Short Takes: Three Korean Masterpieces Are We

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t week I wrote a little about Wong Kar-wai's plan with Korea's SBS to make 100 episodes of TV, in a joint-production deal. Turns out the first instalment is to be called SHE 2002 on Asian women and their lot, and will be shot by the maestro himself. As if that doesn't help raise Korean awareness round the region, the rest of the world is getting its fair share now too. New York's Subway Cinema, a platform for Asian film appreciation at 235 5th Avenue, Brooklyn is in its final days of showcasing 10 Korean films in a mini-festival, (aptly titled When Korean Cinema Attacks!).

It’s hard enough to watch any film these days, walk out and feel reminded of nothing else you’ve watched before. Let's face it, anyone whose diet includes Pearl Harbor, Rush Hour 2 and Jurassic Park III is bound to be anaesthetized to anything that comes without McDonalds' wrapping. Korean film feels new, that's because it is new and nobody knows much about it. But most importantly, it's unlike anything else because it’s damn good cinema. Experimental yet technically svelte, it craves intimacy, it shows intimacy, it makes hearts beat and weep, then in the same turn, pulls them out and plants them on the street for all to see. It gets belly deep laughs from social misfits, the criminal classes, the underprivileged and from middle-class catalogue-bland lives. Honesty doesn't frighten them and their cinema is far from cosmetic. Whether you know any Korean films or not, whether you can even find the place on map, or whether you think it's a brand of French yoghurt, here's three that outrank anything I've seen in the last few years.

"The Isle": shot entirely on a lake in a series of mobile huts, managed by one woman (Suh Jung) who brings the male guests coffee, bait for their fishing rods and her body for their delectation. It's liquid painting to watch and develops psychological spunk that oozes into your every pore. It does to your mind what "Cape Fear" did and Suh Jung does to you what Faye Wong did, times ten, in "Chungking Express".

"Barking Dogs Never Bite": Doesn't bark or bite, but throws off the lead. A crossbreed times ten. Absurd, emotionally disturbing, surreal, it can surprise in more ways than Luis Bunuel ever did. Contains the most lunatic dog-death scene ever. This film particularly captures the hybrid that Korean cinema gets at. Take an episode of NYPD Blue, toss in Sex in the City, and have it served up by Roman Polanski or Sam Peckinpah.

"Attack the Gas Station": Even more lunatic than "Barking". Four downbeats rob a gas station, then rob it again hoping to find more loot. They kidnap the attendants and subsequently customers they don't like. Again, the director goes for humour and high absurdity in what ultimately is the sad, social underbelly of the have nots. This is Asia's Pulp Fiction and more. It makes Tarantino's effort look like its prototype.

See any one of the above and then ask yourself if you can find the rest of the world on the cinematic map. Korean cinema; hot topics, hot zones and a decidedly hot pair of pants. Fancy it? I do.