There’s something depressingly relatable in seeing art about housing crises from other countries as it’s something that hits people so personally, knowing that we’re not alone. The sad part is obviously that it’s happening at all, with little social security, and this is the feeling that dominates The Tenants – Yoon Eun-kyung’s feature debut in which things have got so bad, people will exploit every loophole and pull any trick to get a bit closer to a “better life.” Shin-dong is a dedicated office worker with dreams of leaving his small apartment and attempts to raise funds by letting out parts of his flat. He finds himself taking in the first people to express interest (who request to live in his bathroom), and the film only gets more absurd from there.
Eun-kyung establishes the heightened futuristic dystopia of the film subtly, with casual integration of technology and characters continually coughing because of the outdoor pollution. He smartly uses his limited resources for stylistic flourishes, such as online calls depicted through characters having conversations in the same room, and then popping out of existence when they leave. Keeping it low-key allows for the humour to come through, as children play uncaring landlords, and casual discussions compare grades of severity for colonoscopies.
The social commentary is clear, but the skill of the film is letting the messaging infuse the story rather than dictate it.
The other advantage to a simplistic approach is that it allows the audience to focus on the absurdist horror rather than the sci-fi concepts. The titular tenants are immediately striking, with the imposing husband wearing a horned hat, and his wife, with her pale face and disassociated persona. The mysteriousness of their request to sleep in the bathroom instead of the more sizeable living room is only the beginning of their odd behaviour, which includes night-time walks and “miraculous minimal breathing”. It’s no surprise then, that Shin-dong gets increasingly irritated by them, but also uneasy as he questions their true motivations.
But despite this creepiness, these characters, indeed all the characters in this society, are tragic figures struggling to find any happiness in an uncaring society. Kafkaesque is an overused term for this sort of bureaucratic absurdism, but it’s clearly an inspiration – whether through the presence of roaches (reminiscent of Metamorphosis), or Shin-dong resembling the exasperated Josef K from The Trial (the choice of black-and-white aesthetic evoking Orson Welles’ adaptation of that book). Shin-dong’s opening description of the “mundane routine in the city” sets the scene neatly, but the film shows this in action as everyone is reliant on supplies from a City Hall that fails to meet their needs, or fulfil the promises made to the citizens.
As Shin-dong’s only friend (that he callously refers to as Mr Dork), tells him, everyone in this world is so depressed that “psychiatrists will profit greatly”, and when even the people who are meant to care for the ill work primarily for themselves, there’s surely no hope to be found. The social commentary is clear, but the skill of the film is letting the messaging infuse the story rather than dictate it. It’s a film made out of frustration that’s funnelled into its characters, who exclaim that they “feel like I’m stuck in the same place no matter how hard I try”. Given that Parasite also tackled a similar issue, it’s a testament to The Tenants that it’s only now I’ve thought of that comparison, and suggests that Eun-kyung is definitely a director to keep an eye on.
The Tenants (2024) played at Fantasia 2024 – Canadian Premiere
