Download The Handmaiden (2016) Korean Movie
Download The Handmaiden (2016) Korean Movie with English Subtitles, Watch The Handmaiden (2016) Korean Movie, The Handmaiden (2016) Korean Movie, Download The Handmaiden (2016) Korean Movie Eng Sub, Download The Handmaiden (2016) Korean Movie indo sub, The Handmaiden (2016) Korean Movie Dramacool, Download The Handmaiden (2016) Korean Movie in 480p, 720p, 1080p x264, x265, Hevc, Webrip, Web-Dl.
1930’s Korea, in the period of Japanese occupation, Sook Hee is hired as a handmaiden to a Japanese heiress, Hideko, who lives a secluded life on a large countryside estate with her domineering Uncle Kouzuki. But the maid has a secret. She is a pickpocket recruited by a swindler posing as a Japanese Count to help him seduce the Lady to elope with him, rob her of her fortune, and lock her up in a madhouse. The plan seems to proceed according to plan until Sook Hee and Hideko discover some unexpected emotions.
- Native Title: 아가씨
- Romanization: Agasshi
- Director: Park Chan Wook
- Genres: Thriller, Historical, Psychological, Romance, Drama, Mature
- Country: South Korea
- Release Date: Jun 1, 2016
- Duration: 2 hr. 25 min.
- Type: Movie
- Quality: 480p, 720p & 1080p
- Audio: Korean
- Subtitles: English
Download The Handmaiden (2016) with English Subtitles
The Handmaiden (2016) [480p] [Eng Sub]
The Handmaiden (2016) [720p] [Eng Sub]
The Handmaiden (2016) [1080p] [Eng Sub]
Watch Trailer of The Handmaiden (2016) Korean Movie
The Handmaiden (2016) Korean Movie Review
Park Chan-Wook’s “The Handmaiden” is a love story, revenge thriller and puzzle film set in Japanese-occupied Korea in the 1930s. It is voluptuously beautiful, frankly sexual, occasionally perverse and horrifically violent. At times its very existence feels inexplicable. And yet all of its disparate pieces are assembled with such care, and the characters written and acted with such psychological acuity, that you rarely feel as if the writer-director is rubbing the audience’s nose in excess of one kind or another. This is a film made by an artist at the peak of his powers: Park, a South Korean director who started out as a critic, has many great or near-great genre films, including “Oldboy,” “Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance,” “Lady Vengeance” and “Thirst,” but this one is so intricate yet light-footed that it feels like the summation of his career to date.
It’s also as inspiring an example of East-West cross-pollination as cinema has given us, on par with Akira Kurosawa’s adaptations of Shakespeare, Dostoevsky and Dashiell Hammett in its ability to submerge a respected source while keeping its outlines visible. The plot faintly evokes many Gothic thrillers (chiefly “Rebecca,” “Jane Eyre” and “Gaslight”) and quite a few examples of film noir as well; Park’s source is Sarah Waters’ Fingersmith, a 2002 novel set in Dickensian England that was previously made as a 2005 British miniseries. The result seems at once specifically English, specifically Korean and not of this astral plane; like Park’s best work, it’s an expressionistic, at times surreal movie that skates along the knife-edge of dreams. Every frame pulses with life, sometimes with blood.
The script tells of a spirited female pickpocket named Sooki, actually named Tamako ( Kim Tae-ri), who gets a job as a handmaiden at the estate of a rich old book collector (Lee Yong-nyeo), serving him and Lady Hideko (Kim Min-hee), the niece of his late wife; she gets pulled into a scheme by a fake count who wants to marry the niece and have her committed to an asylum so that he can claim her fortune; the book collector, the fake count’s mentor, has more or less the same plan in mind. “Frankly, I’m not that interested in money itself,” says the fake count, who was raised by a Korean fisherman but claims to be Japanese and calls himself Fujiwara (Ha Jung-woo). “What I desire is—how shall I put it?—the manner of ordering wine without looking at the price.”
The plan is fiendishly complicated, but it grows thornier still when Sooki/Tamako starts falling in love with her target. Their blossoming affair is tenderly observed—a startlingly blunt sex scene is delayed until fairly deep into the film, and preceded by many scenes that pivot upon subtle glances, overheard remarks, and moments where one woman rushes to the other’s defense. The fake count is handsome and can be dashing at times—Ha looks so at home in a tuxedo that you could imagine him wearing it to a supermarket—but he’s also pig who seems to revel in his piggishness, and his intended target sees through him immediately. When he calls her “mesmerizing” over a tense dinner, she replies, “Men use the word ‘mesmerizing’ when they wish to touch a lady’s breasts.” He’s upfront about his utter cyncism and lack of affection for Lady Hideko, a crushed flower of a woman who was raised from girlhood as a virtual prisoner by the book collector after—well, let’s just call it a tragedy, because now we’re at the point in this review where describing any specific moment or scene from “The Handmaiden” in detail would rob readers of one of the great pleasures of watching a densely plotted, elegantly executed motion picture: having no idea of what’s about to happen next, yet nearly always being surprised and enthralled by both the twist itself and the film’s presentation of it.
As you might have deduced, “The Handmaiden” is a story that is also about storytelling, and writing, and picture making, and the obsessive-compulsive attention to detail that links so many great artists throughout history, regardless of medium, worldview or temperament. The movie is filled with literal and figurative nods to the act of artistic creation, from the loving close-ups of the book collector’s treasured volumes, the drawings and paintings made by Hideko and the fake count (he was originally hired to tutor her), and the shots of calligraphic sentences scratched onto letters and scrolls, to the way that blood spilled by lovemaking or disfigurement blooms upon mattresses and stone floors, rhyming with the lotus blossoms glimpsed in trees over the characters’ heads, the eruptions of green that accompany transitions from indoors to outdoors, extreme closeups of voyeurs’ eyeballs, and shots of a full moon so bright that it seems to be burning a hole through the clouds.
These touches are all striking in their own right. But they never feel ostentatiously disconnected from the story and characters. “The Handmaiden” is about a lot of things, among them trust and vulnerability, imprisonment and freedom, and the tension between the authentic self and the façade that individuals create, and that society imposes from without. Park never loses track of these ideas or forgets about them, but they never expressed in tediously rhetorical terms—always in a gliding, playful, often audaciously musical way. “The Handmaiden” stirs the senses by appealing to our gut feelings, our sense of morals and ethics, and our appreciation for the sight of great artists making magic as if it’s the easiest thing in the world.