THE GHOST SCHOOL TRILOGY

Made in 1998 before the Asian invasion of spectral long-haired ghosts and cursed videotapes were all the rage of the Hollywood remake machine, a little, independently made Korean film crept onto the cinematic scene to inspire a poetic and emotionally harsh series devoted to peeling back the raw exterior of everyday reality. Whispering Corridors revelled in the traditional ghostly tale while modernizing it to better reflect contemporary sensibilities, particularly the challenges and abuse of school-aged children. Utilizing the symbols of folklore and the structure of the classical ghost story, this macabre marriage of occult terror and psychological tension made the cosmic fears of death, alienation, and loss intimate by grounding the unbelievable in the midst of the everyday, namely the routine and emotional stress of school environments.

Evoking horror with a whisper, titillating with implied terror rather than crass shocks, The Ghost School Trilogy (comprised of Whispering Corridors, Momento Mori, and Wishing Stairs) was a much needed tonic in an age where violent death and gore had largely replaced suspense and intelligence in horror cinema, and helped usher in a new reverence for traditional story telling, suggesting that supernatural themes were still relevant to audiences, and that -- gasp! -- characterization and atmosphere could give rubber monsters and squirting arteries a run for their money. Tartan Asia Extreme has collected these three influential films in one attractive package, including the original supplements for each title along with a fourth disc that dives into the cultural, emotional, and genre context of this dark, fascinating world.

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Whispering Corridors delivers disturbing scares and compassion amidst a socially relevant backdrop of cultural pressure and the all-too-common miseries of adolescence. A poetic and emotionally scathing bastard child residing somewhere between contemporary melodrama and the atmospheric tradition of the classic ghost story, this vivisection of scholastic agony and introspective characterization is unfailingly entertaining and as rooted in the intimate tragedies of everyday living as it is in the fantastical.

The setting: Jookran High School, with a staff which demands its students sacrifice personal happiness for academic success and conformity. Beneath its mock respectability and electric-lit world of manners, corrupted social politics makes the lives of charges hell. Locked in a struggle of power and soul crushing alienation, the children are ghosts of themselves, haunted by futures that will never materialize thanks to intolerance. This film captures beautifully the struggle between institutions and the individual. More importantly, these external conflicts -- mirroring the battles that each of us at one time or another have endured -- add resonance to the darker secrets hidden beneath the school's appearance of moral order. A malignant past whispers secrets of guilt, crime, and culpability, coating everyone in its wake.

Following the structure of ghost fiction, wherein horrid mysteries of the past are responsible for crippling the future, the plot's dark heart is located in the sins of history. This story is especially effective as a statement of how the malignant, unforgiving past refuses to stay buried, and the power which it extols over largely innocent children. Like fate, time is treated as an almost a physical force, not simply a scientific concept. Guilt, too, is examined, as occult materializations provoke disturbing quests for self discovery. When Mrs. Park, the teacher of room 3-3 (known as "Old Fox") is found hanging in the school's overpass, an outbreak of suspicion and fear results, heightened by the tyranny of a system that forces its students to ignore their anxieties. Three girls in particular confront the darkness: Shy Youn Jae-yi (Choi Se-yeon), outgoing artist Lim Ji-oh (Kim Gyu-ri), and lonely outsider Kim Jung-sook (Jun Ji-hye). As Ji-oh's supernatural sensitivity convinces her to contact the other side, she becomes a target for Mr.Oh (known as Mad Dog), who happens to have a fondness for young girls. Meanwhile, the arrival of Eun-young, a new teacher, sparks a private investigation into the school's dark past, which involves her deceased friend Jin-ju. The focus of the story shifts into more occult territory as Eun-young notices some of her dead friend's traits in the other students . . .

Translated as "High School Ghost Story," this occult thriller is significant as both a powerful retelling of ancient occult traditions and as a socially conscious criticism of abused authority. Framing this dark kernel amidst the politically charged context of a girl's high school, the story combines folklore with the contemporary anxieties of school-life, guaranteeing the interest of adolescents. The story, style of direction, and palpable atmosphere are also engaging enough to draw the interest of older audiences as well.

