My head goes blank for a while as mulling over how the hell I can describe or explain to you on South Korean film “The Fifth Thoracic Vertebra”, which is, in my inconsequential opinion, one of the most singular films from South Korean cinema during last several years. As far as I remember, I have never watched anything quite like this, and, to be frank with you, I am still scratching my head a little on what it is about or how it is about. Therefore, I will just simply scribble on whatever I thought and felt during its rather short running time (65 minutes) here in this trivial review, and then you will decide for yourself whether you are going to try it or not if you ever get an opportunity to watch this opaque but undeniably compelling cinematic experiment. 

The movie opens with the extreme close-up shot of a shabby mattress to be delivered to a little one-room apartment where a young couple has just moved on one winter day of 2000. While her boyfriend is virtually doing nothing at all, the girl moves their stuffs including that mattress one by one, and we are not so surprised when their relationship eventually becomes quite estranged during next several months.

However, the movie subsequently focuses more on a little strange happening inside the mattress. As indirectly announced to us at the very beginning, the mattress happens to be infected with a mysterious kind of fungus, and this fungus keeps growing inside the mattress while the couple somehow overlooks the hygienic condition of the mattress. Around the time when the couple inevitably comes to have a painful moment of separation, the fungus somehow comes to acquire a sort of intelligent consciousness, which incidentally happens to be influenced a lot by the girl’s angry and bitter feelings on the separation.   

After that, the movie dryly observes what this mysterious organism does as its little habitat is moved around here and there along the story. Whenever somebody happens to be very close to the mattress, it quickly snatches a vertebra from its unfortunate human target, and we accordingly wince a bit as getting some grisly moments of flesh and blood involved with how it gradually grows further via its snatched vertebrae. I am sure that this will instantly remind you a lot of those disturbing horror films of David Cronenberg – and a bit of Clive Barker’s “Hellrasier” (1987) for good reasons.

In addition, the movie can be compared with Jonathan’s Glazer’s underrated SF horror film “Under the Skin” (2013) to some degree. As its mysterious fungus character is developed more and more in terms of mind and body, the movie often throws striking visual moments which feel weirder with its atmospheric synthesizer score, and these bizarre scenes alternatively baffle and fascinate us – even though we are not so certain about what they actually mean or represent in the context of the film.

Nevertheless, director/writer Park Sye-yong, who also edited the film in addition to handling the cinematography and sound effects of the film, keeps holding our attention under his skillful direction. As we continue to follow its fungus character’s seemingly aimless journey amidst different locations and various human interactions, we also come to sense a sort of emotional growth behind that, and that accordingly functions as the main narrative line onto which we can hold to the end.   

At one point later in the story, the mattress happens to be put on the bed of a dying woman at a hospice, and that is the most poignant part in the film. The dying woman turns out to have a little personal wish, and that seems to touch the fungus character, which has already grown into a humanoid form around that point. It comes to show some compassion to the dying woman before she eventually dies, but, unfortunately, it does not succeed in fulfilling the dying woman’s wish due to some bad luck. 

Meanwhile, the mattress keeps getting moved from one spot to another spot just like that self-conscious plastic bag in Ramin Bahrani’s sublime short film “Plastic Bag” (2009). In the end, the mattress and its inhabitant find themselves abandoned at a remote spot in the middle of some wilderness, and then there comes a surprisingly moving moment which takes me back to all those wondrous moments of life in a little documentary film called “The Fantastic Fungi” (2018). Again, I cannot tell you on how to process and interpret this curious moment exactly, but I can say at least that I admire a lot how Park is willing to go further for his visual ideas.

In conclusion, “The Fifth Thoracic Vertebra”, which has steadily drawn attention since it was premiered at the Bucheon International Film Festival in last year, is one of more interesting South Korean films of this year, and Park surely demonstrates here that he is another new talented filmmaker to watch. In addition to already directing several short films, he has also distinguished himself a lot in photography and fashion promotional films, and these notable aspects of his considerable talent are quite evident from his dexterous handling of mood and style in the film. Yes, he certainly wants to present something quite new and different to audiences, and the result will leave indelible impressions on your mind regardless of whether you like it or not.