Wow. If ever the term ‘whitewash’ was applicable to an awards ceremony, then the 49th Daejong Film Awards held in Yeouido on October 30th, was it. Period drama Masquerade (광해, 왕이 된 남자)received an astonishing 15 awards – out of a possible 22 – on the night, winning in every category in which it was nominated.
Critics were quick to point out that such a sweeping victory made the Film Award ceremony meaningless, and that with so many high quality productions released such as The Thieves (도둑들), A Muse (은교), Pieta (피에타) and Architecture 101 (건축학개론), it was unfair. Yet, even when taking such claims into consideration, it is difficult to argue against the decisions made by the judges. Masquerade is a sumptuous period drama utilizing the exquisite traditional clothes of the Joseon dynasty as well as historical locations which virtually guaranteed the technical awards, while the performances of the central cast have received incredible critical acclaim. As such, the drama won Best Film, Best Director for Choo Chang-min, Best Actor for Lee Byeong-heon, Best Supporting Actor for Ryoo Seung-ryeong, Best Screenplay for Hwang Jo-yoon, as well as a host of production awards.
Yet it wasn’t entirely Masquerade‘s night, as the Best Actress award went to Pieta star Jo Min-soo while Best Supporting Actress went to Kim Hae-sook for The Thieves. Best New Actor went to Kim Seong-gyoon for his role in Neighbors (이웃사람), while her stunning turn as a high school student in A Muse earned Kim Go-eun the Best New Actress award. Best New Director went to Choi Jong-tae for Hand in Hand (해로).
The 2012 installment of the London Korean Film Festival begins this coming weekend, opening on the 1st of November and continuing through to the 11th in the capital before taking the show on the road to Glasgow, Bristol and Bournemouth. This year has been incredible for Korean cinema and the quality of films produced is reflected in the stellar line-up.
The opening gala, to be held at he high profile Odeon West End, will feature the most successful film in Korean cinematic history – The Thieves (도둑들). Following the screening will be a Q&A session with director Choi Dong-hoon (최동훈) and actor Kim Yoon-seok (김윤석), who has appeared in such prolific films including The Chaser (추격자), The Yellow Sea (황해), and Punch (완득이). Bookending the festival on the 10th of November will be the hugely – and still currently – successful film Masquerade (광해, 왕이 된 남자), also featuring an Q&A with director Choo Chang-min (추창민) and superstar Lee Byeong-Heon (이병헌), who is in London filming action film Red 2.
The festival will also highlight several other of the notable films produced in Korea this year, including science-fiction disease thriller Deranged (연가시) about a new form of parasite that spreads chaos across Korea, comedy-drama Dancing Queen (댄싱퀸) involving a middle-aged woman who attempts to realize her life-long ambitions, and poetically romantic Eungyo (AKA A Muse) (은교) which explores the love that develops between an aging poet and a 17 year old girl. Also present are All About My Wife (내 아내의 모든 것), a comedy about a man desperately trying to divorce his nagging other half, table tennis drama As One (코리아) which is based on the true events of the Northern and Southern teams forced to play together at the 1991 Championships, and Top Gun-inspired action film R2B: Return to Base (R2B: 리턴투베이스).
The Thieves (도둑들) will open the festival
Animated films are ably represented in the form of stark, poignant drama King of Pigs (돼지의 왕) about a reunion of school friends that forces old secrets to light, and indie hit Padak (파닥파닥) involving a fish attempting to escape his fate at a sushi restaurant and return to the ocean. Katuri – A Story of a Mother Bird (엄마 까투리), will also feature.
To honour director Choi Dong-hoon (최동훈), as well as opening the festival with his latest success The Thieves there will also be a retrospective of his work including The Big Swindle (범죄의 재구성), Tazza: The High Rollers (타짜), andJeon Woo-chi : The Taoist Wizard (전우치).
For the full line-up and to purchase tickets for the event, please head over to the official London Korean Film Festival website, or alternatively visit Hangul Celluloid who first broke news of the line up and sports a host of reviews and interviews with those within the industry.
