid killing anyone, and prefers to reverse IV drips at the hospital and drink the blood of the unconscious patients. His lustful affair with Tae-ju continues, until one night he tells her that he is a vampire. At first she is terrified by his admission, but soon overlooks it and even becomes enamored with his abilities. Their relationship continues to grow and become more and more dangerous for all involved. It becomes apparent that Tae-ju may be more dangerous for Sang-hyun than he thought.

It’s common knowledge that priests aren’t allowed to date, much less have sex, and of course it’s immoral to cheat on your spouse…but adding to the mix that Sang-hyun is a vampire makes everything feel a bit more taboo. Sang-hyun’s desires aren’t just the forbidden wants of a priest – now that he is a vampire, these wants have turned into needs, and it seems that just drinking blood isn’t going to do it. Tae-ju joins Sang-hyun for the ride, and the two of them become a volatile pair.

To tell you too much more than this would be a disservice. There are great elements that follow, ranging from bloody to haunting, immature, brutal, and sad. Sang-hyun and Tae-ju’s relationship – beyond all of the gorgeous effects, set-dressings, and Park’s intriguing eye for editing – is one built to spill. The pair fall madly in lust, mistaken for love (as oft times it is), and abandon all morals and ethics, believing that no matter what they will still be together, and it will all work itself out (as oft times it does not).

It’s hard to decide who you feel more sympathy for: Sang-hyun, who did not ask to be a vampire, and was content to die for a cause, and only now gives in to all manner of sin for a woman he thinks he loves (and why wouldn’t he? As a priest, this is the only woman he’s known); or Tae-ju, a woman with little faith, so mistreated by her husband and mother-in-law and desperate for a way out, who believes she finds love in a priest – a man with plenty of faith to spare – only to show herself to be more monstrous than he.

But as we all know, you can’t build a relationship on sex and lust alone. And Sang-hyun and Tae-ju find out too late that they are completely incompatible. Unfortunately, Sang-hyun can’t see a life without Tae-ju, and the old saying becomes quite true: Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em. The two become so entwined with one another, so covered in blood and depraved, that they just can’t break apart, and the longer this goes on, the harder it is to step away.

Park does an excellent job of creating a film that elicits a feeling from the viewer that is mirrored in the emotional evolution of the characters. It’s a downward spiral of emotion, and by the end of the film you feel so mired in the mess created by these two lovers, that you too can see no other way out. Park’s camera work is absolutely stunning, at times stark, and never heavy-handed. Some scenes are a bit short and shown in quick succession, and you may find yourself wondering if the scenes you’re watching are part of a dream sequence – they aren’t.

There’s an excellent part nearing the end of the film, where Sang-hyun wants to cast off his saintly image, and chooses an interesting way to do so. I felt so taken by this point in the film. It’s rare when you find a movie that makes you question yourself morally and ethically, or even romantically. So many films hold up an illusion of depth, especially concerning moral quandaries and life philosophies, but when you get to the heart of it, it’s all syrupy sweet and wrong. Someone learns a lesson and it all works out – but not here, not this time. The choices these characters make, for good or bad, are interesting ones.

Maybe the only issue with the film is the running time. It’s a little over 2 hours long, and there were a few moments that could’ve been left on the cutting room floor and felt unnecessary to tell the story. My greatest complaint is with the DVD itself. There are no special features, no commentary or interview with Park Chan-wook. Often with these foreign films – especially Asian ones – put on the shelves by American studios, we’re left with no special features. It’s a shame because I love Focus Features, and I think they put out some very interesting independent works, so naturally I assume they’d show more love and care with a release like this. Instead, your only options are which subtitles to use. Perhaps in a year or two we’ll see a Blu-ray version of Thirst with all the trimmings.