'The Fifth Thoracic Vertebra' Review: An Emotional Monstrosity Is Born From a Mattress in Syeyoung Park's Debut Feature
Mattresses are everyday household objects that are typically overlooked, covered by sheets and blankets for most of their lives (except for laundry day). Yet, they are also the nucleus of a home: a place where we perform the contrasting actions of taking rest and making love. We have all heard the disgusting statistics of how many skin cells they retain, almost transforming mattresses from objects to subjects as they take on filaments of the bodies that lay upon them. In Syeyoung Park's debut horror feature, The Fifth Thoracic Vertebra, the writer/director explores the sentiments of the subjective and storied pasts that objects can hold, realized through a mattresses-dwelling monster born from a mysterious fungus on the surface of a transient mattress in South Korea. Unique and inventive in its visual approach, The Fifth Thoracic Vertebra delivers a rejuvenated –– if not overly ambitious –– form of the monster movie.
The Fifth Thoracic Vertebra begins 538 days before the birth of its monster when a young couple moves their mattress into the new apartment they share. Time passes by, and the relationship reaches a natural conclusion when it becomes clear that the pair cannot make it work. Left alone in his post-breakup despair, the emotions of the male half of the couple begin to provide sustenance for the growth of the monster within the mattress, evolving from a grotesquely colorful fungus into a humanoid creature that eventually attacks the man in his sleep, using a tentacle-like appendage to rip out his vertebra and feast upon it. From there, the mattress and the enigmatic creation within travel from place to place across South Korea, continuing to gorge on the backbones of unsuspecting prey that range from a dying woman in a hospital bed to yet another unhappy couple trying to sort out their relationship. As the monster's kill list grows longer, it becomes ever more connected to human emotion, taking on the pains and passions of its lonely victims.
A combination of brooding romanticism and ghastly horror make up the most intriguing feature of The Fifth Thoracic Vertebra, merging sensual visual language with a sickly gruesomeness. Serving as his own cinematographer, Park's camera maintains both a shakiness reflective of its handheld control and a placidness that allows viewers to submerse themselves within the kaleidoscopic images. The film's segmented narrative works through scenes deeply saturated in primary colors, reflective of the dynamic journey its central monster undertakes as it reaches its complete form. The movie's concentration on texture –– from the growing fungus that spawns the beast to the beaded curtains of cheap motels –– serves as a benchmark of its experimental vision.
Park breaks striking ground in the horror genre through his depictions of gore and carnage in The Fifth Thoracic Vertebra. Contrasting the introspective human encounters atop the mattress, the monster that lives inside is only shown in bits and pieces, scuttling around and covertly attacking its victims with nauseating squelches and squeals. Piercing the spines of its sufferers and tearing out their vertebrae, the targets die a dreadful death before they realize what has even occurred, often attacking them in their most vulnerable state. As the monster grows stronger and begins to manifest the feelings of its slaughters, it assumes a level of humanity that will sit interestingly with audiences in empathetic ways that are not usually associated with bloodthirsty entities in other works of horror.
While the big swings Park takes in creating an atmosphere of passion and horror are successful, the thematic elements of The Fifth Thoracic Vertebra are left somewhat neglected. From the film's investigations of the passage of time to the nuanced dynamics of interpersonal connections, Park's screenplay takes on weighty sentiments that are thinly engaged in the movie's runtime, which clocks in just over an hour. Fewer ideas or a longer runtime would have allowed for more balance between the film's bold visual language and its shallow narrative language. Despite its half-baked ruminations on the human condition, The Fifth Thoracic Vertebra still triumphs as a work complete with refreshing perspectives.
Through its focus on consuming the bones from where the name of the film is derived, the shape-shifting monster in The Fifth Thoracic Vertebra innately binds itself with its victims, feasting on the osseous matter that protects the spinal cord, the connection between the human brain and body. This corporeal concept works powerfully to convey the humanity and horror of the movie, one that stands out for its original vision. At just 26 years old, Park's filmmaking sensibilities show tremendous promise for his feature-length work to come. The movie was first introduced to audiences in 2022, playing at festivals across the globe, including the Bucheon Fantastic Film Festival and Fantasia Fest. The Fifth Thoracic Vertebra will be made available via SVOD on IndiePix Unlimited beginning Friday, October 20.