While most film festivals promote themselves as bigger and better every year, the 17th installment of the Busan International Film Festival is certainly living up to the hype. With the first non-Korean hosting the opening ceremony in the form of Chinese actress Tang Wei, with the festival spread out across 10 days (as opposed to 9 in 2011), and with 132 world and international premieres, BIFF 2012 has done an incredible job in cementing itself as one of the key film festivals throughout Asia. The popularity of this years installment is acutely visible, as online tickets sold out rapidly whilst the 20% allocation at the event disappeared by mid-morning.
There were a lot of events to be had during the opening weekend of BIFF 2012. While Haeundae Beach was the host for several interviews and performances, the screenings themselves also often sported Q & A sessions with directors, producers and/or the stars themselves to an unprecedented degree in BIFF’s history. It was also common to walk into or past coffee shops and see film-makers meeting and conversing, creating a very relaxed atmosphere with their approachable demeanor.
On Friday the 5th, a private party was held for those that work within the film industry as well as journalists, while the cast of Kim Ki-duk‘s latest feature, the incredibly successful Pieta (피에타), were also in attendance.
Actress Jo Yeo-jeong co-hosts the Lotte Red Secret Party
Saturday the 6th saw two events take place. The Lotte Night Party – Red Secret was hosted by The Servant (방자전) actress Jo Yeo-Jeong and gave awards to those who had contributed significantly over the past year. Among those receiving awards were notable screenwriters and actors, including host Jo Yeo-Jeong and A Muse (은교) actress Kim Go-eun (김고은). Also in attendance were actor/director Yoo Ji-tae (유지태) and his wife, as well as Ahn Seong-gi (안성기), and former BIFF director Kim Dong-ho (김동호). Yet the most memorable event at the Red Secret party was the arrival of now-global-megastar Psy, who performed several of his hits as well as the groundbreaking Gangnam Style to a rapturous crowd.
Psy performs for the emphatic crowd
The second party of the night was held by CJ Entertainment, and the style was markedly different.
Sistar performed some of their hits and dance routines to an adoring crowd
In terms of performers parody group The Wonderboys were amazing fun as well as providing some great music to warm up the crowd for the main act – Kpop superstars Sistar. The quartet sang some of their most famous hits accompanied by their signature dance moves that had the crowd chanting their names. In attendance were a variety of people involved in the film industry including REALies president Kim Ho-seong and renowned editor Lee Sang-min. There were also a whole host of film and television stars, including the cast of period drama-comedy Masquerade (광해, 왕이 된 남자) – Lee Byeong-heon (이병헌), Ryoo Seung-ryong (류승룡) and Jang Gwang (장광) – as well as TV star Kim Min-jong (김민종) and As One (코리아 )actor Lee Jong-suk (이종석).
Actress Go A-ra was a delight
However a genuine highlight of the night was actress Go Ah-ra (고아라) (star of Pacemaker (페이스메이커) and Papa (파파)), whowas incredibly kind, courteous and humble, giving genuine insight into the differences in working in the Korean film and television industries.
Sunday night saw the Korean Film Council (KOFIC) event, which saw fellow The Good, The Bad, The Weird (좋은 놈, 나쁜 놈, 이상한 놈)actors Song Kang-ho (송강호) and Jeong Woo-seong (정우성) attending, in addition to a myriad of other stars and members of the film industry.
And so ended the first weekend of the 2012 Busan International Film Festival. With the incredible selection of films, variety of events in which the public could have access to members of the film industry, and unprecedented popularity, it is difficult to imagine how BIFF will grow and improve in with future installments but one thing is for certain – the BIFF team will undoubtedly find a way.
The ‘erotic period drama’ has almost become a sub-genre unto itself. In recent years narratives have become increasingly more concerned with the sexual scandals of the ruling elite of eras gone by, and the impact such affairs have on the governance on the region. Rather than the sexless morality consistently promoted by the aristocracy, records clearly indicate a swathe of sexual liaisons which contemporary filmmakers seem determined to commit to celluloid.
The Servant, written and directed by Kim Dae-woo, certainly fits well into the category and while sexual sequences are initially misogynistic they are highly erotically charged, adding passionate depth to the central couple. Yet it is the incredible performance by Jo Yeo-jeong as dutiful albeit entrapped feminist Choon-hyang that makes The Servant such a compelling period drama, providing a poignant humanistic grounding set against a background of betrayal and corruption during the Joseon era.
