Things have been pretty strange lately for Dong-hwan (Park Jeong-min). After a lifetime of ᴀssuming his mother had abandoned him in childhood, her carcᴀss suddenly gets excavated from deep within the mountains, revealing a potentially violent death some 40 years prior. Buried with her bones is an old work badge from her time spent at a garment factory, and a cascade of questions Dong-hwan may not want answered.
As its name might imply, The Uglyis a nihilistic and frequently mean-spirited investigative thriller. Written and directed by Train to Busan filmmaker Yeon Sang-ho, its central mystery wraps around the purported hideousness of Dong-hwan’s deceased mother, Jung Young-hee (Shin Hyun-been, who is only ever shown from behind or else through the curtain of her bangs, thus never being revealed to us). That hook is especially cruel and absurd; it inadvertently paves the path for comedy where danger is the intent, especially in the no-doubt clunky translation of Young-hee’s pejorative nickname, “Dung Ogre.”
The timing of his mother’s reveal is rough for Dong-hwa, to say the least. He has been in the process of facilitating a documentary on his father, Lim Yeong-gyu (Kwon Hae-hyo), a renowned stamp engraving artist who happens to be visually impaired. A man of delicate temperament whose mere presence has been labeled a “living miracle,” Yeong-gyu is game for the acknowledgment of the press but annoyed at the treatment of producer Kim Su-jin (Han Ji-hyeon), whose approach towards her subject borders on condescension.
At the 40-year belated funeral for Young-hee, Dong-hwan and Yeong-gyu are confronted by her long-estranged sisters, whose antagonism reaches a fever pitch over the question of inheritance. And Su-jin, who sees an opportunity for a juicier piece, reforms the intended fluff piece into a mystery box missing persons investigation.
The Ugly Is Atmospherically Haunting Yet Narratively Frustrating
In its atmosphere and characterizations, Sang-ho has crafted a compelling yarn. But the film is constrained by its own methods. Crafted as reportage and told in five chapters (plus an epilogue), The Ugly is relayed mostly in flashback, with Jeong-min playing the younger version of his father. The approach causes a habitual pace-slowing that inhibits the film’s staying power. Understandably so; The Ugly‘s back-and-forth nature is intentionally meant to mirror its central question. What, if anything, of our familial past is pᴀssed down to younger generations, and is violence learned or inherited?
In those flashbacks, Young-hee is revealed as kind-hearted and well-intentioned, but relentlessly belittled and teased by a patriarchal system that is designed to punish those who call out abuse rather than the ones who do the abusing. Having been cast out of her childhood family for revealing her father’s infidelity, Young-hee meets Yeong-gyu in the midst of being the one employee brave enough to dox her boss’s persistent Sєxual abuse.
Though not a traditional horror in the manner that fans of Sang-ho’s past work may expect, The Ugly is, well, distinctly ugly. Its cinematography is clad in sepia tones and textured interiors of varying levels of decrepitude. When Su-jin’s investigation turns to Baek (Im Sung-jae), Young-hee’s predatory boss, the film takes a seedy turn towards the appreciably gross. It’s just frustrating that that road is paved with molᴀsses.
Perhaps even more haunting than Baek’s Sєxual predilections is the suggestion that the past, no matter how nasty or evil, can indeed be buried with enough elbow grease. Though The Ugly‘s ending is frustratingly telegraphed from very early on, Sang-ho does leave us with a terrifying truth: that, sometimes, evil is hereditary.
