"Director Won takes a refreshingly different approach to what could have been a standard tale of city folks menaced by crazy bumpkins, mainly in that he serves up an off-key set of characters, none of whom really fit into the traditional roles viewers are used to. The film does not feature an obvious protagonist, or even an anti-hero, and although some of the characters are more vicious than others, it gradually becomes clear that all are victims in one way or another. Despite this, the characters are well drawn, and the viewer learns about them through a series of revelations which unfold in a surprising, though believable manner.

None of the relationships in the film are straightforward, with some of them emerging as being very twisted, and through this, Won ventures into some fairly complex moral territory, and explores the effects of institutions such as the army. The film is chiefly concerned with themes of bullying, which it actually deals with in quite a subtle manner and on several levels, dealing with both the aggressors and victims in a fluid way which eschews stereotyping or easy answers. The lines between right and wrong are not so much blurred as thrown out of the window, as the characters gradually become more and more animalistic, yet at the same time, somehow more human, giving the proceedings an almost tragic feel."

A Bloody Aria is a disturbing look into the ongoing cycle of violence and bullying in Korea. It has no hero or even anti-hero, only protagonists and victims often one in the same. The story begins with a professor driving with a former student taking her to a remote destination with malintentions. A chain of events come into play bringing forth several other "country folk" characters that will lead to a tension filled explosion of violence linked to bullying and institutions such as the military.

The film is primarily a bleak revenge flick with offbeat characters and dark humor. The director conveys his views on violence in Korea through bullying and the circle that evolves from it. Filmed primarily in one location the story is still engaging for the simple fact you have no idea how these characters are going to react next. However, the film seems to think it's a little more clever than it is involving the twists that come into fruition. I figured one major twist out within the first 15 minutes of the film and the other large twist was hard to believe or at least hard to believably comprehend the character's actions and emotions. Some of the subplots such as the rat poison and introduction of a gun fall flat. I enjoyed the film despite its flaws and look forward to what this director brings next.

One might think that soon a time will come for Asian cinema to reassess its trademark Extreme label. Or that a new approximation of this quality will emerge on the receiving it, critical end. A Bloody Aria is not yet at this stage, it applies violence with straightforward honesty and typical for the Korean cinema consideration of social themes. And it never really discusses implications that emerge.

It basks in social relevance that sadly remains restricted to its Korean context. And despite handling some more general themes- cyclical violence, bullying etc. it never unveils itself as a film with a broader appeal. Most likely then, it will connect with enthusiasts of the Korean cinema that will find some stimuli in observing how portrayal of youth degenerated since seminal Attack the Gas Station (Kim Sang-Jin, 1999). This particular film makes for a disturbing comparison of how the violence has escalated in Korea's national cinema, to accommodate both the expectations of the market and relevant changes in the society.

To equal extent A Bloody Aria can be dissected together with British Eden Lake (Watkins, 2008) or French They (Moreau, Palud, 2006). It emerges as a film less entertaining and more restrained but ultimately more wholeheartedly committed to the comment it makes. Tempo is interrupted by lengthy conversations that intentionally build up the threat but ultimately fail to do so. No sustained suspense ever emerges, consumed by the ambiguity of the film's villains. It collapses as a thriller as it struggles to maintain its, overriding genre schematics, devotion to keen observation of the intensifying power struggle. It consistently reminds the audience to look past the physical facades and our expectations build upon impeccable acting of the entire cast.

Unfortunately, unlike many Korean efforts from the recent past Won Shin-yeon's film fails to captivate the audience with any particular sense of style. Mobile, quasi documentary camera is dull and where one would expect some visual flair it serves images that are unimpressive and (perhaps deliberately) annoyingly overexposed. Disconnection of imagery, themes and musical inclinations contained in the title are disappointing since more grounded sense of style could reward the audience for awkward pacing.

Verdict: Korean Funny Games it isn't. Neither is it a particularly explicit example of Asian extreme. It's a slow burning amalgam of familiar social and cinematic motifs that manages however to radiate with some unique identity. Not as relevant outside of its national targets of critique it is still interesting to watch for Won Shin-yeon's own take on material recognizable from both Haneke and realist horror in the spirit of Deliverance.