Filmmaker Kim Ki-duk, is widely known for his films that offer loads of violence. He has been Controversies favorite child. But, in his 2007 flick 'Soom' aka 'Breath', he tries his hand in an awkward, yet charming love-story, that hardly offers any bloodshed.'Soom' is about love, redemption, sadness & lies. The lead characters share an outstanding novelty, when-ever they meet eye to eye. It's a tale of a notorious condemned criminal & a housewife. The emotions they discover, the love that is build, comes out brilliantly, at most parts.The only shortcoming, is it's finale. It's weird, and leaves no impact. This 80-minute feature, offers 60-minutes of pure genius, but falters in it's final 20-minutes. Kim Ki-duk delivers as a filmmaker. He has directed the film with complete understanding. The Cinematography is striking. The performances by all of the actors, are memorable.On the whole, A film that is Worth-Watching, without a shed of doubt. It's so different, and so amusing at times, you can't help but like this attempt.

In commenting on Kim's (that is his surname) movies, I am aware of my limitation of not having seen "Spring, summer, fall, winter….and spring" (2003) which purported is his best film. "Samaria" (2004) I really like, seeing it as a depiction of polarization (in more ways than one) as well as a touching father-and-daughter story. "Bin-jip" (2004), unfortunately, I cannot bring myself to join the general chorus to praise. If found it unconvincing and shallow, "4 clever ideas adding up to a prank" as I put in my summary line."Breath" (or "Soom") I found to be a distant cousin of "Bin-jip" although more serious and less haphazard. Like any of Kim's movies, "Breath" has things enigmatic that seem to require explanation. But Kim is a director that had openly declared that he won't bother explaining his movies. Indeed, explanations are not even required.Shot with imaginative camera work and Kim's usual attention to details, this movie tells the story of how a woman whose marriage is on the rocks starts visiting a prisoner on death roll and gradually develops a subtle relationship with him. Her family life is however not entirely unbearable. Although it is unfortunate that her husband has an affair, he is not depicted as a particularly despicable character. He genuinely cares about their pre-teen daughter and reacts with restrained sense when he discovers his wife's strange routine. He even drives her to the prison on her final visit.The prisoner's story is grimmer. We are told that he is on death roll for murdering his own wife and children. He hardly ever speaks, his lifeless eyes seem always indicate a trance and his attempted suicide has led to advancing of his execution date. One of the three prisoners in the same cell, a young man (who doesn't speak either), harbors homosexual desires for him and becomes obviously jealous as the situation progresses.The audience, depending on the POV they place themselves, can see many different things in this movie: a threatened marriage salvaged by some bazaar action, absolution and reconciliation, unpredictable ways a relationship between two individuals can develop, mental anguish of a prisoner on death roll, absurdities in a prison cell – these are among the more obvious. Talking about POV, it is interesting to note that the key scenes that take place in the visiting cell are seen through the eyes of the security officer who monitors the close-circuit TV in the prison. We only see this character as a refection on the monitor. As director Kim's name in on the IMDb cast credit, I wonder if he is the one who plays this security officer. If it is indeed the case, is he consciously doing the M. Night Shyamalan thing?

In Dancer in The Dark, Lars von Trier told the story of a girl who could create such a vivid interior life that it could soar over any misfortune, even death. In Breath, Director Ki-duk Kim tells the story of a girl who tries to transfer a similarly strong vision to a condemned man on death row.What do you do to raise your spirits? Listen to a song? Walk through the countryside? Go on holiday somewhere nice? Take any of these things, and they are heightened if love and desire are added.When I was seventeen, I used to walk five miles every night. Just to hold my sweetheart's hand and kiss her goodnight. Even in winter, I felt as if I were walking on air. Sounds kinda stupid, looking back. Especially as it didn't last. But those miles disappeared in seconds.Breath opens unremarkably. Jang Jin is on death row and attempts suicide by sharpening a toothbrush and stabbing himself with it. (He's played by Chen Chang, the sexy outlaw suitor to Zhang Ziyi in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.) The incident makes the evening TV news.Yeon's husband is having an affair. He tells her to get out and meet people instead of staying at home making sculptures. On an impulse, she goes to visit Jang Jin. On a subsequent visit, she decorates the visiting room with blown-up pictures of spring, fills the area with artificial flowers, and sings to him. She wears a summer dress even though it is mid-winter. Yeon's poetry of life has a profound effect on Jang Jin. They fall passionately in love. But trouble brews from Jang Jin's jealous cellmates and Yeon's violent husband.When Breath started, I admit I found it less than engaging. But suddenly these scenes that Yeon constructs for Jang Jin explode with a powerful emotional force. Have you ever been on one of those simulator machines where you step in and it starts moving about, replicating sensations that match the screen in front of you? It's that sudden. One second you are watching an ordinary prison drama, interspersed with inconsequential domestic stuff. Then Wham! You are suddenly catapulted, knocked sideways, jolted out of your seat. And that, of course, is a pale reflection of the effect we realise it must be having on Jang Jin. We start living for these intense (yet emotionally draining) moments in the film, just as Jang Jin does.Throughout precisely architectured cinematography, Ki-duk Kim weaves a poetry of life and death. "We are already crazy inmates on death row. Until we can breathe no more." Contrasts between the two protagonists' lives outside the meeting room and what goes on inside are mirrored in verbal contrasts where one person will speak and the other stays mute. Breathing in and breathing out. Locked in a passionate kiss. Or holding one's breath underwater.Breath also has a bitter edge. Is she preparing him for the moment when he takes his last breath? (South Korea is one of the very few fully developed democracies where the death penalty is still allowed.) Don't expect any nice redemptive ending. Like Dancer in The Dark, Breath mostly gets darker. "Even though I call with sorrow, Only the white snow falls." It may also be too laboured – even artificial – for some audiences.Breath is an icy, chilling love story. It looks at a bond that goes beyond the simplicities of life and death. And it's as finely chiselled as a piece of sculpture. Some scenes contain a rare combination of animal intensity and poetic tenderness. The whole unfolds as a dazzling testament to the artistry of Ki-duk Kim.

This is the third film I have seen by Kim Ki-duk. Each one has been very different to the other, and I have loved them all. Address Unknown was bleak and emotionally challenging, Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter… and Spring was beautifully poetic, while Breath is hard to describe. It has aspects of the earlier films - it's visually poetic and bleak - but it's very different to both most notably for its surreal/absurdist devices combined with very black humour (slightly reminiscent of some of the work of Raúl Ruiz).Sparse dialogue makes for great intrigue as we attempt to make sense of the two main protagonists and what they have in common. One, a man on death row, the other a suburban mother who follows news of his exploits on the TV. To discuss how the story unfolds is to spoil the film if you haven't watched it. However, the story is so elusive, that even with the details, much remains unexplained, adding to the mystique of the film. The prisoner does not speak during the film and the mother does not speak to her family; she is on screen for about twenty minutes before we hear a word uttered from her mouth.There is a really competent and confident film-maker at work in Kim Ki-duk, and he's not afraid to experiment. Beautifully photographed in winter, the use of steel/blue tones indoors accentuates the sense of cold and contrasts some of the surreal aspects. The film is contemplative, giving one ample opportunity to appreciate the superb visual aesthetics and make sense of the narrative.I enjoyed this film immensely, and highly recommend it. It screened as part of the Melbourne International Film Festival, where Kim Ki-duk's films are always well-received.