During the Joseon Dynasty, a renowned crime lord (Kim Joo-hyeok (김주혁) recounts his path into the underworld to a scribe, with the intent to publish the autobiographical story and reveal the truth behind his descent into crime. Surprisingly the gangster’s tale begins as a humble servant, or Bang-ja (방자), in service of ambitious aristocrat Lee Mong-ryong (Ryu Seung-beom (류승범). Upon hearing of the beauty of a local woman named Choon-hyang (Jo Yeo-jeong), the daughter of a ‘gisaeng house’ owner, Mong-ryong visits to see for himself. Choon-hyang’s beauty has not been exaggerated, and Mong-ryong insists on meeting her in private in an attempt to woo her. Yet Bang-ja is also captivated by Choon-hyang, and so begins a rivalry between the master and servant for her affections. Tutored in the art of seduction by infamous Lothario Mr. Ma (Oh Dal-soo (오달수), Bang-ja successfully wins Choon-hyang’s heart yet in doing so unleashes a wave of ramifications that leaves all of them irrevocably changed.
The crime lord recounts his history as a servant (Bang-ja) to a scribe
The Servant is a re-imagining of the classic ‘Choon-hyang’s Tale’, told from the perspective of the titular servant Bang-ja, and as such is a much more male-centered narrative. This is both a blessing and a curse as while the shift detracts from the feminist perspective, Choon-hyang’s strength and passion are idolized through Bang-ja allowing for more poignant, romantic storytelling. Writer/director Kim Dae-woo’s interpretation also expresses a highly interesting variation on the tale as he has chosen to forgo the themes of chastity in favor of scandalous sexual liaisons, yet still foregrounds the issues of social status, tyrannical government officials, and women’s rights to produce a refreshing and socially aware take on the subject.
Kim Dae-woo’s screenplay – as well as his directorial style – does a wonderful job in exploring such concepts with a sexual twist, as the motivation behind all conversations and undertakings involves discussions of sex and sexual power. The relationship between Bang-ja and Choon-hyang wonderfully explores such dynamics as despite the romantic gestures, passionate physicality and development of love, their relationship can never be accepted due to social status adding genuinely moving melodramatic fatalism to the proceedings. Juxtaposed with their situation are the laughable attempts to woo Choon-hyang by aristocrat Mong-ryong, which serve as comical highlights as well as a source of frustration as despite his awkward masculinity Mong-ryong is by far the better suitor. Choon-hyang, and most notably her body, is continually used as a bargaining chip by those around her as she precariously walks the fine line between dutiful daughter/love interest and independent woman. Actress Jo Yeo-jeong is absolutely enthralling in the role as she conveys the unapologetic resolve to her family with strength and dignity yet still emphasizes her own desire to escape the rigid social hierarchy with passion and verve. Such is Jo Yeo-jeong’s skill and prowess that it’s difficult to imagine any other actress in the role, as she embodies the plight of Choon-hyang wholly and with sincerity.
While Jo Yeo-jeong’s performance is pivotal in making The Servant such an enthralling film, unfortunately a large part of the advertising campaign – and indeed, word of mouth – focused more prominently on her sexual scenes. The sequences themselves are highly erotic, arguably the most erotic within mainstream Korean cinema, as Jo Yeo-jeong’s incredibly glamorous figure is fully on display as she and co-star Kim Joo-hyeok commit themselves fully in conveying the utmost passion. Such scenes are, at least initially, highly problematic however as the first liaison is highly misogynistic and certainly falls into the category of sexual assault – perhaps even rape – a stark contrast with Kim Dae-woo’s prior sexual sequence in Untold Scandal. Yet despite this the resulting sexual sequences are not employed merely for titillation, as they convey the unbreakable passion and love between the central protagonists and infuse the relationship with romance and enchantment.
Choon-hyang falls for Bang-ja’s charms, leading to erotically charged sequences
Yet despite the fascinating exploration of the role of sexual power, The Servant falters during the final act. In his bid to offer a fresh take on the classic tale and offer a narrative twist to surprise audiences familiar with the story, Kim Dae-woo’s finale feels forced and contrived as he attempts to resolve all the narrative strands. While his technique allows the protagonists to come full circle, the tone is markedly different from prior events and frustratingly reduces the status of heroine Choon-hyang. That said, the impact of such melodramatic scenes linger long after the credits.
