I'd been reading about Jennifer Jason Leigh after being reminded of her deathly-chilly brilliance in Dolores Claiborne and Mrs Parker and the Vicious Circle, and heard "Rush" described in glowing terms: a forgotten gem saved from Greg Allman-guest star hell by stellar performances and compelling trajectories of hard-boiled cop to burnt-out-case. What I saw was a parade of cheesy rock'n'blues bars, good ol'boys, sets and styles that woudn't be out of place in an uninspired episode of the Dukes of Hazzard, and sequences in which Leigh and waxy co-star Jason Patric were gasping in incredulity at their own responses to their own dialogue
The fatuous faux blues soundtrack by Eric Clapton, and wincingly pointless anal rape scene only served to reinforce the sense that this was a film hopelessly out of control of its reason for being, at a very early stage.
In thankfully stark contrast, "Bad Guy" is a film whose central character is simply too priapic, convulsed with rage and robotically motivated to be captured well with the scenes and encounters of a traditionally-appearing Korean gangster flick. However that there is a period in which the mute, controlling, dumbstruck, volcanic presence of Han-Gi, staring down from his container overlooking the street where the girls are working, powerfully conjures the very specific moment in the male psyche in which the libidinal satisfactions of total control and the recoiling horror of intimacy coincide.
Han-Gi's sidekicks are more than just shellsuited goons; their sudden infatuations, impulsive stabs at honourable acting-out, and fearful loyalty have an almost religious tone of observancy.
All of which goes to show that the more precise the central psychological moment, the more robust the rest of the film will be.
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