No Other Choice

No Other Choice is no exception. Having ventured into television with the miniseries The Little Drummer Girl and The Sympathizer, the Oldboy director hasn’t been prolific in the film world of late. This is only his third film in the last decade following The Handmaiden and Decision to Leave, and it’s another display of formal mastery paired with pitch-black subject material — only this time, it’s also an equally dark comedy.

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When we first meet Mansu (Lee Byung-hun, best known internationally as Squid Game’s Front Man), he’s grilling expensive eel gifted to him by his work and proclaiming “I’ve got it all” after initiating a group hug with his wife and two kids. No one has ever said that in the first 10 minutes of a movie and not regretted tempting fate, a rule to which Mansu is no exception. He’s fired from his managerial job at a paper factory minutes later, which comes with different terminology in Korea; those who’ve had their positions terminated are told “off with your head,” a fittingly violent expression of what losing one’s livelihood can feel like.

At first, the family is cautiously optimistic. Mansu’s wife Miri (Son Yejin) quickly sets about budgeting, though that becomes dispiriting almost immediately: their beloved golden retrievers will need to stay with her parents, and soon they’ll even have to sell their home, which Mansu grew up in and was later able to buy. “Simplify, simplify,” but few of these changes in lifestyle — and, perhaps more to the point, status — feel like addition by subtraction.

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In fact, none of them do. Mansu defines himself in relation to his work: it’s how he spends his day, how he provides for his family, and a symbol of everything he’s accomplished. So when Miri jokes that she wishes the manager of another paper company would get hit by lightning, Mansu has a lightbulb moment. It’s a terrible idea sure to end in tragedy, but as soon as it occurs to him he’s already decided to see it through: Mansu needs to kill all the other laid-off workers applying for the same jobs he is.

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No Other Choice was adapted from Donald E. Westlake’s novel The Ax, with Park sharing screenplay duties with Lee Kyoung-mi, Don McKellar, and Jahye Lee. Costa-Gavras adapted the book 20 years ago, which is about when Park set about trying to do the same; the film is dedicated to the Greek-French filmmaker, whose wife and son are credited as producers. It was clearly a passion project for Park, and it shows in every bravura shot by cinematographer Kim Woo-hyung and every cut by editors Kim Ho-bin and Kim Sang-beom. This is another display of virtuoso filmmaking from a director who now seems incapable of anything less. Park has quite literally mastered his craft, and No Other Choice is compelling even when Mansu’s killing spree feels more silly than sinister.

It’s a terrible idea sure to end in tragedy, but as soon as it occurs to him he’s already decided to see it through.

To be fair, that is part of the point. Mansu is comically inept as a murderer, and there’s humor to be found in his literal inability to pull the trigger on his massively ill-advised scheme. There’s also sadness — not only for his victims, but also for the irreparable damage his crimes do to his own spirit.

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Several people say they had “no other choice” after making a difficult decision that results in others being hurt, beginning with the man who fires Mansu and later Mansu himself. Though oft repeated, it’s never true. Countless movies have reminded us that we always have a choice, usually hitting a much more encouraging note than any seen in this film. The choices we make define us far more than our job title or the house we live in. Unfortunately for Mansu and his victims — though admittedly less so for viewers of this pleasingly oddball film — he almost always chooses poorly.