Attracting controversy when it was released, the depiction of a female school filled with sexual abuse and neglect is every bit as disturbing as the supernatural terror. Working on a social-political level, this movie is a slice of elegant exploitation, combining moodily photographed terrors with such introspective themes as self sacrifice and the nature of friendship. A taunt script and fine performances lend a bleak undertone that remains long after the conflicts are solved. Director Park Ki-Hyung's first feature is social criticism energized with cultural shame, moral outrage, and occultism. Thankfully, the moralistic themes are integrated smoothly into plot points, preferring to lend weight to the scares instead of replacing them.

Tartan offers this Ki-Yung Park production in its original 1.78:1 aspect ratio (enhanced for 16x9). Image clarity is proficient if not as clean as other Tartan films, occasionally grainy with soft images. DTS and 5.1 Dolby Digital audio tracks are clear and crisp, evenly distributing score and effects. Optional English and Spanish subtitles are included. A Still Gallery and Trailers are the only extras, which is shame considering the film's quality.

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The follow-up to Whispering Corridors, Memento Mori was released in 1999. A sequel in general tone and theme if not in direct progression of storyline, Memento Mori (Yeogo Goedam 2) is interesting for its different stylistic take on similar issues of social prejudice. As both a shocker capable of raising goose bumps and as a psychologically mature drama, the story achieves its own identity, boasting a unique voice and non-traditional approach to the horrific, grounded deeper in the reality of emotional bonds than in the crass horrors permeating much Asian horror. The most obvious differences are found in the story itself. Wherein Whispering Corridors opted to depict an inhumane Korean school system devoted to the abuse of authority as both its atmospheric setting and as a central plot-line, Directors Kim Tae-yong and Min Kyu-dong here interweave their occult nightmares within the context of a teenage lesbian relationship.

A major thematic characteristic of this film, and its most shattering, is the unreasoning hatred that such relationships provoke among the status quo. This is embodied in the cultural mechanisms of the academic world, and reflected intimately in the behaviours of the students and staff, whose malicious intent towards two young female lovers mirror the foreshadowed supernatural anger of the dead towards the living. Exploiting the fear that a large section of Korean society has concerning homosexuality, the directors take a cue from the late great Rod Serling of Twilight Zone fame and wrap essential social criticism in the symbolic language of the fantastic. Not simply a ghost story, this fable also manages to be a tender, emotionally provocative romance between two young girls entering the delirious borders of sexuality. Just as important as the surprisingly mature story is the subtle and stylish manner in which both directors shape their material, imbedding the terrors of shadows and guilt in the deepest boils of everyday prejudice, pain, and self conflict. Every nuance of story hinges on the ultimately destructive friendship, lending this shriek show the permanence of a classical Greek tragedy. The social drama of characters, and the haunting details of the ghostly, are achieved through suggestion. Elements of both the uncanny and earthy work together, forming a vortex of suspense and empathy.

The plot, while not as satiric as the first entry, is more successful as an exploration of individual characters, particularly in its sensitive handling of such a complex, culturally taboo relationship. Not a simple exploitation film by any means, the plot features Min-ah (Min-sun Kim), who accidentally discovers the secret journal of two of her classmates. She discovers that Shi-eun (Young-jin Lee), a girl in her class, has romantic feelings for Hyo-shin (Yeh-jin Park), a senior student. The crux of the action is revealed through the narrative device of the aforementioned diary, which follows the development of the lesbian relationship. When the affair sours, and one of the girls commits suicide, Min-ah finds herself haunted by both an internal sense of guilt and the girls' spectre. As supernatural manifestations begin to plague the school, Min-ah races to uncover the mystery surrounding the girl's death. A mystery upon which her life and sanity may hang, if not her very soul.

