text: By Jove, what an unholy mess! Revenge, incestuous love, mechanical games-like fighting, ceaseless and utterly unnecessary violence, some primitive "music" hammering away at the bewildered victims, big "surprises" (which actually tend to be about as "revelatory" as The National Enquirer's headlines). Add some shoddy camera movements pretending to be stylish and creative and you've already impressed the crowds. This movie's totally undeserved popularity powerfully indicates the very low level pop sub-culture has succeeded not only in achieving in the last decades, but also in imposing as dominant taste on an impotent audience. (For by far deeper insights into human sufferance under mental sickness, without "Oldboy"s vulgar excesses, I recommend an older Dutch/French movie, "The Vanishing".) <br /><br />Well, don't believe there's absolutely nothing good to say about this movie. In fact there is. The (in)famous scene in which the hero (is really a "hero", an abject father who sleeps with his daughter and then attempts to obtain forgetfulness rather than redemption?) eats a live octopus benefits greatly from the vivid presence of the best actor in the entire cast: the octopus itself. Too bad the poor beast, having been eaten, couldn't survive its one and only act in order to obtain yet another worthless diploma, for the "best actor", at the Cannes festival. <br /><br />Which festival, by the way, between Moore's propaganda nonsense and this epitome of worthless if somewhat exotic weirdness, became a festival of the vapid and of the ludicrous.<br /><br />Sic transit gloria mundi!