A Comical Yet Poignant Creature Feature

For those who are attuned to the ever-changing environment of the cinematic-industry, it will come to no surprise to perceive and understand that the Cannes Film festival is notorious for audiences and critics alike to bashfully jeer at a film-makers piece of work and what they’re trying to thematically convey. Indeed, you only have to look at the hasty disapproval’s that directors of Quentin Tarantino and Nicholas Winding Refn have received in recent years to comprehend Cannes’ audiences contempt of new titles screening at the event. As much as films, in the past, were booed during their showing, Bong Joon Ho’s recent filmic outing of Okja instead received a rare distinction during its premiere at Cannes a couple of months ago; it was booed before it was even displayed. This was thanks to the appearance of the Netflix logo which was shown before the films opening which, to many cinephiles, is mark against the ‘artistic professions’ of cinema that is arguably declining the traditional theatrical experience. Sweeping aside the tension between the purity of cinema and the inevitability of technological advancement, it can’t be understated how Okja is a cinematic piece which not only satirically echoes the masking nature of corporate capitalism, but horrifically delves into impact of animal cruelty and how it effects people and animal alike…

 For the past 10 years, young Mija has been a caretaker and a constant companion to Okja – a massive special kind of super-pig – at her home in the mountains of South Korea. However, Mija’s world falls into a fray as a family-owned multinational conglomerate, known as the Miranda Corporation, takes Okja for themselves and transports the animal to New York where image obsessed and self-promoting CEO Lucy Mirando has big plans for Mija’s dearest friend. In discovering her friends sudden disappearance, Mija sets out on a rescue mission, but her already daunting journey quickly becomes more complicated when she crosses with disparate groups of capitalists, demonstrators and each consumers; each battling to control the fate of Okja…  

In similar vain to his preceding feature of Snowpiercer, and to some extent his 2006 film of The Host, director Bon Joon Ho comparably has constructed a filmic piece in Okja that not only primarily focuses on highly-determined protagonists who take on near-impossible quests who soon realise that they’re pawns of a much greater scheme, but also focuses on on the frailty and the importance of animals and how this conjuncts with the greed of corporate capitalism that is thoroughly explored through the absurdist comic-relief performances of those who want to take Okja away from Mija in the story presented. It will come to no surprise by those are associated with Joon Ho’s filmic work that he’s a director that manages to construct stories on a consistent basis which coherently amalgamates chaotic story-telling with political intrigue that other film-makers would find hard to balance in relation to the narrative proceedings. This contextualised stylistic trope alone is why Joon Ho’s films are perceptively attachable which, in turn, makes it hard not to get caught-up in the ideas and thematic promises that he brings forth in the films that he’s established; and his latest film of Okja, is no different. What is more prevalent to notice this time around however, in regards to this films contextual prowess, is its rather familiar yet eccentric combination of narrative sensibilities. While it’s feasible to perceive that Okja is a film that echoes the formulaic structure of a classical fairy-tale, with the main character of Mija setting of an a journey to ‘save’ her friend and ‘defeat’ those who impose on her well-being and happiness, Joon Ho’s film, more relevantly, strikes a parallel to Simon Amstell’s Carnage and how it brings forth this motif of carnism – a concept used to discuss humanity’s relations to animals and our consumption of meat – in relation to the this “super pig” of Okja and how it’s a rare breed of animal, in this film, that will provide more meat to society whilst also making the smallest impact on the environment. While this confliction of contextual tones will be off-putting to audiences who were expecting this film to be a rather serious fantastical feature that solely comments on the implications of animal cruelty in this day-and-age, the combination of the different tonal sensibilities, where we have idyllic childlike moments between Mija and Okja continuously bonding with each other in the hills around her grandfather’s farm and contrasting scenes inside slaughterhouses that are so starkly violent and graphic that they belong in a horror-flick, is an aesthetic that Joon Ho manages to balance for the majority of the time. For a film to span a time of just 2 hours which manages to balance the more harrowing issues with the light-hearted sequences of Mija and Okja interacting with each other, is an achievement that shouldn’t go unnoticed. While the scenes themselves project this seamless disparity of the film evoking contradicting themes that coincide with one-another, nothing addresses the complexities of the said themes more than the masking performances of Tilda Swinton, as the image obsessed Lucy Mirando, and Jake Gyllenhaal as the eccentric zoologist of Jonny Wilcox. Similar to how Okja presents itself to be a film that upholds different narrative sensibilities, from the formulaic structures of fairy-tales to other films that similarly project themes of how animals are mistreated in today’s society, the performances of Swinton and Gyllenhaal specifically express this idea of capitalism essentially being two-faced and masking their own integrity. For example, while Gyllenhaal’s character of Wilcox on the outside is perceived to be this T.V. personality that interacts with animals in a care-free manner, as the film goes on, his true colours are revealed very manically; which can be said of Swinton’s character as well. What this subsequently allows us to look at within Joon Ho’s film is that, even though naysayers will arguably comment and say that as the film follows a structure that is relatable to a classical fairy-tale and conforms characters to be one-dimensional, it’s intersting to notice in Okja how nearly all the characters that are displayed have their own motivations and goals which intricately weave together once the concluding sequences are shown. Again, as much as a small minority of the Netflix audience will be arguably perplexed over the ever-shifting tones of the film, with it deviating from an innocent creature feature from the 1st act to a film that explores motifs of genuine serious discussion, the characters themselves are not presented to be assigned to a singular-role. Instead, what we’re given with concerning the characterisation, are different and varying characters that have their own stories to tell us; placing our perspective in each of the characters shoes which prompts us to arguably justify why they do what they do in order to be true to themselves and to their purposes. While the majority of the viewing audience will latch-on and moderately sympathise with the emotional journey that Mija takes in retrieving Okja for her own sake, don’t be surprised if others will engage with the actions of the A.L.F (Animal Liberation Front), led by Paul Dano’s character, or even the behaviours of the antagonists who are tasked in finding a solution to food shortages; even though the actions they undertake in trying to succeed this is crude to say the least.  

