An alternate title to The Housemaid could be “Hot for Teacher,” as every other woman in the film seems to be lusting after the — by Korean standards — manly piano instructor. The movie is lusty all right. I was somewhat taken aback by the sight of a rain-soaked Lee Eun-shim (a dead ringer for Gong Li), clutching her heaving bosom, as she shuffles toward the ivory-tickling object of her desires with a “fuck the shit out of me!” look in her eyes. And fuck the shit out of her he does, I presume, since she announces her pregnancy in the very next scene.

(Now, for all you Julliard dropouts out there with thoughts of moving to South Korea for endless nights of soju-fueled debauchery, I should warn you that unless your abs resemble a Dentyne “Ice” blister pack and you’re not androgynously pretty the only “tail” you’re likely to get is that which once belonged to a schnauzer, smeared in red pepper paste and grilled over a coal fire. What I’m basically trying to say is that if you look like Billy Joel or Lang Lang your odds of getting laid are nil.)

The Housemaid has two things going for it: Lee Eun-shim’s hysterically funny performance and a tense, claustrophic atmosphere. Other than that, it’s just a mishmash of elements lifted from James M. Cain novels, Clouzot’s Le corbeau, and Ida Lupino films. I’d call it good campy fun except it’s not much fun.

The bizarro ending will have you scratching your head until you cause a bald spot. Makes you wonder if Kim Ki-young saw Psycho prior to shooting this film.