diana pressey

I know I’m in good company when I say I’ve been mystified by Parasite since I saw it. It’s stuck with me for months and will continue to haunt me for years. Parasite is one of my new favorite films — and not because it’s a pleasant viewing experience.

Sure, the first half of it is brimming with dark humor, but that alone doesn’t make for a powerful film. Even its social commentary and tonal shift into a tense thriller aren’t enough to make the first foreign film to win Best Picture (and 3 other accolades) at the Oscars. In my opinion, Parasite’s brilliance doesn’t come from its genre fusion, exceptional acting, witty script, gorgeous cinematography, or unique setup — though these all help.

To me, the genius of Parasite is in the way these aspects are conveyed, especially through repeated themes and visual motifs throughout the movie. I was so focused on these details, it took me a few hours post-film to recognize and process the primary metaphor of living underground as a visual metaphor for the lower classes literally being beneath the upper. I’m not proud of this, but I was too busy noting all of the symbols below that elevated Parasite from an exceptional film to a breathtaking phenomenon.

Don’t read this if you haven’t seen it already. I mean it. Parasite is an experience — one that I’m about to ruin by revealing major plot twists as I analyze. And you’re not going to know what I’m talking about unless you’ve already watched. This is your final warning.

You probably didn’t actually miss any of these. I confess guilty to the crime of clickbait.

1. “The line”

Wealthy boss Mr. Park comments about wanting his servants to avoid “crossing the line.” Ostensibly, he means his privacy, but he really means the line that divides classes. He doesn’t want those he hires to step outside their designated social roles. Instead, they should remain subservient, speaking only when spoken to. There’s even a visual representation of this. I’ll let this Tumblr post explain it for me. Screenshots below:

2. Idolatry of the rich by the poor

Not really a symbol, just a mirror of reality. Geun-sae — the man who has been living in the Park’s basement — keeps a shrine to Mr. Park and shouts, “RESPECT!” to him even, as he lays dying at his feet. There’s an American parallel here: low-income support the obscenely wealthy more than you might think they would. Those who suffer the most at the feet of billionaires tend to be those who scramble to defend Jeff Bezos on social media, or vote for Donald Trump as a relatable, populist president despite the fact that the amount of money he has can hardly even be conceptualized. This social commentary may have been written with Korean audiences in mind, but it resonates everywhere.

3. “That smell” and dehumanization of the poor

I doubt anyone actually missed this, but it was so powerful, I have to talk about it. About halfway through Parasite, the Parks go on a camping trip and turn around because of the rain. Naturally, the Kims party in their empty house. When the Parks return, the Kims scatter to make the house presentable within the eight minutes it’ll take for them to get home. They end up having to scurry on their hands and knees, Mr. Kim at one point even dragging himself along on his stomach, to hide under a table and overhear Mr. and Mrs. Park talking about them. 

At this point, Bong starts employing more than just visuals to demonstrate the class contrast. Mr. Park complains that the Kims have a distinct smell to them and compares them to cockroaches. They hear every word.

That dehumanizing smell comment is later his demise. When Geun-sae escapes and stabs Mr. Kim’s daughter (like I said, won’t make sense unless you’ve watched), Mr. Park’s son begins having a seizure. Without a second glance at the girl dying in front of him, Mr. Park demands that Mr. Kim drive him and his son to the hospital. Mr. Kim freezes, his daughter bleeding out in his arms. Stunned, he throws him the car keys. In slow motion, Geun-sae lands on them after being stabbed by Mrs. Kim. Mr. Park goes to grab the keys, and flinches. His nose wrinkles. He makes a face and holds his nose. This is the final straw for Mr. Kim, who is reminded of the fact that he will always be considered subhuman to Mr. Park. In a fit of painful rage, he stabs and kills him.

When people are deprived of human decency and dignity, they are more likely to act as if they do not have either. Treat someone as if they aren’t a person, and they’ll be more likely to react in a way that is base and animalistic. It’s simple.

4. Juxtaposition (esp. in the flooding scene)

Okay, there’s no way anyone missed this one. Class contrast and conflict are major overarching themes of this story, but the latter remains dormant until the climax. In the rising action, contrast takes the full spotlight. 

While the Parks’ house is spacious, the Kims’ is tiny and cramped, with their toilet sitting atop a counter. The Kims always eat junk food crowded around a small table, while the Parks eat fruit and expensive sirloin in separate rooms. The Kims fight to survive while the Parks revel in luxury. In no scene is this more evident than the flooding scene, in which the Kims’ tiny basement quarters are flooded completely with sewer water and they literally have to swim through shit. The next day, Mrs. Park remarks how lovely the weather is as she plans for an impromptu party, stating, “The rain cleared the pollution away.” 

The flooding scene made me feel physically ill and reminded me of a quote from earlier in the film, when Ki-woo, the son in the poor family, comments on how nice Mrs. Park is. His sister replies, “Of course she’s nice. She’s rich.” It is easy to be kind when you aren’t swimming through shit.

5. Suseok, or the Scholar’s Stone

Again, no one missed this. Ki-woo gives it to us straight by calling it metaphorical in the film. However, interpretations on its significance vary greatly. There are many theories.

My favorite is the hollow rock theory. Note how it floats in the flooding scene. Rocks can’t float, so this must mean the suseok is counterfeit in some way. or possibly hollow. Later, it’s used to bash Ki-woo’s head in, but doesn’t kill him, which I believe backs up the hollow rock theory. To me, it represents the folly of hope in this context — especially because it sinks in Ki-woo’s dream sequence near the end, in which he envisions rising the ranks to a position of wealth that will allow him to free his father, who has replaced Geun-Sae hiding in the basement. 

But there’s no way this will happen. Ki-woo is not only poor, but also has a criminal record. He will always be stuck at the bottom of the totem pole. Bong makes that clear with the final shot, which just so happens to be the same as the first:

“Maybe if the movie ended where they hug and fades out, the audience can imagine, ‘Oh, it’s impossible to buy that house,’ but the camera goes down to that half-basement,” he says. “It’s quite cruel and sad, but I thought it was being real and honest with the audience. You know and I know — we all know that this kid isn’t going to be able to buy that house. I just felt that frankness was right for the film, even though it’s sad.”

By the end of Parasite, the family’s socioeconomic status hasn’t improved (in fact, they’ve sunk even lower). And it likely never will.