For for a film such as this which merges realistic and serious themes with a fantastical yet absurdist structure and story, one of the more effective aspects to notice in Okja, which perfectly projects the motifs presented, are the performances of the characters since they all a calculated believability. As mentioned before, the performances of Tilda Swinton and Jake Gyllenhaal are the standouts and both demonstrate what Joon Ho is trying to convey of corporate capitalism and how there is a rather profound and malevolent mind-set of those who miss-treat animals for actions that others would necessarily sneer and go against. This is perfectly summarised through the appearance and actions of Gyllenhall’s character in particular since he is shown to be this Steve Irwin style animal show-host who is ecstatic and over-the-top about animals, but is really an individual who is squeaky-voiced maniac that only cares about himself. It wouldn’t be surprising if audiences would find his ridiculous performances to be obnoxious and off-putting. However, Joon Ho’s casting isn’t only determined in evoking the way in which the rich will go at great lengths to appear as being benevolent while building their fortunes upon the suffering of the poor. The enactment that twelve-year old Ahn Seo-hyun performs as the innocent yet determined Mija is the prime example of Okja also being as fantastical and as goofy as it is. Possessing the perfect balance of stubborn perseverance and short-sighted decision making, Ahn’s projection of Mija feels genuine and sincere which is always a tough frequency to dial into when comes to adult films with child characters since they’re normally structured and engineered to be characters that always need saving and don’t have any impact to the outcome of the narrative. 

Less successful is the titular creature itself. Designed as a hippo-sized cross between a pig and a dog, Okja is cute and charming enough as a character that we care about as the course of the film goes along, but never succeeds as a special-effect embodiment that is believable to the eye. Indeed, given the the size and prominence of Okja throughout the film, she’s too weightless in her physicality and rather cartoonish in her frantic movements to ever fully sell the idea that she’s an actual animal rather than a computer-generated construct. Despite this however, even though it’s noticeable to perceive the manifestation of Okja as a computer-generated item that somewhat breaks the line of verisimilitude, the many interactions is has towards the array of different characters and the environments it’s placed in, is fairly fine to look at in comparison to bigger-budget films that sometimes employ the use of CG animals that don’t look as half as pleasing. What’s more important than the look of this creature as well, is the relationship that Okja has with Mija since the younger demographic will latch onto their heartfelt attachment.

Despite the film receiving unnecessary back-lash from purist cinephiles that willingly disregard the emergence of full-length features being streamed on sites like Netflix and Amazon, it can’t be understated how much Bong Joon Ho’s latest film of Okja is a rather entertaining and thoughtful entertaining creature feature that finds the perfect balance in being engagingly outlandish yet harrowing at the same time. Although the amalgamation of the different tones of the film may be an aspect of the film that a select few will be uncertain by, it’s through the somewhat believable performances of the cast and the way in which Joon Ho comments on capitalism through the harrowing sequences and frantic characters shown that makes Okja to be one of said directors most heartwarming yet strange films to date. The biggest query however is that, with its interestingly opinionated and entertaining presentation, can Okja find an audience on already established steaming platform that continually ensnares its audiences towards other, more recognisable, films and T.V. series?…

On that note, it’s time for to end this week’s film review. As always everyone, thank you for reading my latest film review of Okja and I hope you’ve all enjoyed the read! 😉 If anyone has an opinion on either my review or on the film itself, please feel to drop a comment down below. Next week, I will hopefully try and bring you a review of Spider-Man: Homecoming. Before that review comes out however, I am in the middle of putting together a short Blog Post for this weekend which I think you’ll all like. Anyways, thank you for reading this week’s Blog Post, and I’ll see you all next week! Have a nice weekend! Adieu! 😊😎✌

★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ – Alex Rabbitte