In terms of performance, Jo Yeo-jeong largely makes the entire film her own due to her tremendous prowess and charisma, although she is ably supported by her co-stars.
As the titular servant, Kim Joo-hyeok is highly effective as a man fully aware of his dire social status yet cannot control his impulses. He conveys his unique brand of dualism very well as he gallantly strives to help Choon-hyang or simply to be noticed, yet scant seconds later is begging for forgiveness for overstepping his social boundaries. Special mention must also be given to his scenes with infamous Casanova Mr. Ma, played by legendary supporting actor Oh Dal-soo. As a master in the art of seduction Oh Dal-soo is on perfect form and is incredibly humorous and heart-warming, offering comical interludes to the melodramatic scenes. As the teacher to Kim Joo-hyeok’s student, the pair play off each other effectively, discussing not only the techniques of seduction but also the ramifications.
Ryu Seung-beom is wonderfully sadistic as scholar Lee Mong-ryong, oozing villainy and moral corruption throughout the film. Yet the actor also skillfully conveys the sensitivity and frailty of Mong-ryong, particularly in the first act – ably accompanied by ‘feminised’ clothing and mise-en-scene – that places him in contrast with Bang-ja’s rugged masculinity well. As such Ryu Seung-beom portrays a more tragic ne’er-do-well, one poisoned by bitterness and jealousy.
Bang-ja and Choon-hyang are punished for their transgressions
Verdict:
The Servant is a wonderfully scandalous Joseon era melodrama, and a highly engaging and compelling reinterpretation of the classic tale. The themes of social inequality, sexual liaisons and women’s rights are expertly intertwined by writer/director Kim Dae-woo, while it is Jo Yeo-jeong’s seminal performance that remarkably emphasizes the plight of Choon-hyang. While elements of misogyny and a slightly contrived final act are apparent, The Servant is a powerfully seductive film about the power of sex and love in a bygone era.
Mark Twain’s seminal novel The Prince and the Pauper has long endured arguably for the manner in which it exposed the gulf between the upper and lower economic classes. The trials and tribulations that Prince Edward and Tom Canty undertake allow Twain to explore the vast lifestyle differences amongst the ‘haves’ and ‘have nots’, with each protagonist utilising their prior experiences to emphasise the hardships, and the unfairness, of both existences. In doing so the story has resonated with audiences of all socio-economic backgrounds, and in the contemporary financial climate, is perhaps even more relevant than ever.
With Masquerade, screenwriter Hwang Jo-yoon has adapted Twain’s novel to Joseon dynasty Korea, with the case of mistaken identity transferred between King Gwang-hae and a lowly comic actor. With a well-structured and highly entertaining script, incredibly competent directing from Choo Chang-min, and an enthralling set of performances from Lee Byeong-heon, Masquerade is without doubt one of the best films of the year and a testament to the quality of the period dramas Korea can produce.
King Gwang-hae (Lee Byeong-Heon (이병헌) is deeply unpopular in court, and as spies and threats surround him, becomes increasingly paranoid. Under a veil of secrecy, the King instructs his most loyal subjects to find a suitable surrogate who can impersonate him during the night should any assassination attempts be made against him. By chance, one such subject exists – a comic performer (Lee Byeong-Heon) who routinely mocks the King during his performances. Yet while the ruse works well initially, the King suddenly becomes critically ill and taken to a remote location to recover. Thus it falls to the actor, as well as the loyal Chief Advisor (Ryoo Seung-yong (류승룡) and Chief Eunuch (Jang Gwang (장광) to fool the members of the court until the true King can regain his health and return to secure his kingdom. However as time passes, the actor becomes increasingly aware of the unfairness and corruption inherent in the ruling elite and begins to introduce changes of his own.
