Don't Cry, Mommy: Young Rapists Underestimate Victim's Vengeful Mother

I think I might be a bad person because my favorite violent crime pics are those with extended revenge sequences. I like when a terrible crime is followed by an equally terrible execution of justice. I like when whomever did the harming gets a lot more hurt inflicted on him. Because of that, Don't Cry, Mommy is my kind of movie. A fast-paced thriller in which a young, single mom (Yu Seon) goes after the three punks (Shin Dong-ho, Kwon Hyun-sang, Lee Sang-min) who gang-raped her daughter (Nam Bo-ra), writer-director Kim Yong-han's purposeful movie makes you feel the pain of the victim and those who love her and understand the rage that ensues when sociopathic criminals are set free, simply because they're under a certain age.

The courts and the cops are too lenient. The detective (Yoo Oh-seong) on the case is only partly sympathetic, which may explain why his daughter withholds some key evidence. Why put your life on the line when the system is so forgiving of evil children? Apparently even key evidence on a phone that shows the two rapes -- yes, the boys come back for more -- doesn't secure the mother's belief that she can get a Death Penalty or even a Life in Prison so she takes matters, and a large kitchen knife, in her own hands.

I actually didn't find the idea of the boys texting the video to their victim the least bit unbelievable. I also bought the notion that she would be so traumatized by the first attack that she might not choose to effectively fight back the second time either. The part I couldn't understand is why the rape survivor would decorate a cake with "Don't Cry, Mommy" before the whole world went to total Hell or why the mom would give a crap about whether the kids would admit to doing the heinous crimes once she'd seen it on the videos. Or why she wanted to get their phones, too, when she already had evidence. PTSD logic?

Black House: A Contract With the Devil

Tonight, I'll probably have nightmares. That's what happens when you watch a stomach-turning thriller like Shin Terra's Black House over a bowl of Raisin Bran in the morning. You may think you have a whole day ahead of you to forget about the stabbings and the dismemberments, but this freaky little film about a female psychopath (Yu Seon) and the busybody insurance agent (Hwang Jeong-min) who foolishly gets between her and her money is, in a nutshell, unforgettable. In many ways, Black House is a Korean variation on Silence of the Lambs, a suspense-horror hybrid in which a serial killer is being pursued by someone who's got a few issues of his/her own. The fact that here "the good guy" is a bespectacled, chapped-lipped claims processor instead of an inexperienced-but-attractive FBI Agent is actually all to the good of the movie because it makes the hero a little less sympathetic and the conflict a lot more problematic. He may be working for justice, but he's also a tool of the machine. She may be incapable of feeling remorse, but she's also hardly living the high life and she's stuck with a limp. As the killer kook, Yu turns in one of those bone-chilling performances in which the eyes become the gateway to no soul. She's so riveting, you almost want her to win or at least luck out with parole.

The Uninvited: Shellshocked Duo Leave Few Shocks

For much of Lee Soo-youn's The Uninvited, the two main characters walk around in a daze. For him (Park Shin-yang), the causes include a blow to the head, being overworked, repressed childhood memories, premarital jitters, and possibly a drinking problem. For her (Jun Ji-hyun), the stupor is caused by narcolepsy, post-traumatic stress disorder, depression, a contentious divorce, and perhaps too much medication. (Later you learn, she's also a closet shaman!) The pair first meet -- where else? -- in a psychiatric office: She's there as a client; he's come on business as an interior designer. A good ninety minutes into the movie, their sympathetic diagnoses finally get to meld into one type of craziness. Until then, The Uninvited is just a lot of blank stares of incomprehension, made dramatic by a couple of girl ghosts materializing periodically. The film's last half hour is vastly more spirited than the rest but when the charming Yu Seon, as the lead's no-nonsense girlfriend, leaves the protagonist in exasperation, you share her sentiments if not her reasons. As thrillers that use amnesia go, this one is completely forgettable.

The Wig: Sister, Don't Mess With My Hair!

Ji-hyeon (Yu Seon) is faced with a serious dilemma in Won Shin-yeon's The Wig. Strange things have been happening since her leukemic sister (Chae Min-seo) returned from the hospital. Ji-hyeon suspects that the cause of this recent downturn of events (e.g., her fiance dumping her and a close friend turning into a homicidal killer) may have something to do with the wig bought for her bald, terminally ill sibling. Yet she also senses that this same purchase has restored her sister's health and imbued her with a bit of friskiness. What to do? Since she can't talk to anyone about the various complications and suspicions because her vocal cords were severely damaged by a steel rod that fell off a truck (more bad luck!), she kind of lurks around looking maudlin. Who can blame her if she squeaks in confusion? By the time she decides to take action (you go girl!), her world has been completely upended. Turns out her former boyfriend was once seriously involved with a trannie; now that same ex-lover wants a relationship that spans the grave. The truth may shock but rejected or not, this is one damsel in distress who is not about to give up on her man after she finds out that he's uninterested, unfaithful, and gay. Horror of horrors.