Soyoung Choi's dance film, “Bang” tides us through an internal journey of suppression and revolt. Sprawled and encased in a glass tank, a woman, played by Choi herself, explores the parameters of her body. Unknown and hostile forces surround and watch her, pelting paint and food as she curiously attempts to escape.
“Bang” is screening at Busan International Short Film Festival
It is indeed tempting to surmise “Bang”'s concerns under common ideological camps of young female artists. It would be too convenient to interpret Choi's entrapment as the collective suppression and sexualization of women, by desensitized voices of larger society, of the unrelenting gaze (though it's hard not to think of The Bell Jar here). One would also make the case that “Bang” prods at a more general conflict of being trapped by our own humanity. But in its most indifferent form, this work dishes out as little as possible, and resists meaning-making to no end. Across 16 minutes, nothing is expounded further than needed. And as whole, we are left as emotionally confused and agitated as the images flashing on screen. In this case, however, we try to welcome the mystery.
“Bang” falls off the deep end of abstract filmmaking, into a whirlpool of skin crawling sensations. This is a film to sidle up against, instead of sternly decipher. Mostly hinging on Choi's dance, we witness a purposefully loose assemblage of movements, painting the human as an animal of raw instinct. Tensions are driven to sharp points as we see her being fed, like farm cattle, through a tiny hole drilled into the glass. As the torture goes on, the tank becomes covered in smears of chocolate, hot pink paint, strips of lettuce and piles of black olives. But betraying no sentiments, Choi seems to convey that nothing her character does is premeditated. She acts as directed by the sounds and environment around her: fragments of computerized voice overs, industrial noise and EDM. She mingles with her prison just as a child might explore a playground, toying with the glass' texture, running her hands across to make new sounds. Undoubtedly, there is something unnerving about a creature who becomes oblivious to its chains.
‘The Moments When Anxiety Returns' titles the programme of Korean shorts at Busan International Shorts Film Festival (BISFF) where “Bang” will enjoy its world premiere. Most definitely befitting, Choi's effort offers a glimpse into meditations of the turmoiled self, that will hopefully grow into a larger practice. With luck, we might see more of her in years to come.
