Very rare is a film so delicately balanced in all of its elements (writing, direction, or performance) that nothing seems to drastically outweigh another as Park Chanwook's The Handmaiden. This movie is so precise in its storytelling and execution that it feels like watching a painting, where nothing is placed without purpose, allowing it to lay out in a well-rounded way with few loose ends. The Handmaiden manages to be a Rubik's cube of a movie that demands the viewer's attention, and it’s complicated for sure, but it’s also a feast to behold.

Taking place during the Japanese occupation period in 1930s Korea, The Handmaiden begins with Sookhee (Kim Taeri), a country girl and pickpocket, teaming up with a fake nobleman who calls himself Count Fujiwara (Ha Jungwoo), to con a rich book collector and his beautiful niece, Lady Hideko (Kim Minhee). Their plan is to have Sookhee work as the Lady's new handmaiden, Tamako, and convince her to marry the Count, who then plans to dump her in an asylum the first chance he gets. Sookhee is down for the cause as long as she gets her cut, but in spending time with Hideko, she quickly finds herself doubting if the reward is worth it.

To put it lightly, this movie has such a dense plot that just seeing it piece together is a marvel to behold. While the first third of the movie is set up pretty clearly, from that point on there is no predicting what's coming—nothing is quite what it seems—until it becomes nearly impossible to decipher who is telling the truth, who is lying, and who is pretending to lie while actually telling the truth and vice versa. Of course this is only possible with an A-list cast whose characters are written with so much care that their thoughts are translated in their expressions if they don't speak at all.

While very much a puzzle from the opening scene to the very end, The Handmaiden also directly embodies the art its plot is based around. Hideko is little more than a prisoner in her home, forced by her uncle (Cho Jinwoong) to read erotica aloud to the gentlemen who might buy books from his rare collection. These stories and the paintings within them, as well as Count Fujiwara's insistence that she learn to create art properly as a lady should, set the stage for the film overall as a persistent work of visual art and a testament to erotic film noir. That being said, it does its job well, with any sexual tension being communicated in glances and unnoticed gazing, until it culminates into a startlingly brazen sex scene that subverts any feigned innocence that came before it.

The flip side to the aforementioned point is that the men are portrayed strictly as pigs—each and every one of them. Hideko hates performing for old men, and they’re clearly disgusting for enjoying it, yet the movie itself doesn’t shy away from portraying a similarly lurid tale. On this front, it becomes unclear what its stance is on women opposed to being objectified and if these actresses are being just as objectified as their characters under the guise of critiquing the male gaze—but maybe that’s why these sexual undertones are cut with a torture scene.

Given it’s set among Korean people with heavy stylistic influence from Japanese and English fashion and architecture, The Handmaiden melds all elements to feel like a dream, befitting a story so decadent. Above all, it somehow manages to hit every note without feeling pretentious, to the point where Park Chanwook's Revenge trilogy now feels like practice leading up to a grand masterpiece. As such, it’s just not possible to deep dive into all the intricacies without mercilessly spoiling a near perfect cinematic experience, so just watch it if you haven’t.

Edited by Erin Rupprecht