The Pied Piper is a legend that goes back at least to the fourteenth Century. It first appeared on a stained glass window in a church in the German town of Hamelin (although this was destroyed in the 17th Century). The story, the most famous version of which was retold by the Brothers Grimm in 1816, concerns a pied piper (pied meaning multi-coloured clothing) who turns up in Hamelin and agrees to get rid of the rats that are plaguing the townspeople. Doing so with his pipe, the piper afterwards finds the town reneging on the agreed payment and takes a revenge by using his music to lull the towns children away. There have been a number of film versions of the Pied Piper story before, the most well-known being The Pied Piper of Hamelin (1957), a musical version for US tv starring Van Johnson; the notedly dark The Pied Piper (1972) from Jacques Demy starring Donovan in the title role; and Czech stop-motion animator Jiri Batas The Pied Piper (1986).
For a time in, The Piper looked like it was just going to be a regular telling of the fairytale. It serves up a variety of familiar characters the simple-minded piper father, his ailing son who is intended to tug our heartstrings (a character that does not exist in the original story), the pure-hearted love interest and the venal villagers. Things seem passably well drawn between serious drama and the goofy broad comedy that Asian cinema seems to specialise in. Things start to become interesting when Kim Kawng-tae pulls off a majestic scene, shot in broad wide angles and aerial shots down on the entire village, where the piper draws the rats en masse out of the village using a cloud of fumes and a trail of powder.
Up to this point, it is perfectly conceivable that The Piper could still be operating as a standard version of the fairytale and viewable by a childrens audience (albeit if it seems pitched more as an adult drama). Then however things start to get really interesting as Kim Kwang-tae turns the story on its head. The scene with the villagers plotting and the elder turning perfectly innocuous things that the piper has done around on their head to suggest he is a Communist spy brings a fervid fascination that suddenly makes you sit bolt upright. Not to mention gives the film a sudden political dimension one about how South Korea became rent with paranoia and suspicion and denunciation of suspected infiltrators from the North in the aftermath of the Korean War (although in Kim Kwang-taes own words, this is a broad allegory that could exist concerning mob rule in any day and age).
After this point, The Piper suddenly starts to take a turn for the brutal and harrowing none the more so than when the hero of the show has his fingers severed. The Pied Piper story is turned into something akin to Clint Eastwoods High Plains Drifter (1973) in which the piper acts as a force of supernatural retribution for the villagers collective guilt over their driving out of a colony of lepers (at least I think that is what happened it is not always clear reading through subtitles what exactly transpired). There is the extraordinary vision where the bloodied shaman woman appears to deliver a prophecy of their doom. After other atrocities, we arrive at the amazing ending [PLOT SPOILERS] where we get a repeat of the classical ending of the fairytale but with a much more grim emphasis. The piper builds another cloud of fumes as the score itself starts to brood with violence about to explode all stentorious, grinding brass and we see the unleashing of the rats to tear apart the villagers. The final image of the piper with white-painted face smeared with blood dancing through the village playing his pipe, leading the children after him and locking them all in the same cave in the hillside where he despatched the rats has a grim unforgettableness.
(Screening at the Vancouver International Film Festival)