Whereas Whispering Corridors revealed its secrets through flashbacks, Memento Mori defies the traditional insistence on linier plot development. Told in a non-sequential manner, the fragmented form mirrors the confusion and internal chaos of the story, particularly the confused passion and heartbreak of love. This furthers our feelings of isolation and tension. The ghost story aspect is less pronounced than the pain of the girls. Belonging neither to the realm of the supernatural nor the geography of everyday banality, this film occupies a place in between. Believable acting, bizarre imagery, and dreamlike pacing establish atmosphere mood with striking authority. Layering the supernatural with starkly realistic social situations, scenes pregnant with gothic inspired sensibility are lent needed believability by the recognizable conflicts between parental authority and children, as well as the intolerance of one's peers. Whereas traditional supernatural stories first establish a context of everyday reality which invites audience to suspend disbelief, inviting empathy with characters before allowing occult elements to subtly intrude, Memento Mori subverts the nature of 'reality' from within.

Memento Mori is at its finest a dissection of emotional stability and an exposure of the unceasing conflict between cultures and gender. Darkly beautiful and, at times, painful to watch, the film embraces the very essence of tragedy, following its starkly painful threads to a haunting conclusion that comes across as unavoidable and organic rather than strained. Focusing on the lost and the desperate, these recognizable outcasts are as victimized by self-doubt and betrayals as they are tormented by the unknown. And what is any emotional attachment, if not a leap into the abyss? Of more interest to the ghost story fan is the film's glimpses of a lurking Otherworld which makes itself known through extensions of everyday stress.

As effective as the supernatural tension is, particularly in scenes where it intrudes without immediate notice, lingering like shadows, the real danger in this film -- and certainly the most effective -- is Love. Stripped down of its mock positivism, this emotion is revealed as a deadly power capable of sucking the life out of heart and soul. Love is as frightening as any of the supernatural manifestations, and twice as cruel. It is certainly the principle threat to these young women, revealed as a bleeding gash in the psyche, propelling each character to act. Overpowering, deadly, and, in the end, unconquerable, love haunts these characters with frightening malignance. This sore spot of the in-human condition, and the serious treatment it receives in the shattering script, is only surpassed by the cruelty of the school setting.

Memento Mori is captured in 1.78:1 with clearly defined background and foregrounds, lush colors, and proper skin tones. Clarity is the word here, mirrored in the quality of the Audio, which is available in either Dolby Digital or DTS 5.1. The dialogue is clear, distinct from the evocative soundtrack. Extras are disappointingly scant for such a provocative feature. These consist of a routine "Behind-the-Scenes featurette and trailers for other recent Tartan Asia Extreme titles. Thankfully the film is such an intelligent and atmospheric ballet of tragic supernatural revenge, that you won't lament the lack of extras for long.

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Wishing Stairs, the third chapter of the "School Girl Trilogy,' continues examining the otherworldly within a deeply personal context, emphasizing particularly the strain that competition places on friendship and morality. An intelligent fable of subtle occult conflict, menacing magic, and supernatural folklore, this admittedly hormonal horror movie merges oral superstition with peer pressure in a manner surprisingly meaningful. If occasionally uneven and not as emotionally challenging as its two templates, the story is nevertheless worthwhile as a superior spook show and as serious cinema. More importantly, the creators up the horror ante, inserting supernormal dread in every frame possible perhaps to compensate for Memento Mori's dependence on melodrama. In a story that challenges concepts of 'normal' existence and standard perception, Wishing Stairs appeals to the over-emotional hysterics of adolescent culture while satisfying the more sophisticated narrative demands evoked by its predecessors.

Again supernatural horrors are lent further resonance and occasionally outshone by cruelty and isolationism. While the other two films in the series dealt with abusive teachers, taboo relationships, and ghosts responding to guilt, this entry is more concerned with the destructiveness of competition. Visually, the film combines beatific imagery with gothic lighting, capturing with elegance the basic premise. Layering effectively placed supernatural jolts within the conflicts of school girls, the fantastical is lent enough believability to suspend our disbelief.

