OPINION: Rush line woes

Finishing up the recap of my time at the Refocus Film Festival, I’d like to mention a unique aspect of the festival experience which was part anxiety-inducing and part thrilling: the rush line.

When I purchased my pass to the festival, I had two movies I was desperate to see: “Train Dreams,” which I spoke fondly of last week, and “No Other Choice.”

There was one problem. Tickets for “No Other Choice” were sold out. It’s not a big deal; there were plenty of other options at the festival. But still, I hoped there was some way I could manage to snag a ticket, especially for what I’d consider to be the festival’s strongest attraction.

It wasn’t just me either; former Chicago Tribune film critic Michael Phillips had visited the festival for the film. The air around “No Other Choice” was different, especially knowing it came from acclaimed Korean director Park Chan-wook of “Oldboy” and “The Handmaiden” fame.

The only way to get tickets for the film was to enter the festival rush line. This meant showing up early, hopefully earlier than everyone else, and watching the early birds who actually bought tickets at a reasonable time rush into the theater.

It’s a lot of anxiety to have three-ish hours of your life dependent on whether or not you got in line at the right time. Luckily, I barely snagged my way in. From my understanding, the festival saved some tickets for the rush line for poor souls like me. Thank you!

Ultimately though, even in the worst seats in the house (sitting front row in a movie theater will require a chiropractor visit later in life), having the chance to see “No Other Choice” early was exciting. As Phillips noted, the film’s debut at Refocus was 20 minutes after it debuted at the New York Film Festival as its U.S. debut.

“No Other Choice” tells the story of an unemployed paper expert who is desperate to be hired again. Man-su (or Man-soo, the subtitles at my screening had it different than listed officially, chalk it up to translation quirks), a father of two and the leading breadwinner, is abruptly laid off from his job.

Best portrayed within “No Other Choice” is the anxiety which comes from an increasingly tech-heavy world: machines replacing workers, AI making business decisions, even a warbley chime when opening the front door to a shop. What feels natural 25 years ago is no longer the case years later.

Man-su, fighting for a chance at being a candidate in a shrinking paper industry, can barely get his foot in the door. He writes notes on his hand, settles his shaking, restless leg and prostrates himself in desperation, begging for any chance.

But, the former Pulp Man of the Year can’t get a shot. After a couple years, Man-su’s family has to make sacrifices. Gone are two of the happiest dogs on Earth. Gifts and private lessons Man-su used to spoil his wife and kids with are increasingly rare. When his wife starts thinking about finding a job herself, Man-su is utterly embarrassed.

This ruthless job market puts Man-su in contact with other candidates like him. In any other circle, these candidates would be a delight to have around. They’re all fathers, they know exactly what a good piece of paper feels like and they bring the best type of whiskey to share a couple rounds.

But here, in a competitive environment, potential friends become existential enemies. This isn’t a matter of dream jobs — this is the survival of Man-su’s family, or worse, his own dignity.

What Man-su chooses to do is take matters into his own hands, slowly stalking the other candidates, getting almost intimately familiar with their personal lives before removing their ability to compete. You’ve probably already guessed what that means.

The balancing act “No Other Choice” achieves is keeping Man-su’s life in check. The eventual slip into total desperation comes with layers of black comedy which keep getting funnier as the film goes on. Even when typical Park Chan-wook dark imagery eventually emerges, we’ve reached a point of no return.

But what remains the most interesting throughout “No Other Choice” is how often conversations which are hostile on the surface are exasperated by lingering circumstances. From how Man-su talks to his family to how job candidates discuss their love of paper, desperation is constantly marinating.

It leaves “No Other Choice” with more than two hours of stress being built to a somber ending, a tradition which has come to define modern Korean cinema in my head. It’s a movie desperate to be rewatched, and I’m somewhat annoyed it’ll be a while until this movie’s release in theaters or at home.

“No Other Choice” was picked up in the U.S. by indie distributor Neon, although if a wide release will occur is up in the air. Best guess, “No Other Choice” will be on Hulu sometime March-June of next year. Ugh. What a long time to wait. Maybe there’s a rush line.