It is a performances centric movie

Great Film overall

best movie i've ever seen.

As somebody who had not heard any of this before, it became a curious phenomenon to sit and watch a film and slowly have the realities begin to click into place.

The original, translated name of Geuddae geusaramdeul (aka: The President's Last Bang) is apparently 'those people, then.' The change, made for the English language market, unfortunately replaces a title significant to locals as the name of a particular song, played that fateful night by a singer invited to entertain the doomed presidential dinner party. The flippancy of the substitution is perhaps one reason why western critics have pointed up the black humour of Im Sang-soo's film so consistently. Formerly best known for light sex dramas such as Chunyudleui jeonyuksiksah (aka: Girl's Night Out, 1998) and Nunmul (aka: Tears, 2000), The President's Last Bang is the second in a trilogy of films dealing with the situation of South Korea from the 1970s to today and has proved to be, at least at home, the most controversial of Sang-soo's work. Apparently descendants and supporters of the dead president's party took exception to some documentary elements contained within the movie, which were duly cut from the initial Korean release as well as for some exports. (The UK version is complete.) Ironically, the director was also attacked by left wingers for creating a too-favourable portrait of a despised dictator. To such an extent, as the director attests in the interview which accompanies Last Bang on disc, that he was given a personal bodyguard after the premiere.Assuming much of the political background to Im Sang-soo's drama will be relatively new to them, UK viewers will find much less to get worked up about, and the film contains none of the censorable material which has occupied the BBFC in the films of Korean directors such as, say, Kim Ki-Duk. Having said that, whether its the presidential bodyguards coming without bullets, the KCIA chief dozing with a hole in his sock or the two noodle eaters overhearing the President's autopsy with open mouths, there's no denying the elements of black humour in Last Bang, even if such moments should not be made too much of. Ultimately it's a political drama we have here, the staging of which the director sees as influenced by such mafia-grounded Hollywood titles as Goodfellas and The Godfather. At the same time, as the director says, it attempts to "analyse the psychological burden" of the dark years of tyranny as well as "provide a funeral for the president and all he left behind." Chauvinistic and fascist, the memories of Chin-Lee's regime still pervade South Korea today. The director was able to base a good deal of his film on the notes of the detailed official enquiry following the incident at the Blue House. For other elements he used his imagination. He and his art director for instance did not hesitate to jettison the idea of an accurate representation of the Blue House as it was, in favour of something more aesthetically appealing. From this point of view Last Bang differs in its documentary feel from such related films as Downfall, a film where the claustrophobic, last days of a regime are also examined. But while President Chin-Lee is the centre of attention of the Korean film, his character and psychology is not explored in depth, apart from a revealing discussion over the weaknesses of western notions of democracy. Instead, Sang-Soo focuses a good deal on the KCIA chief and his main agent, and one is never quite sure between them where fact ends and director's fancy begins.Therein lies the film's weakness. Its in the lack of a convincing documentary feel, allied to characters at the drama's centre who may have been historically present and participant in unfolding events, but at best struggle to rise about the whimsical elements of their portraits (Ju's compulsive gum chewing for instance). At worst, the writing suggests little of the angst such a plot surely engendered - something which the recent Valkyrie managed for instance, with all its faults. Last Bang ends with a dispassionate voice-over, wrapping up the fate of those involved and some shots of the state funeral. At the end of Downfall, although we know or can guess the fate of many, we are critically involved learning what became of those present. Last Bang's closing narrative, curiously uninformative, leaves us mildly disinterested, even given our lack of local political knowledge.Having said that, Im Sang-Soo's film is reasonably absorbing throughout, and it pulls off some noteworthy moments - such as the Da Palma-esquire ceiling-high tracking shot, which travels slowly above rooms and various corpses. There's another long tracking shot, this time a horizontal flow through the Blue House, which arguably shows one influence of Goodfellas.

For those who enjoy political conspiracies, especially when laced with matter-of-fact coolness, blood pooling on the floors and enough confusion to make things believable, The President's Last Bang (Geuddae Geusaramdeul) is a fine, odd movie. Nearly all of the film is the story, more-or-less factual, of the last hours of the repressively authoritarian and corrupt Korean President Park Chun-hee, and then the maneuvering that followed. President Park, who seized power in a military coup in 1961, decides to have another of his increasingly frequent private dining evenings with one or two young girls, attended usually by his brutal and sycophantic chief bodyguard, his toadying chief secretary and his watchful head of the Korean Central Intelligence Agency, Kim Jae-Kyu. Fine food is prepared, liquor is poured generously, and the girls entertain and prepare themselves for private entertainment later with the president. We realize the KCIA Director Kim is slowly losing favor. The president makes suggestions to him with a smile or a frown. Kim's compatriots take their cue from the president and make slighting references to the work of the KCIA. Repression is the order of the day, and the KCIA, no pussycat organization as it is, is seen by President Park and his sycophants as not being repressive enough. At the same time Director Kim is losing patience with the president's preoccupation with pleasure. "Never make a big deal about what goes on below the belly button," one high-ranking official advises. The date is October 26, 1979. In the middle of this tipsy, unpleasant party, Director Kim excuses himself for a moment. He tells two trusted subordinates that tonight is the night. This is something they've thought about. Then he takes a revolver in his hand, returns to the party and puts a bullet into the chief bodyguard, then into the President. The lights go out and as Kim's men hear the gunfire, they shoot down most of the remaining bodyguards. Since his gun jammed, Kim takes another gun, returns to the party room, pulls up the president who is still alive and puts a second bullet into the man's head. Then he casually finishes off the groaning chief bodyguard. As his men restore order, Kim tries to gain the Army's support. It doesn't work. The last part of the movie tells us all about how disorderly the highest reaches of government were during the dark, early morning hours after the assassination. Then we learn about the fates of Director Kim and his men. All this is presented with such "I am a camera" directness that the mundane self-interest, the careful protocols of power, the casual corruption and pervasive cynicism of government at these high levels almost turns the movie into a black comedy. For those who believe their sausages are made under the most hygienic conditions and who trustingly never read the list of animal parts that make up the meat, this movie might seem just as foreign as the country it comes from. Unfortunately, no government has captured the market on incompetence, venality, self-interest and rear-end kissing. At first we begin to sympathize with Kim, and then we have to keep remembering the KCIA was just as full of thugs as every other group. Humiliation and beatings were, and may still be, the common currency to maintain discipline and authority. Kim gradually seems motivated more by resentment and irritation than any particular feelings about democracy. How on earth did some of these people achieve power...and then we realize the same question can be asked about all governments. The movie may be something of an oddity, but it's an engrossing one.

