Park Chan-wook’s 12th feature-length movie, No Other Choice, begins with Man-su (Lee Byung-hun) as a proud patriarch at the barbecue, a vision of the platonic ideal domestic life he will spend most of the movie defending. In the long middle where life is lived, the movie offers its audience mirth and pathos and deep social critique. Also: murders. After being laid off from a paper company, Man-su realizes that his best chance at getting hired for his next job is to knock off the three other qualified candidates.

Adapted from Donald Westlake’s novel The Ax, No Other Choice captures — most delightfully and cathartically — the perpetual and unsolvable anxiety of living under an economic system built around extracting surplus value from its workers. Or the dark irony that if a corporation makes a person redundant, it is strategy; if a human does the same, it’s a crime.

With this film, not to mention his earlier works like Oldboy and The Handmaiden, Park establishes himself as a director who understands intimately that tragedy and comedy cannot be separated. Here, it’s the tragedy that life must be lived, that we ought to work at all, that so much in this life in fact depends on this work, set against the comedy of how somebody like Man-su sets about solving this impossible riddle for himself.

The Verge spoke with Park about his relationship to his source material, artificial intelligence, and how he recovers after wrapping a picture.

This interview has been edited and condensed.

The Verge: Have you ever been fired from a job?

Park Chan-wook: That’s never happened to me, mercifully. Those kinds of things actually happen quite often in our industry. I’ve been fortunate enough to avoid that fate, but there have been many times when I’ve been afraid of being let go. While working on any project, invariably comes a time when differences in opinion form between the studio or the producers. In that instance, whenever I stubbornly stick to my original position, I do so knowing I am exposing myself to that kind of danger.

And when a movie comes out and it doesn’t do well, then comes the fear that I won’t be able to find a job again, or that I won’t be able to raise funds for my next project.

But also that fear isn’t something that accompanies you after you get your report card from the box office exclusively. All throughout the filmmaking process, it stays with you, that fear. It stays with you from the initial planning stages of a movie. And then if the movie doesn’t do well, that fear sharpens, and it never goes away. It is near to you always.

At the screening I attended, you said you first encountered the source material, the Donald Westlake novel The Ax, via your love of the movie Point Blank, which you cite as your favorite noir. Do you remember how you discovered the movie, and are there other Westlake novels you are curious about?

Point Blank is a film directed by John Boorman, a British director, and I watched it for two reasons. The first is that I’ve always liked John Boorman. The first Boorman film I ever saw was Excalibur.

Second, I’m a fan of the actor Lee Marvin. Because Point Blank was a collaboration between a director I like and an actor I also like, I had always wanted to see it. But accessing the movie was difficult in Korea for a long time, so it was only later that I got to watch it.

As for Westlake, surprisingly not too many of his books are in translation. That The Ax was translated into Korean was itself an anomaly. And so I’ve only read a few of his books.

You’ve been trying to make No Other Choice for 16 years. You also said you tried going through Hollywood first. How come?

Since the novel was written with an American setting, I naturally thought making it into an American film would be the best option. At that time, I had already made Oldboy, Thirst, Lady Vengeance, and Stoker, and so making a movie in America was not intimidating.

What was the most common feedback you received in these early years?

In 2010, we secured the rights and began actively pursuing the project. Initially, we met with French investors. Although it was to be an American movie filmed in America, we met with French investors thanks to Michèle Ray-Gavras, wife of [director] Costa-Gavras, who was among our producers, and through her we contacted various studios, from France to the United States.

Starting then, I continued receiving offers that were slightly less than what I wanted, which is why I could not possibly accept them.

As for notes from the studios, beyond anything, they doubted whether the audience would believe that Man-su would resort to murder because he lost his job. They wanted to know how I was going to bring the audience along.

Other than that, people’s senses of humor varied slightly. Some said this part isn’t funny. Others said that part isn’t funny. We faced some challenges.

You mentioned there are Easter eggs strewn about the movie and I am curious about them. You mentioned that the oven mitt Man-su uses during his attempted murder can be seen later back in his kitchen. A Christmas stocking from the same scene can be seen in a family photo in the background. What other such details are there to look out for?

