Barking Dogs Never Bite
Canicide is the order of the day in Bong-Joon-ho’s stylish and mischievous directorial debut, made twenty years ago.
Barking mad: Kim Jin-goo, Lee Sung-jae and the Shih Tzu
Barking Dogs Never
Bite has taken twenty years to reach UK screens – and all it took was four
Oscars. True, the film launched the career of South Korea’s most famous
cinematic export, but why it has languished for so long is one for the gods of
distribution. An anarchic, mischievous and ingenious black comedy, it sets down
the rule book for Bong Joon-Ho. There’s a creepy basement, burgeoning
academics, domineering women, poor reception, tutors, characters crammed into
tight spaces and violent about-turns in tone. It’s also a visually stylish
lark, with a freewheeling nonchalance reminiscent of the Nouvelle Vague, underlined by an improvisational, jazzy score. If
the stars had been aligned differently, Barking
Dogs Never Bite could have been the Parasite
of its day. But the world was not ready then.
It opens with the statement “No animals were harmed in the
making of this film”, which should both reassure and disconcert the viewer.
Indeed, our canine friends feature prominently throughout the capricious plot and
are no allegorical allusion or red herring à la Dogs Don’t Wear Pants (which is also available on Curzon Home
Cinema). The film opens on a black screen over which we can hear the incessant
yapping of some unseen cur. It’s enough to drive a person crazy. The camera
then alights on a vista of woodland, gradually intercepted by the back of our
protagonist’s head as he rises into view. Ko Yun-ju (Lee Sung-jae) is on the
phone and when the camera pulls back we realise he’s actually standing in front
of a balcony in a faceless apartment block.
It’s a neat narrative trick and the next shot follows Yun-ju
as he attempts to pinpoint the source of that yapping. The young man is already
under considerable stress, struggling to secure a professorship via dubious
means, while catering to every whim of his pregnant, overbearing wife (Kim
Ho-jung). Dogs aren’t even allowed in the apartment complex, so when he finally
stumbles across an unattended Shih Tzu, he scoops it up and bags it. However,
just as he’s about to drop it off the rooftop of his block, he’s interrupted by
an elderly woman drying her radishes. He then tries the basement, where he
attempts to hang the pooch by its lead from an overhanging pipe. But, catching his
reflection in a mirror, he bottles out and, for the time being, locks it in a
cupboard.
Warning: the Shih Tzu is not the only dog in the plot and,
this being Bong Joon-ho, there is some canine mayhem, missing dog posters and a
variety of heart-broken dog lovers including Yun-ju himself. It’s complicated,
but every detail is meticulously woven into the whole, so that even the drying
radishes have their day in the sun. All this is played for laughs, of course,
and one can never predict where the story will pirouette next, as the director
tightens his noose on the narrative. While mining the absurd, Bong takes
delight in extracting humour from the minutiae of the everyday, wrapping it all
up in a series of stylistic flourishes. Both irreverent and, at times, even
elegiac, his is a fiercely original concoction cementing the reputation of a world-class
filmmaker. Bong even manages to make the dog killer sympathetic who, in a moment
of quiet desperation, cries, “I’m going to the dogs!”
Original title: Flandersui
gae.
JAMES CAMERON-WILSON
Cast: Lee
Sung-jae, Bae Doona, Kim Ho-jung, Byun Hee-bong, Go Soo-hee, Kim Roi-ha, Kim
Jin-goo.
Dir Bong Joon-ho, Pro Cha Seung-jae, Screenplay Bong Joon-ho, Song Ji-ho and Derek Son Tae-woong, Ph Jo Yong-gyu, Pro Des Lee Hang, Ed Lee
Eun-soo, Music Jo Seong-woo, Costumes Choi Yun-jung.
Uno Films-Curzon.
106 mins. South Korea. 2000. Rel: 18 September 2020. Available on Curzon Home Cinema. No Cert.