The English-release title "The President's Last Bang" may sound like an artless literal translation of the original Korean, but I'm informed by those who speak the ancestral language (thanks, Mom and Dad) that "Geuddae geusaramdeul" actually means "The People of That Time," or, more concisely, "Those People, Then." It's a title that resonates deeply for South Koreans: On the night of October 26, 1979, shortly before he was assassinated, President Park Chung-hee was being entertained at dinner by a young singer named Shim Soo-bong, who had made a splash in a college singing contest with a song called "Geuddae geusaram" - literally, "That Person, Then." Shim reportedly sang that song to Park that fateful night; as a result, both she and the song became inextricably linked to the Park killing. Hence the movie title, "Those People, Then."One of those "people then" was, of course, President Park, along with the director of the Korean Central Intelligence Agency, Kim Jae-kyu, who led the assassins and who personally shot the president (and ended up being executed for it). As portrayed in this film, KCIA Director Kim is pent up with rage and frustration; his liver is shot to hell, he feels his country is shot to hell, and he's convinced that the president and his chief bodyguard both deserve to be shot to hell as well. "The President's Last Bang" has been billed as a black comedy; some American reviewers have even likened it to Kubrick's "Dr. Strangelove," which kind of threw me. I would say, it's a very wry take on a deadly serious episode of recent Korean history. I suspect much of it comes across as absurd because the real-life events it was based on were so horrifyingly absurd.Deliberately, deliciously absurd moments abound, like the schoolchildren who refuse to stand still for the playing of the national anthem, but maybe some critics saw signs of comedy where none really exist (oh, those crazy Koreans!). For example, one reviewer was highly amused by what he saw as Kim's bungling when he supposedly runs out of bullets at the start of the assassination and must run outside to fetch another gun. Actually, Kim has plenty of bullets; it's just that his gun jammed. That's not ineptitude, just bad luck on his part.Although the main focus of the film is the president and the KCIA director, it's also worth noting characters like gum-chewing KCIA Chief Agent Ju, whose primary job consists of procuring young women for the president's personal entertainment; his disgust with the task, with the women who agree to be a party to it, and with himself is palpable. There's also Mr. Shim, the guesthouse caretaker who's as silent as a butler and seemingly privy to everything that's going on. There's the older woman who's seen at the beginning of the film, lodging a complaint about the way her daughter was treated by the president during a bedroom date; we hear her again at the end of the film, offering a sardonic post-assassination wrapup (shades of Costa-Gavras' "Z"). And then there are the two young women, brought together for the first time, who are destined to witness the assassination close-up; afterward, they end up lounging around in a side room, chatting like college roommates.From my peculiar American point of view, one wickedly fun moment is when Park and his top aides, chatting over dinner, start bad-mouthing not only the American ambassador to Seoul, but also then-U.S. President Jimmy Carter; such scenes crackle with a you-are-there authenticity. It's also morbidly fascinating to listen to the movie's Park Chung-hee rationalize his authoritarian rule by noting that he tolerates a certain degree of political opposition (there's a direct reference to Kim Young-sam, who was fated to become president himself years later).As for the president's "last bang," fans of the late President Park may actually admire the way he goes out in this film. He shows no fear; he meets his fate as the tough old bird he was reputed to be.A passing note: Whenever Korean subtitles appear, it's because the characters are speaking in Japanese (one of the fringe benefits of Japanese colonial rule being coerced bilingualism).Final thought: Could the fractured-English title "The President's Last Bang" be a deliberate Borat-like joke on the part of a Korean who speaks English all too well?

This film is supremely stylish throughout. It informs the viewer about the reputation of the regime, the political pressures from the USA, the fear of attack from the North and the desire to replicate Japan without ever patronising the viewer of shoving it down your throat.The lead performances, particularly that of the KCIA agents, are outstanding. The film exudes style in every shot, from the 'Blue House' as the quintessential VIP 'entertainment venue' to the military fatigues in the army HQ. The cars and suits demonstrate an appreciation of the kind of Hong Kong cinema Tarantino is so fond of plundering.The film's triumph is to never let you sympathise or detest one character too much, that ambiguity allows for the stock of characters to rise and fall as their motives become at the same time clearer and more misguided.Visually arresting with realistic and extreme violence the film is not for the faint hearted.