I can’t guarantee that the framed photo with the Santa Claus costume can be seen properly. We did place it on set during filming. In fact, we gathered the entire family, dressed them up and took pictures specifically for that framed photo. But I don’t know if it is actually visible in the final movie. It will definitely, however, be in the extended cut that I’m preparing for the Blu-ray release.

And rather than considering it an Easter egg, it might be more accurate to consider it part of creating a believable world for the actors. So that once the actors enter that world, they feel like they can more easily become their characters. And for there to be that trust and sense of a stable reality, the better it is to attend to props or anything else spatially. The more consideration, the better.

AI shows up at the end of the movie, which I imagine was not part of the original idea you had when you began the project. When did you know to add AI to the film?

Had this been made into an American film, such a plot point would not have been available. It was only because the process took so long that the issue could be incorporated.

Any director making a movie about employment, or unemployment rather, would be remiss to not mention AI. Moreover — and this was important for me — by the end, Man-su’s family catches on to what he has done in the name of the family. Of course, Man-su isn’t entirely sure if they know, but the audience knows. The very thing he does for his family will be the thing that leads to its collapse. All of his efforts are for naught, which echoes the situation with AI.

He painstakingly eliminated his human competitors to secure a job. But what he confronts at his new workplace is a competitor more formidable than any mortal. Meaning Man-su likely won’t last long before AI takes over. He will lose his job, yet again, at which point, what was it all for? What were the murders for? This too can be seen as a colossal wasted effort.

Therefore, the introduction of AI technology from a creative perspective was a great addition to the movie.

How do you feel about the use of AI in film? Would you use it in your own work? I am sensing the answer is “no.”

I hope that never happens.

It’s not easy for young film students out there. And if there were a technology that allows them to make their own movies at a reduced cost, in a way that could not have been possible before, who could stop them? It would not be possible to tell them not to.

What is the question No Other Choice is asking?

Those who have arrived at the middle class, those who have become accustomed to a certain way of life, and it wasn’t inherited, they obtained it of their own accord — for that class of people, giving all that up would be very difficult. Slipping from that station would be challenging to accept. I would certainly find it difficult to accept.

Of course, that doesn’t mean I am going to commit murder — three, no less — but it’s an impossible situation.

“My child desperately needs private cello lessons. Not only that, it’s a vital part of them becoming an independent adult.” Giving that up would be staggeringly hard. I am imagining what I might be capable of in such a scenario.

I wanted to create a space in which people might ask themselves that question. Not to simply criticize Man-su, but to ask themselves, what if, what might happen, if there was such a person in such a situation? It’s an exercise in imagination.

What was the most difficult time in your career and how did you recover from it?

When my first two films failed at the box office. Before I made JSA, the period between the first film and the second film, and between the second film and the third film, was most difficult. I had no choice but to make the rounds with my screenplay — not unlike how Man-su does with his resume — looking for producers and studio executives. Often I was rejected. That was a tough time.

By then I had married and had dependents and so I resorted to film criticism to make a living. Being a film critic is a great profession, but it was not what I wanted, so I suffered. What’s more, I wanted to be making my own movie, but instead I was reduced to analyzing other people’s movies. If I watched an excellent movie, I would be filled with envy. The reality that demanded I live like that seemed to also be mocking my pain, a kind of taunting. But I had no other means of surviving.

What will you work on next?

Actually, I have two projects that are already prepared. I have a script for a Western that has been written and revised several times. There is also a sci-fi action film for which I haven’t written the script yet, but I put together a fairly involved treatment for.

How do you recover after filming a movie?

Luckily, I am traveling with Lee Byung-hun at the moment. I might drink a glass of wine with him. He is rather serious about wine, and so if I drink with him, I am bound to drink something good.

Have you any deep and profound advice for young filmmakers?

In film school, you might learn certain lessons from your instructors. You might also learn from directors who are already successful. If you are a fan of genre, you might study the convention of your chosen genre.

That is all very well, but before anything, the first order is to really have your own voice. And to examine yourself honestly. And to tell the story that comes spontaneously from within. In my opinion, spontaneity is the most important thing. Not to say “this is popular,” or “people like this,” but what is the true thing that comes from your own and inner self? Follow that thread with sincerity.

Of course it’s easy for me to say this — anybody can say it — but putting it into practice is another thing entirely.

No Other Choice is in select theaters December 25, 2025, with a wider release planned in January.