King Gwang-hae becomes increasingly paranoid as attempts against his life are made
The aesthetics and cinematography within Masquerade are stunningly sumptuous, and are wonderfully realised by director Choo Chang-min. Indeed, the film opens with a montage emphasizing the extreme prestige of the royal lifestyle and the flamboyant colours inherent within, composed to convey the luxurious – and arrogant – nature of the ruling elite. The world of the Joseon dynasty is also recreated with incredible attention to detail ranging from the elegant clothing to crockery to the king’s lavish homestead, producing an enthrallingly convincing arena in which the exchanges and sedition take place. In setting up such narrative events screenwriter Hwang Jo-yoon borrows the catalyst from The King and the Clown as the King’s double receives unwanted attention through his critical portrayal of the King. There the similarities end however as once the King and the actor exchange places the discord in the court is explored through thoroughly different means, as the actor routinely, and naturally, comes face-to-face with issues that plague the kingdom yet have been ignored by the monarch. Surprisingly Masquerade also features an array of comical moments amongst the drama as the actor bumbles his way through the customs and etiquette of his new environment. Many of the jokes are crude and based on bodily humour, yet rather than a criticism this is actually an intriguing method of exploring the differences between the social classes and allows the audience to gain greater empathy with the actor who seemingly cannot perform the simplest of tasks without an entourage. In forging a greater alignment with the unwitting counterpart and his more middle/lower economic sensibilities, the various discussions on taxation, crime and punishment, and slavery achieve more prominent emotional resonance making the actor’s growing confidence and the enforcement of his own rulings to save the Joseon people – despite the awareness of his it could bring his demise – a source of great nationalistic inspiration and strength.
Instrumental in such a portrayal is the excellent performance from Lee Byeong-heon. He conveys the arrogance, stoicism and ruthlessness of King Gwang-hae incredibly well and stands in stark contrast to his astoundingly portrayal as the foolhardy yet well-meaning doppelganger actor. Lee Byeong-heon’s comic timing is impressive as he conveys the humorous moments within the narrative with deft skill and, with convincing clumsiness, faltering through all manner of routines that never fail to inspire laughter. Yet where Lee Byeong-heon’s performance really shines is through the evolution of the actor from an unwitting clown to a man of dignity and stature, the progression of which is wonderfully subtle and well-paced and never feeling in the least bit contrived. The manner in which the protagonist evolves is great, and the internal conflict that appears over his face when making decisions that will effect the court and the denizens of the entire kingdom, in the knowledge it will result in his eventual execution, is remarkable to behold. If there is criticism to laid, however, it’s in the protagonist’s relationship with the Queen, although this is no fault of either Lee Byeong-heon nor Han Hyo-joo (한효주). The Queen merely exists to provide the counterpart with a beautiful damsel in distress to save, and the Queen’s function in the narrative doesn’t extend beyond the stereotypical role. That said, the exchanges that occur between the Queen and the actor do not detract from the narrative and are enjoyable and well-performed.
The King and the impostor come face-to-face
As previously mentioned, Lee Byeong-heon is phenomenal in his dual roles as both the King and the impostor, and it would be difficult to imagine that he will not be honoured with – at the very least – an acting award nomination for his incredible performance.
Yet Lee Byeong-heon is also surrounded by an eclectic group of established actors who also conduct their roles with incredible skill.
Ryoo Seung-yong is simply wonderful as the stoically loyal Chief Advisor. The actor coveys the Chief Advisor’s commitment to the kingdom with the utmost competency and sincerity, yet is also adept in comic timing as his exchanges with the King’s counterpart are consistently laugh-out-loud moments that also simultaneously serve to highlight the change in attitude towards each other. As with other features of the narrative, the subtle manner in which their relationship alters is highly entertaining as the Advisor initially admonishes the clown for his foolishness only to come to admire his tenacity alongside the audience, and Ryoo Seung-yong does an incredible job of conveying the evolution.
Similarly the Chief Eunuch, played by Jang Gwang, also expresses the change in attitude yet also serves the role of ‘the helper’ in enlightening the King’s counterpart on the issues facing the kingdom. As the more maternal of the two advisors, Jang Gwang is excellent as the subservient member of the court and brings an understated emotional core to the film, particularly in the early stages.
As the Queen, Han Hyo-joo is competent throughout. Unfortunately for her the role is generally underdeveloped and stereotypical of a beautiful woman in need of saving, yet she performs with grace and dignity.
Also worthy of mention is the loyal Captain, performed by Kim In-kwon. Initially a somewhat overshadowed character, the Captain takes a prominent position in the final act with Kim In-kwon more than adequately portraying the loyalty of a devoted man with emotion and heart.