It is whispered in school that if one walks up the stairs outside the girls' dormitory, counting each of 28 steps, on occasion a spectral 29th step will appear. If you ask 'the fox' to grant your deepest wish, it may come true. However, just as is often the case in all traditional folk mythology, tampering with fate invites dangerous consequences, and the very thing you want most may be the source of your darkest nightmares -- something that the sympathetically played Jin-sung wouldn't normally believe. Told this urban legend by Hae-ju (An Jo), an ostracized overweight girl, Jin-sung casts away loyalty for personal glory. Competing with her friend So-hee over a ballet audition, and tired of being second best, Jin-sung determines to use the stairs as a means of coming out on top. She tells the Fox Spirit: "Let me go to the competition." Listening to the heart behind the words rather than the words themselves, this spirit gives Jin-sung gets exactly what she wanted (but had neither the honesty or daring to admit). When her friend soon dies, Jin-sung's world turns upside down, bathed in a nightmarish shadow of self-doubt and guilt. Because these characters are treated as real people with believable motivations, both the tragedy and horror hit home.

Combining the traditional, cosmic archetypes of folklore with relevant social issues, the filmmakers behind Wishing Stairs offer a story that succeeds on both a literal and allegorical level. Finding new faces for timeless fears, it operates on a stealthy dream logic and achieves unease. Characterization is stressed throughout, and the plot toys with such philosophically sophisticated concepts as time, space, and perception, changing the rules just when we think we've discovered the fundamental elements which energize this story of Karma. Wishing Stairs is intelligent terror of the highest order.

Tartan's Asia Extreme treats Wishing Stairs with care and respect. Images sport no noticeable grain, while depth is accurately conveyed in backgrounds; colors are rich and bright, and the subtitles read like honest dialogue, not the fragmented speech we so often find. Extras include a "making of" featurette, interviews with cast and crew, still galleries, and the expected slew of trailers.

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As effective as all three films are, this set will be a tough sell as a double dip. To compensate, Tartan has issued a third bonus disc filled with supplementary material regarding the creators, environment, and stories of Memento Mori and Wishing Stairs, featured into two sections respectively. Besides a Theatrical Trailer, Memento Mori features "Storyboards vs. Movie Featurette," an enjoyable if lean comparison between the original vision of the artists with what made it to celluloid. Less interesting is "Nyo-Shin and Shi-Eun's Rehearsal Footage", which is self explanatory. The "Behind the Scenes" section is one of those frustrating melting pots of disassociated footage patched together without unifying structure. While some moments of crew and cast interacting are entertaining, understand that this resembles a jumbled together home movie. "Interviews with Kin Tae-Yong & Min Kyu-Dong" is the most in depth and professionally produced segment on the disc, as both men reveal everything you could possibly want to know about the making of their movie. Various themes are dissected with candour, revolving around the inception, evolution, casting, and filming of the production. Special emphasis is placed on the story construction and thematic significance of the female character's love affair, and the pains these filmmakers took to underscore the subtle supernatural elements with tragic human behaviour. Divided into several neatly structured topics, the interview focuses on such elements as "Story and Character," "Theme," "Hyo-Shin," "Mystery," "Famous Last Words," etc. The more interesting facts revolve around the influence of folklore, abstract ideas of death, and the film's unique handling of space and time. This is a meaty, insightful feature, minutely detailed.

The extras for Wishing Stairs are just as extensive, although with a greater emphasis on the technical aspects of movie making. A handful of "Deleted Scenes" is interesting but adds no significant characterization or story elements. This is followed by a look at "Storyboards" detailing scenes. "Set and Prop Production" is more instructive, comparing film footage with how the effects were created, detailing the creation of the spooky dolls and the carnivorous plant, and revealing how several minor effects were crafted on set. The most revealing piece is "Interview with the Screenwriter," which reveals the genesis behind this series, how the themes were chosen, and in which significant ways the stories differ from traditional ghost tales, each other, and similarly themed Asian horrors. Each film is mentioned, with special attention paid to the female director of Wishing Stairs, the 'three rules' of making horror movies, and how the series evolved. "TV Spots with Behind the Scenes" footage is nowhere near as satisfying -- although the trailer is enticing, the 'bts' footage is more fluff. The "Theatrical Trailer" evocatively represents the film, and the last segment, the "Extended Photo Gallery," features several noteworthy images. Previews for other Tartan Asia Extreme titles and additional subtitles round out the package.

Review by William P. Simmons