I’m sure no one needs another voice in this roaring crowd echoing that this is a truly good movie. Sadly, it didn’t reach masterpiece levels for me but not on account of the story itself or the performances. To my surprise, eventually, it was the third act that tired me.
I found The Handmaiden solidly filmed, at times with such maestria that my eyes refused to blink in case my brain missed the chance to process even a nanosecond of the beauty I was witnessing. My ears were lovingly caressed by a stunning score and my interest was whole-heartedly suspended in the competent work of the thespians.
However, somewhere along the two-hour mark, I started feeling sated by certain thematic repetitions; I was full and ready to finish this audiovisual meal of Lucullian proportions. Unfortunately, the pace broadened and the dishes kept coming, slowly having me mentally reaching for antacids.
It’s not a movie I will be rushing to watch again any time soon. That being said, I predict it’s also not a movie the details of which I will come to forget any time soon, either.