Memories of Murder: A Modern Noir Masterpiece

During the black hole period between Christmas and New Year's where time is an illusion, I was searching for a film to watch to fill the time while cozied up on the couch. That’s when I spotted the neo-noir crime thriller Memories of Murder (2003), directed by the master Korean filmmaker Bong Joon-ho. I had already seen this film many years ago, and while I recognized that it was a great film, I don’t think I fully appreciate just how brilliant the film is.

This time around, I was barely a minute into the film and I was utterly entranced. I’m convinced now more than ever that this film is a true masterpiece and a must-see for every cinephile.

Not long after Memories of Murder premiered in May 2003, the film received critical acclaim and accolades in spades for its outstanding screenplay, masterful direction, exceptional performances, genre-fluid tone, spectacular editing, and extraordinary cinematography. The film was quickly added to the pantheon of cult classics and is a favourite among Bong Joon-ho’s already impressive repertoire, which includes the black comedy Barking Dogs Never Bite (2000), the monster film The Host (2006), his English-language debut action thriller Snowpiercer (2013), and more recently, the Academy-Award winning Parasite (2019). I will also add that if you’re in the mood to ugly cry like a small child and interested in what feels like a live-action Hayao Miyazaki movie, you should check out Okja (2017).

Memories of Murder is inspired by a series of real-life murders that went unsolved until 2019, and details from these murders actually found their way into the film itself. Memories of Murder follows local detectives Park Doo-man (played to perfection by the great Song Kang-ho) and flying kick-happy Cho Yong-koo (played by Kim Roi-ha), and big city detective Seo Tae-yoon (played with a dark and brooding benevolence by Kim Sang-kyung), as they investigate a string of sexual assaults and murders that take place in Hwaseong in the late 1980s. The police are constantly hampered in their investigation by constant infighting, as well as their own incompetence in dealing with a case of this magnitude. The film effortlessly blends in Bong Joon-ho’s brand of social commentary, presenting a microcosm of what life was like in Korea under an autocracy; a time of powerlessness of the people and where the government was more interested in suppressing dissident voices than supporting the local police to investigate a horrifying crime.

The film opens with a spectacular establishing shot of a massive field with tall grass, which is a great visual metaphor for the perfect hiding place for a snake. Park Doo-man, a local detective, rides on the back of a small tractor to the scene of a crime. When he arrives, he begins looking over the body of a poor murdered woman stashed in the waterway beneath the road. It’s clear very quickly that Doo-man isn’t exactly incompetent but he’s definitely inexperienced, especially for a case as disturbing and layered as this. The opening scene is a perfect thesis statement for the whole film; showing a humble, unsuspecting town where the murders are taking place and the state of the police's prowess, or lack thereof. Later, back in the precinct, an arrogant Doo-man brags to his superior that he can tell guilt by just looking into a suspect’s eyes as if he’s psychic.

After a second murder victim is found lying in an open field, the incompetence of the local police is on full display. A glorious and strangely hilarious extended oner follows the police as they fumble about the crime scene. Multiple cops tumble down a hill and land on their faces. A tractor destroys a footprint that could be a key piece of evidence. The locals are watching and taunting the police from a nearby hill. The investigators are struggling to coordinate everyone and act as if they’re waiting for a grown-up to arrive and take over. The police are simply not prepared to deal with this kind of case. The scene could easily have been awkward and incongruent with the tone of a noir film but Bong Joon-ho’s deft genre-blending style and directing rhythm has it working like a charm. This scene makes us feel as though we are ourselves characters in the scene watching characters that feel less like they were pulled from fiction but like we’re witnessing a real-life investigation gone awry.

This sequence is one of many that make this film an education in elevated filmmaking.

But the standout scene, in my opinion, occurs later in the film when the police are out at a karaoke bar. The tension is high after the arrival of the more educated and experienced Seoul detective, Seo Tae-yoon, who seems to undermine the local police with his more technical approach and policing instincts. In another oner, we watch as our characters sit around a table late into a night of drinking and karaoke. The chief of police is passed out drunk at the head of the table. It feels like a sarcastic Michelangelo painting. Park Doo-man taunts and harasses Seo Tae-yoon for his city-boy attitude, telling him that policing in the city is about using your brain but in small towns, it’s about using your feet. We slowly push in as Seo Tae-yoon refuses to take the bait and an agitated Park Doo-man finally snaps and grabs Tae-yoon by the scruff of the neck, preparing to throw a punch. At that moment, right as punches feel like they’re about to fly, the chief of police wakes up and vomits into a nearby bucket before yelling at them about their professionalism. It’s a beautifully hilarious punctuation to the scene. But as funny as it is, Bong Joon-ho isn’t just using humour to get a laugh out of us. It perfectly illustrates the characters’ inner turmoil and personal philosophies, which get tested relentlessly throughout the film.

