Yeah, these are the women who want to be more beautiful!

I’ve done yoga. The scariest thing about yoga is the fear of passing gas while in a downward dog position. I’m all about the shavasana, though. That is until I found out it meant something like “modified corpse.” Maybe that’s what inspired the creators of this Korean “horror” movie. There are definitely some “horrible” things in this movie (like most of the acting), for the life of me I couldn’t figure out how they could make something scary out of a yoga class. But this week’s K-Hor Humpday flick does just that.

I can only imagine that this movie is little known outside of Korea, so a little plot explanation is in order. Trust me, this won’t take long. A group of already attractive, skinny Korean girls show up to this mystical, private yoga studio for what they have been assured is the key to ultimate beauty. They’re all there for different personal reasons, but they all want the same thing. A quick, easy way to be more beautiful than they already are.
They are welcomed by a stunningly beautiful instructor who lays down the only four rules: 1) No unauthorized eating. 2) No bath an hour before or after a workout session. 3) No mirrors. 4) No contact with the outside world. (They outdid Gremlins by one rules!) They think that if they succeed, they will be granted something called the Kundalini by the mysterious owner whose beauty shots decorate the studio. It’s not until well into the third day of the week long process they find out that only one girl will get the Kundalini. So it becomes a kind of competition, but as is predictable, we see the consequences as different girls begin breaking the rules. Imagine Agatha Christie’s Ten Little Indians, but with only 5 girls. Add to all this some obscure flashbacks which do NOT make these women any more sympathetic and that’s Yoga Class.
They are welcomed by a stunningly beautiful instructor who lays down the only four rules: 1) No unauthorized eating. 2) No bath an hour before or after a workout session. 3) No mirrors. 4) No contact with the outside world. (They outdid Gremlins by one rules!) They think that if they succeed, they will be granted something called the Kundalini by the mysterious owner whose beauty shots decorate the studio. It’s not until well into the third day of the week long process they find out that only one girl will get the Kundalini. So it becomes a kind of competition, but as is predictable, we see the consequences as different girls begin breaking the rules. Imagine Agatha Christie’s Ten Little Indians, but with only 5 girls. Add to all this some obscure flashbacks which do NOT make these women any more sympathetic and that’s Yoga Class.

This was my first time watching this film and will probably be my last. It’s not because it’s a terrible film; it’s not. It’s just too predictable (well, except the ending which I’m still working out). The camera work is beautifully done. It doesn’t beat you over the head with the occult touches; it’s not too gory, just enough to make it appealing to the slasher crowd. But it’s the film’s tone that is its strongest attribute.
The bad acting is not really the fault of the actresses. It’s endemic of Korean style in TV dramas and other films. The females are whiners and that drives me crazy. There’s one scene where the main character, has lunch with her friends who criticize her boyfriend as not being marriage material due to his financial status. She goes straight home and lays into him and tells him she thinks they need a break at which point he grabs his keys and leaves...only she’s screaming at him, “Where are you going?” Very Korean melodrama style. And totally ridiculous.
The bad acting is not really the fault of the actresses. It’s endemic of Korean style in TV dramas and other films. The females are whiners and that drives me crazy. There’s one scene where the main character, has lunch with her friends who criticize her boyfriend as not being marriage material due to his financial status. She goes straight home and lays into him and tells him she thinks they need a break at which point he grabs his keys and leaves...only she’s screaming at him, “Where are you going?” Very Korean melodrama style. And totally ridiculous.

It’s really hard to care about beautiful girls who only seem to be concerned with becoming more beautiful, and oddly enough it’s this kind of vanity the movie seems to be criticizing, but it’s been done far better before in films like Dumplings in 2004 (an awesomely creepy film) and in Time in 2006 (a graphic exploration of Korean females’ obsession with plastic surgery). The films message is summed up by the instructor at the end when she says, “People foolishly seek an easy way to fulfill desire.” She had previously told them, “Beauty comes at a price. Only when you have overcome yourself can your true beauty shine at its brightest.” But what’s really the message when you punish females for desiring beauty? Or is this more about following rules? Or do only those willing to sacrifice deserve true beauty? It’s confusing.
The rules didn’t make sense to me at first, but then I thought, “Wait, No unauthorized eating…that’s getting them to watch their diet. No bath an hour before/after a workout session…yeah, this one stumps me. But no mirrors? That’s a denial of vanity. And the last rule, no contact with outside world, well, that’s just to cover up this creepy place from being exposed, I guess.
The rules didn’t make sense to me at first, but then I thought, “Wait, No unauthorized eating…that’s getting them to watch their diet. No bath an hour before/after a workout session…yeah, this one stumps me. But no mirrors? That’s a denial of vanity. And the last rule, no contact with outside world, well, that’s just to cover up this creepy place from being exposed, I guess.

The ending does have some nice symbolism when the main character ends up in a subway station, kind of a purgatory where she sees all the other girls who have achieved ultimate beauty. At one point she turns her back to a mirror. There’s a sign over her that say “Way Out” but I assure you, that’s what the Korean subway signs say. The ending baffles me because all the girls have achieved their goal. All their incurred scars are gone. Strange.

There’s also a subplot about an old actress and the main character’s boyfriend who is doing a documentary about her. It’s convoluted, but it does play into the ending. I’m glad I saw this movie. I’m also glad I have no desire to be beautiful. I’m equally glad there’s not a yoga class near me.