uppie art professor Mi-sook (Shim) and her ob-gyn hubby Do-il (Kim) live in a sprawling house, with a large, ancient acacia tree growing in the middle of their big backyard. Do-il's dad, an artist who works with wood, among other media, lives in a cottage under the shade of the acacia. The couple are unhappy because they can't conceive. Do-il and his dad, without the participation of Mi-sook, discuss adoption as a possible solution; this, understandably, causes some stress in the household. Mi-sook happens to see some extraordinary artwork created by a child who lost his parents ... all the paintings, despite the recurring motif of twisted figures that look like something Munch would have painted during a stint in Romper Room, feature the huge and strangely comforting image of an acacia tree.
Moved by the art, Mi-sook asks about the boy who did the paintings. She and Do-il eventually adopt the boy, a very serious and somber 6-year-old named Jin-seong (the pretty amazing Mun). Jin-seong, once in his new home, forms a strange bond with the acacia tree. Do-il's dad takes to the boy at once and teaches the kid ancient lore about the acacia tree. Mi-sook's mother, however, hates the kid and thinks it would have been much better to have a grandchild related to her by blood.
Mi-sook gets pregnant, and her mom is delighted that she'll soon have a "real" grandchild. Jin-seong is upset by the arrival of his little sibling and begins to "act out" his turmoil by wrecking his mom's artwork, setting fires and trying to smother the baby.
Tensions come to a head, and on a rainy night Jin-seong runs away. Or does he? The acacia seems to "know" the boy is missing. Accidents and deaths occur. Is the acacia tree a spiritual being, as Jin-seong thinks? And is it somehow responsible for the strange goings-on?
Its bite is worse than its bark
Where would horror be without "the creepy kid"? From little Rhoda Penmark in The Bad Seed to the slash-happy dead kid in Pet Sematary. From those lil' alien darlin's of The Village of the Damned to Macaulay Culkin in The Good Son. Don't forget those uncanny brats in The Innocents and that cute-as-a-button Damien from The Omen.
Writer/director Ki-Hyung Park, who previously gave audiences creepy teenage girls who'd give Carrie a run for her money in Whispering Corridors, has, with Acacia, given horror one of the most memorable "creepy kids" in the history of the genre. What's remarkable about little Jin-seong is that, as the film progresses and the various psychoses of the adults around him become more evident, warping everything that had initially seemed wholesome and sweet, Jin-seong, miraculously, stops being a "creepy kid"; he becomes a "cute kid" thrashing in a sea of warped pathology.
Acacia is a very quiet, slow and gorgeous horror movie. Ki-Hyung Park uses silence and stillness to devastating effect, letting his camera's smooth and languid movements be the most "vocal" element in a number of key scenes. Acacia sneaks up and utterly blindsides its audience. The cinematography is amazing throughout, but at the same time it's restrained and not distractingly "showy." Just like the storytelling. Weirdness builds on weirdness. By the end, when characters are having psychotic meltdowns, you don't know if it's their minds that have snapped or if it's their reality that has snapped. Or maybe their minds have snapped because their reality has snapped? Acacia, like Val Lewton classics from the 1940s, is a deliciously slow burn with a great payoff.
