곡성

It's an unforgiving film, one whose story you may question when it's over. But you won't forget it.

Despite its epic length, The Wailing never bores as Na slathers his tale with generous supplies of atmosphere and awfulness.

It may be impossible to turn off your brain while watching "The Wailing," but that makes the film's visceral charms that much more admirably vexing.

The Wailing succeeds at combining a mood of deep unease with visceral gore, buddy cop comedy, and a hallucinogenic mix of horror tropes - a recipe that yields, among other things, an atypical exorcism helmed by an intense Korean shaman.

It's a dish with many complex flavors that may seem odd when you see it on the menu, but once you try it, you're not going back to anything else.

The Wailing is worth every second of its 156 minute run time.

The Wailing's is a world where histories, identities, cultures, realities and generic codes and conventions collapse in spectacular, unforgettable style.

The film justifies its epic length, meshing ancient east Asian mythology and rituals with more recognizable horror tropes in a way that feels novel and unpredictable.

The Wailing is the hard stuff. Handle with care.

The film's chaos is offset by often majestic visual grace.

Na certainly has fun with an onscreen world whose rules keep getting rewritten with each new iteration of evil.

"The Wailing" is the rare commercial thriller whose feverish manipulations can't be dismissed as merely callous or exploitative.

The Wailing is a Hell of a ride, but Na should have given more thought to its destination.

"The Wailing" is something like the most gruesome and gripping Scandinavian crime drama you can imagine, transported to a rain-sodden Asian backwater where everyone's in a bad mood and science, religion and superstition are locked in uneasy combat.

Both a high-minded zombie flick and a visceral lament for broken family bonds.

there's real beauty and devastation in the film's finale, as the harrowing father-daughter relationship reaches its apex

Na Hong-jin's spellbinding and scatterbrained new film is 156 minutes of demented occult nonsense that gradually begins to feel less like a linear scary story than that it does a ritualistic invocation of the antichrist.

The Wailing might be a somewhat meandering and nonsensical genre recombination, but that spell never breaks over its lengthy running time.

Na Hong-jin's The Wailing is a work of thriller maximal-ism, a rare case of more actually being more rather than less.

The Wailing is long and involving, permeated by a tense, sickening sense of foreboding, yet finally registers on a slightly lower key than the director's acclaimed genre films The Chaser and The Yellow Sea.