‘Decision To Leave’ NYFF 2022 Review – A Flat Mystery Romance From Park Chan-wook

The long-awaited and incredibly hyped latest film by the acclaimed director of Oldboy and The Handmaiden has taken the film world by storm. Fans, though, be warned: this is going to be a very ungenerous reading of the film, from a critic who did not connect to the film’s central couple.

Park Chan-wook’s Decision to Leave is the story of a man digging his own (metaphorical) grave. Hae-jun (Park Hae-il) is a softboiled detective with the face of a puppy who’s about to drown. However, like any good noir protagonist, he’s one of the best in the force, so he’s sent to investigate the accidental death—or murder?—of a climber who’s plummeted off a cliff. The key person of interest is the man’s Chinese wife, Seo-rae (Tang Wei). And when she boldly states that she’s not sad about her husband’s death, Hae-jun is immediately—and obviously—attracted to her.

The string of bad decisions he’s about to make is about as obvious as an exploding dumpster fire. He pursues her in the most romantic way he knows: stalking her, recording her private Chinese conversations, staking out her apartment. (Oh, also, did I mention that he’s been away from his wife this whole time?) But Seo-rae knows all this. She watches him back; perhaps the detective is less in control of this personal investigation than he thinks.

The development of this twisty, mysterious, and ungodly messy relationship between Hae-jun and Seo-rae is the film’s major focus and selling point. And that’s the thing: if you do feel the main couple, this could be an amazing film. But if you, like me, don’t entirely buy into the relationship of the two leads, Decision to Leave becomes an overlong tale with little depth outside its main couple.  

Park’s film is very difficult to describe: it’s subtle to the point that most descriptors feel like overkill. It’s dark, but not really that dark. Sultry, maybe, but much of Hae-jun and Seo-rae’s relationship is developed at a distance. A slow burn, but without the fire. Hae-jun’s too pathetic to be a classic hardboiled detective, and Seo-rae isn’t quite the usual femme fatale (especially considering how self-inflicted Hae-jun’s obsession with her is). And the film itself slips away from the genre labels it’s marketed with. It’s been called a noir romance, but it’s not really noir; a mystery thriller, but it’s not really about the mystery or suspense.

The fact that Decision to Leave refuses to slot neatly into one genre isn’t itself a problem. After all, genre subversion is nothing new to Park’s work, which often revel in twisty plots and razed expectations. But Decision to Leave is less subversion, more a studied avoidance of genre tropes. It tries not to be a mysterious murder investigation, or a suspenseful thriller, or comedy – so it ends up being not much at all, aside from a murky romance sprinkled with an undeveloped mix of various genre elements.

Compare this to a film like The Handmaiden, which not only subverts its tropes, but commentates on them, adding dimensions of complexity to the story beyond the main cast’s relationships. Even if you hate Hideko and Sook-hee, for instance, or despise Count Fujiwara, or find the whole ensemble way too over the top, there’s a lot to explore in the film. In Decision to Leave, though, if you’re not invested in Seo-rae and Hae-jun’s relationship, you’re out of luck for the film’s nearly 2.5 hour runtime. (And to be abundantly clear: this is a commentary on story structure, not about the lack of the bizarre plot points, sex, or violence that vintage Park films are renowned for.)

You may argue that the point of the film is its main couple. But this film devotes good chunks of its 2 hour 18 minute runtime to plenty of stuff that’s not really linked to Seo-rae and Hae-jun’s simmering dynamic. In general, many scenes and side plots are unnecessary, underdeveloped, or both. For a film that seems to not really be about the mystery, for instance, it spends a lot of time on setting up various mysteries—even well into its second hour, once the main relationship is established. Much of this latter half feels like a forgettable rerun of the first, with a much less compelling story.

There’s also the side characters who, despite taking up much space in the narrative, remain woefully underdeveloped. Hae-jun goes through two obligatory comic relief sidekicks, Soo-wan (Go Kyung-pyo) and Yeon-su (Kim Shin-young). He also occasionally visits his wife, scientist Jung-an (an underappreciated and underused Lee Jung-hyun). She delivers the film’s most quotable lines, hands down, but has lamentably little character development. (I supposed it’s easier to cheat on your wife when she’s more a 2D plot device and snarky quote dispenser than a fully formed person, though.)

As I said in the beginning, though, this is an ungenerous review. Unlike what my writing might suggest, I did not hate watching Decision to Leave. It is, by no measure, a bad film. The editing is, like most of Park’s films, creative and sharp. The landscapes are breathtaking; seeing them on the big screen in the theater was a treat. And I can appreciate Park’s more grounded exploration of a unique character dynamic, and delicate handling of his story instead of sticking to genre tropes.

If you enjoy Hae-jun and Seo-rae’s relationship, this film will likely be deeply symbolic or enjoyably poetic. Otherwise, Decision to Leave might be an experience that’s at turns entertaining and frustrating— a movie that’ll leave you not quite set on leaving, but not entirely enjoying the stay, either.

Decision To Leave was viewed in the Main Slate section of New York Film Festival 2022. The film is currently playing in select theaters courtesy of MUBI. 

Director: Park Chan-wook

Writer: Park Chan-wook & Seo-kyeong Jeong

Rated: R

Runtime: 138m

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bmoy73lhs-s]