Y'all'll Never See Peaches the Aforementioned Fashion Again After Parasite

Do peaches have the best agent in Hollywood? Photograph: Neon

Warning: some balmy spoilers ahead.

Parasite's description seems simple plenty: A poor family schemes their way into a wealthy family'southward employ — the summer of scam returns! When nosotros meet the poor family (the Kims), they're living in a beneath-street-level apartment where they clamber onto elevated toilets to mooch Wi-Fi from their neighbors. Meanwhile, the wealthy family (the Parks) are living in a modernist mansion that's the finest existent estate I've seen this side of Big Little Lies. Ane by ane, the Kims, pretending not to know each other, manage to get hired into service at the Park mansion: as tutors for their children, as a housekeeper, as a driver. It seems obvious that the Kims are leeching off the Parks. ("If you put our salaries together," Ki-taek observes one dark, "the amount of coin coming from that family into ours is immense.") Just Parasite'south worldview isn't so simple as to bandage one family evil and the other heroic. Manager Bong Joon-ho described it equally "a comedy without clowns and a tragedy without villains." Together, the families form a twisted, brilliant octet, and that's earlier we become to what's going on behind certain airtight doors.

But we are gathered here today not to talk well-nigh those doors, but to talk about peaches. Because I promise that afterwards Parasite, which screened this week as part of the Toronto International Film Festival, you will not look at them the aforementioned style again.

It all starts with the Kim kids — who go by Kevin and Jessica in the Park household and get hired beginning — as the aforementioned tutors to a daughter and son, respectively. To get their dad on payroll, they plant a pair of panties in the backseat of Mr. Park'southward motorcar, framing the family driver and ensuring their father is pulled in as his replacement. Then they set their sights on Park's longtime housekeeper, Moon-kwang. She's older, not exactly warm, and a little suspicious of the new staff and how quickly they've infiltrated her home. Soon enough, the Kims discover something virtually her they can exploit: her very serious peach allergy. It'south non a tickle-in-your-throat allergy or something that tin be staved off with a few pills — her peach allergy is only every bit sickly hilarious as Will Smith'due south in Hitch. All information technology takes is a few picayune scrapes of peach fuzz for Moon-kwang to have to abandon the luxurious house (not then voluntarily) and its blue-blood residents.

And so, upon watching Parasite, hither is something I have become convinced of: Information technology'due south non the Jennifers (Lawrence or Lopez) or the Chrises (Pine, Evans, Hemsworth, Meloni, or Messina) or the Hollywood Alans (Arkin or Alda, aye I am trying to make this a thing) — peaches have the best agent in Hollywood. They bear witness up in everything, doing everything. I am and then happy to report that peaches have continued to exist employed equally the chaos agent of contemporary cinema, or at least the concluding two-ish years of my movie-going life. They were penetrated (and, importantly, uneaten) in Call Me by Your Proper name; they're poisonous in Parasite; they even have a bit function on Succession, as the terminal proper noun of the flavor'due south best new grapheme, Cyd Peach!

Sure, pre-Parasite, peaches got a star-making part in Telephone call Me by Your Name. Frustrated-in-love teen Elio Perlman plucks a peach as a summer afternoon snack, but begins stroking it affectionately, and one thing leads to some other and — hmm, how to put this delicately? — fucks it. Enter his slightly older lover Oliver who, surprised and amused by Elio'due south action, dips a finger into the peach and tastes its remains. I'g imagining the Telephone call Me By Your Proper noun scene as a existent ingenue moment for peaches: Grapes and oranges always go to shine, but peaches were overlooked. Peaches were working day shifts at a café and auditioning on afternoons off, like Emma Rock in La La State. But and then, in Call Me by Your Name, they're discovered! Huzzah, a new "It" fruit arrives in Hollywood — suddenly they're booked and decorated and also ignoring hundreds of emails simply to check the Google Warning for their proper noun, which previously just buzzed when James and the Giant Peach was added or removed from a streaming service.

Parasite, though, is the the star-making moment for this fruit. After Call Me by Your Name they were but on a Immature Hollywood listing, betwixt an ex-Disney star and a YouTuber; at present they're being approached at LAX arrivals past a TMZ reporter waiting for Bieber. The ability peaches take: Apples are poisonous in every movie. That's not range! Bananas are always the butt of some sophomoric phallic gag. That's not depth! Avocados — which I will acknowledge I did not realize qualified as fruit until this very moment — are the premier lazy person's signifier for millennial status. Cherries and lemons were each immortalized by separate Beyoncé projects, so they're doing just fine.

Strawberries, watermelon, grapefruit, and blackberries: Y'all should all be calling peaches' agent. Cantaloupes can asphyxiate though, because I'grand pretty certain I'm allergic.

You'll Never See Peaches the Same Way Again After Parasite