TIFF Review: Park Chan-wook's No Other Choice is Full of Fury and Soaked in Blood

      It's uncertain if Park Chan-wook is a fan of the Sex Pistols. However, while watching his latest film, No Other Choice, I found myself reflecting on the famous line by John Lydon during the band’s infamous final show in 1978: “Ever get the feeling you’ve been cheated?” No Other Choice spans 139 minutes exploring this sentiment––what it signifies to feel wronged by employers, rivals, and artificial intelligence. It also addresses what it truly means to push back––to genuinely resist.

      The outcome is a film that is messier than the remarkable Decision to Leave, yet equally impactful. Park directs with electrifying anger––a characteristic consistent with the filmmaker behind the iconic Oldboy. This time, however, there is a “ripped from the headlines” quality that feels so emblematic of 2025. The persistent failures of employers to adequately safeguard and compensate workers, the looming threat of AI, and the diminishment of individuality resonate as significant issues in South Korea, just as they do in North America. Few filmmakers have addressed these topics quite like Park.

      Adapted from Donald Westlake’s novel The Ax––and co-written by Don McKellar!––No Other Choice begins on a day of hard-won domestic happiness for Man-soo (Lee Byung-hun). While grilling at his cherished childhood home, surprising his wife with expensive shoes, and pausing to admire his son, daughter, and large dogs, Man-soo feels he possesses everything he could ever desire. And why shouldn’t he? His employer, Solar Paper, has honored him as Pulp Man of the Year and even provided the eel he is grilling.

      However, these joys are short-lived. Solar Paper’s new owners are implementing cuts; the eel was a parting gift. Man-soo, along with many others, soon finds himself unemployed and questioning his value as a provider. What are these men without their jobs in the paper industry? How can they move forward? And what about the tennis and cello lessons, not to mention the Netflix subscription? These are the dilemmas Man-soo faces, and as he clumsily interviews for other paper industry positions, there are no straightforward solutions.

      At this juncture, No Other Choice adeptly highlights several significant challenges confronting workers in the 21st century, resembling a dark comedy about the hazards of unemployment. Then it shifts to something grimmer, more chaotic, and even more provocative. Man-soo formulates a (initially convoluted) plan to get ahead of other paper industry veterans seeking employment. It’s best to know as little as possible about this plan in advance. Still, it can be disclosed that No Other Choice is almost as brutal as Oldboy and equally ruthless in its narrative.

      Like the actions of the protagonist, Park’s film is somewhat uncontrolled in its progression. Nevertheless, it’s exhilarating to witness such a talented director channel his rage. There are also moments of wild humor, particularly a drinking contest featuring one of cinema's most painful tooth extractions. Westlake was known for writing Point Blank, and No Other Choice certainly reflects his dark wit and resilience. Throughout it all, Lee Byung-hun shines, serving as the perfect counterpoint to Park’s bold moves.

      The blood-soaked No Other Choice wraps up with a wickedly acidic “happy” ending that complements the overall tone of Park’s film. The only concrete reaction to feeling cheated, this film suggests, is to retaliate in kind. It’s a grim message, indeed. Yet if the Pulp Man of the Year could be treated with such disdain, who could defy this logic?

      No Other Choice was shown at TIFF 2025 and is set to open in theaters on December 25 before expanding in January.