3 out of 5

Director: Jeong Byeong-gil

Jumping in to view ‘Confession’ for any given few minute segment can impress upon its glimpser the following notions: that the movie is sloppy, or choppy, or showy, or cheap, or just a little confused.  And all of those things are true.  But it’s to co-writer / director Jeong Byeong-gil’s credit that his material is stuck to an interesting concept, and that he remembers that the core of the film is quite serious, even if that affect certainly gets lost at various moments when the flick decides it wants to be an action movie or include a bit of slapstick.  Jeong certainly isn’t the first to combine genres, but on the whole, that is a skill that comes with time.  This being Jeong’s second film – after a doc on stuntmen, probably accounting for the semi-random inclusion of insane free-running and car chase sequences – he’s not quite there yet.  But his director’s eye seems interestingly fused with a video game era sense of visuals, which, nourished with patience in the silver screen world, might eventually lead us to a perfect slam-bang meld of styles.  This is something we’ve achieved in  the action and sci-fi genres, but it’d be cool to see it cross over into a legit drama.

The movie opens with some confusing and perhaps unnecessary flashback flim-flammery: a scarred Lieutenant Choi (Jung Jae-young) is sitting down to some dinner before some comes crashing through the window.  Wait – is it him?  And indeed it is.  We’re now flashing back to Choi’s struggles with a serial killer – 10 women dead, his hopeful bride-to-be missing and presumed to be #11.  Jeong assails us with some camera gimmicks, jumping into first person view when a character is on his back, inverting the vision, or using some inventive editing (or maybe a go-pro, who knows) to follow the chase as it bursts through more windows and jumps from rooftop to rooftop and ends… with the killer inflicting a cheek wound upon Choi which would become that scar and then escaping.  The physical cue is a cute ploy, and the seamless transition to memories is used again, so this scene eventually works into the beats of the film, but while you’re processing how flashy the camera work is, you’re distracted by wondering if you’re reading the scene correctly… so its something of a difficult intro.  We move on to 15 years after this, when we’re told that the statute of limitations having expired on these crimes has allowed someone claiming to be the killer (whose face was masked to Choi) to step forward with a book called “I am the Murderer.”  The claim is that its an apology, but the insane amount of press this causes and subsequent riches from the book becoming a quick bestseller call into question the author’s true intentions.  The public’s reaction to the book is the centerpiece of the film – Choi expressing doubts as to Lee Doo-seok’s (Park Si-hoo) claims but unable to refute the level of detail in the text, and the ridiculous but totally believable cult of obsession that instantly springs up around Lee, since he turns out to be quite the handsome and charming young chap.  Some slightly goofy bits with a group of Doo-seok’s victims’ survivors constantly planning attacks against the supposed murderer muddle with the tone, as does a ridiculous car chase sequence… though god damn is that sequence pretty effing awesome.  There’s also some odd CGI that undermines the film’s general slickness, and I was constantly curious why no one mentioned how young Doo-seok looked.  But Jung Jae-young gives Choi a very believably brittle, grudging acceptance of his role as an officer now having to sometimes protect this killer and Lee is pitch-perfect creepy charm.

It essentially boils down to a cat and mouse – did he do it or didn’t he?  And we’re purposefully kept in the dark as to Choi’s real feelings on the matter, lending the proceedings – which, those odd tone moments aside, is handled with some very effective patience and stoic framing of scenes – a building tension.  The end has some stunning moments but strains the suspension of disbelief in order to escalate things to a final confrontation.

The high-octane moments look pretty awesome but are at odds with the majority of ‘Confession,’ which is a more sober observation of publicity and obsession than it initially seems.  Director Jeong proves capable of handling both styles well, though stitching them together prevents the flick from being as effective as the story certainly could’ve afforded.  Still, definitely a dude on whom to keep an eye.