And that brand of dark comedy permeates this whole film. Any fan of Bong Joon-ho will be acutely familiar with his unique ability to juggle and incorporate multiple seemingly disparate genres.

So while Memories of Murder is unquestionably a neo-noir detective film reminiscent of Zodiac, it’s also a brilliant black comedy that makes us laugh as much as white-knuckle the armrest of the couch. Heady dialogue about this disturbing case is delivered in strange and comedic settings. Park Doo-man discusses the case with his wife as she cleans wax out of his ears, and later they have a conversation about whether it’s time to move on while Doo-man is hooked up to an IV in the middle of an open field. Doo-man and Tae-yoon, when they’re at the end of their tether with the case as they hit a major dead end, come to an understanding of one another while resting their heads on the desk and looking into each other’s eyes.

These moments are laden throughout the film and make it such a compelling watch.

The darkness of this film’s sensibilities doesn’t end with its wry sense of humour either. The characters themselves become reflections of ourselves and each other. Throughout the film, Seo Tae-yoon, our plucky city slicker detective makes multiple comments about how documents don’t lie. It’s a sort of accountant's interpretation of the world where there are indisputable facts and laws of the universe that are above reproach. For his part, Park Doo-man, as mentioned, explains this quasi-mystic approach to detecting guilt by staring into the eyes of someone, as if peering into the truth of their soul. But in the end, when confronted with evidence that disputes their resolve, they struggle with their very nature and the film itself punishes their narrow-mindedness. Seo Tae-yoon holds in his hands a document that contradicts his staunchly held suspicion, and Park Doo-man can’t detect the truth in the eyes of their key suspect. It’s a brilliant confrontation that shows the depths of their resolve and presents a nuanced reality that isn’t as definitive as they believed.

Now, we can’t end this review without discussing the inspired final scene of the film; the perfect coda to a film riddled with mystery and vagaries. Many years after the case has gone cold, Park Doo-man has left the police force and is now a travelling salesman. He’s put his life of policing behind him but is still haunted by the case that got away. When passing the original scene of the crime from the beginning of the film, he decides to take another look. Maybe he missed something. Maybe the answers were there all along and he can finally rest, knowing he caught his man. He meets a young girl who tells him that another man came by that place before him and made a cryptic comment about how he had done something there many years ago. The killer, like Doo-man, had returned to the scene of the crime. With a harrowing look on Doo-man’s face, he stares directly into the camera, once again trying to uncover the guilty within the audience. Maybe, just maybe, this time he’ll see the killer and give justice to the victims and closure to himself.

Fade to black.

Much like 2007’s Zodiac by David Fincher, which borrows from and owes a lot to Memories of Murder and is likewise based on real-life serial murders, the film leaves us with a vague and ambiguous ending. Were we right and did we actually find out who the killer was? Or was it someone else entirely different and the mystery continues? And just like Zodiac, which also deftly tackles ambiguity, we’re still left feeling a strange kind of satisfaction despite being denied a satisfying ending. This deliberate choice fills us with a collective frustration that mirrors the real-life case that went unresolved for so long.

Memories of Murder is a genuine masterpiece of neo-noir storytelling and a masterclass in suspenseful filmmaking. It deftly presents ambiguity not as a flaw but as reality.

Sometimes the world isn’t black and white but shades of grey.

Sometimes it is serious and sometimes it’s funny and ironic.

And sometimes the bad guy gets away.

That’s life, and we have to find a way to live with it.

I would recommend this film to absolutely everyone. It’s hard not to notice the indelible impact this film has had on cinema since its release in 2003, and it’s clear why. Its story, characters, pacing, and themes make it the perfect well of inspiration for aspiring filmmakers and it’s easy to see why everyone’s favourite filmmaking wild man Quentin Tarantino named it one of his Top 20 films since 1992.

Why 1992? Don’t ask me, I’m just quoting the guy.

Now, as always with me, this only scratches the surface of everything to love about this film. Hell, I didn’t even dig into the exceptional cinematography, impeccable score, or unbelievable editing. Or discuss just how Bong Joon-ho uses the darkness to evoke the idea of the abyss, a space that sits unapologetically as it consumes and envelopes us. There’s so much more to this film than I could possibly capture in this single review.

So if you haven’t seen Memories of Murder, check it out immediately. It’s one of those films that sticks with you long after the credits roll, and may or may not make you wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat.

Have you seen it? What are your thoughts?