Globalisation can be expressed without globetrotting, as multiple nationalities come together in particular locations and productions can utilise a range of global influences in their production. Such a film is Vanishing, also called The Vanished, depending on which site you find it on, or indeed ‘Salajin’ or ‘salajineun’ in Korean. While Vanishing brings together multiple concerns over nationality and class, language and science, all of these concerns intersect in a tense, gripping and compelling thriller that makes great use of its Seoul setting. Although it is credited as a French production, with French companies and principal crew including writers Denis Dercourt and Marion Doussot and director Dercourt, the Korean setting and indeed themes are reminiscent of those in Korean cinema, especially class and economics.
When women’s bodies start turning up in too decayed a state to be identified, the Seoul police turn to a visiting forensic expert from Paris to assist. Dr Alice Launey’s (Olga Kurylenko) assistance leads to the identification of an organ trafficking ring, but this aspect of the film is revealed to the audience early on. Therefore, the viewer can spend time digesting the horror of a criminal practice that involves kidnapping, non-consensual surgery and murder. Despite the inherent and sometimes graphically depicted body horror, there is also a chilling datafication of this practice, as the trafficking involves computer hacking and falsifying records. Present the necessary documentation, and you can literally transport anything. Notably, we are introduced to victims as the traffickers see them – literal body pieces dumped by a river and valuable parts such as livers transported in boxes.
Thanks to some impressive forensics, in scenes reminiscent of CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, these anonymous victims receive identities, in terms of names as well as nationality and class status. Although this insight comes from the visiting French professor, Alice is far from a white saviour figure, providing genuine assistance without hijacking the extremely competent Seoul police, most prominently Inspector
Jin-ho Park (Yoo Yeon-Seok). Furthermore, despite her expertise, Alice has her own problems as evidenced in an early scene that appears to be one thing but is later revealed to be another. Further reveals occur in relation to Alice’s translator Mi-Sook Lee (Ji-Won Ye) and her husband Dr Lee (Seung-Jun Lee). Dangerous connections pervade the film, typical of sociological crime films from Heat to Infernal Affairs to Layer Cake. Financial necessity is tied to social expectations as well as class and racial prejudices, not to mention genuine human emotions ranging from desperation to compassion. The victims are an immigrant class; the beneficiaries are desperate people; the malefactors are a combination of organised crime and people desperate in their own way; the heroes are professionals with very human problems.
“… it is a testament to the film’s investment in its characters within their social context that even when horrendous actions are taken, we are shown the emotional impact and invited to understand if not condone the actions taken”.
Pleasingly, director Dercourt never presents the social problems as something specifically Korean, not least through a keen interest in the film as well as the characters in internationalism. The film presents Seoul as the bustling metropolis that it is, but the city is never exoticised or eroticised into a strange place for the European to marvel at. Rather, Seoul is presented as a city with multiple aspects and areas, some beautiful and others very ugly, much like Paris, London, New York or any other modern city. Aspects of global culture also inform the characters: Mi-Sook dreams of visiting Paris while Jin-ho as well as his niece Yoon-Ah (Soi Park) are proud of their French. Language forms interesting connections as, initially, Jin-ho and Alice converse in English while also trying out their halting French and Korean on each other. The strand of romance between these two is sweet but feels unnecessary, and there are some contrivances in the final act that somewhat derail the story into cliché.
That said, while the mechanics of the plot become a little obvious, there is an emotional character through-line that remains satisfying, allowing past trauma to inform the drama. Other character aspects include Jin-ho’s magic tricks, brilliantly used in a stand-off situation with a character who is both contemptible yet pitiable. Tense sequences including cars racing through traffic and locked rooms lead to
gripping outbursts of violence, and there is the deeply distressing aspect of children in peril. However, it is a testament to the film’s investment in its characters within their social context that even when horrendous actions are taken, we are shown the emotional impact and invited to understand if not condone the actions taken.
This investment points to what is perhaps the strongest impression that Vanishing leaves. The film is an intelligent treatment of the interconnections between social groups and social demands, where police, science, crime, medicine, devotion and commerce come together like the interconnections of the human body, themselves precious and so terribly fragile when the grim spectre of capitalist exploitation looms
over us all.
Signature Entertainment presents The Vanished on Digital Platforms 7th November