The long suffering Queen begins to notice the differences in the new ‘King’
Verdict:
Masquerade is a wonderfully realized and incredibly entertaining film, one that uses the basis of The Prince and the Pauper and rapidly makes it into a uniquely Korean period production. Alongside the very well-written, well-paced script is visually stunning direction and, while it somewhat lacks in scale, it conveys the colourful regal elegance with striking skill. Yet it is Lee Byeong-heon who gives the film heart with his exceptional dual performances that serve to emphasis the gulf between the classes in society and the injustices that, no-matter the era, plague the ruling elite. Masquerade is undoubtedly one of the best films of the year and is highly, highly recommended.
The promotional stand for Masquerade (광해, 왕이 된 남자)
On September the 10th in Yongsan, a special English subtitled premiere was held for soon-to-be released period drama Masquerade (광해, 왕이 된 남자). A special stand was placed in the foyer of CGV cinema to promote the event, which featured posters and large displays of images from the film, as well as the CGV staff who all wore t-shirts emblazoned with the film title. The event was hosted by the delightful President Kim Ho-sung (김호성) from REALIES Pictures, one of the main production company behind the film, who was kind enough to introduce the film to the audience. President Kim informed those present that the king in Masquerade himself, Lee Byeong-heon (이병현), was due to appear and introduce the film but was called away that very morning to Montreal to shoot Red 2 with Bruce Willis and company.
President Kim Ho-sung and I
Once the introduction by President Kim had finished, the audience settled down to watch Masquerade. The early reports of the quality of the film have not been exaggerated as the film is an incredibly well produced period drama featuring sumptuous visuals as well as an excellent performance by Lee Byeong-heon; indeed, the celebrated actor’s nuanced acting prowess and charisma took the audience through a variety of emotions from laughing out loud to stunned silence.
President Kim introduced Masquerade to an excited audience
As the credits began to role Masquerade received rapturous applause, with several audience members congratulating President Kim as they exited the cinema. The praise is well-deserved as Masquerade is certainly one of the best Korean films of the year, and is highly, highly recommended.
The review for Masquerade will be online in the next few days, and is on general release in Korea this weekend.
The Korean education system is a brutal, arduous regime for students; in addition to the standard school hours they must attend, students also frequent numerous private academies of various subjects during the evening, slotting in further educational events whenever spare time allows. Understandably the stress and pressure imposed by the education culture – and more specifically, parents – often leads to depression and ill health, at best. Escalating matters further are the tales of corruption as parents attempt to secure the future of their offspring through bribery and ‘favors’ of teachers and officials.
Death Bell (고死: 피의 중간고사) attempts to take the grueling education system as the basis for horror, as a mysterious killer/ghost slowly murders the students of a special class. While the social commentary underpinning the film is an interesting cultural examination, director Chang (real name Yoon Hong-seung (윤홍승) has crafted a vapid, uninspiring horror film that appeals to the lowest common denominator through its ‘torture’ porn aesthetic and hyper-editing over genuine chills.
During the exam season, the students are frantically studying in an attempt to be the best in the school and secure a place in a good university. The pressure is intense and students begin to crack under the strain, yet kind teacher Hwang Chang-wook (Lee Beom-soo (이범수) tries to reassure his students; in his rival class, however, strict teacher Choi So-yeong (Yoon Jeong-hee 윤정희) pushes for the best. At the end of the exam season the relieved students prepare for vacation, yet the news of a ‘special class’ with a rival school forces the elite students to stay behind for further studies. However just as the session is due to begin, a missing student appears on TV in a death trap. The killer gives instructions that the students need to complete a series of challenges if they are to survive, and so begins a battle of wits as the students attempt to solve riddles and find the murderer before they are all killed.
The students must solve riddles to save their classmates
While a large number of horror films require the audience to suspend their disbelief in logic, Death Bell ranks amongst the worst examples of the genre for pushing it to the limits. When murdered bodies appear, no-one looks in the direction it arrived; when voices and images are broadcast, no-one thinks to look for the source; in the search for the killer, teachers regularly leave students alone to fend for themselves. Additionally, in the attempt to be ‘Saw in a high school’, Death Bell features puzzles for students to solve in a bid to save their companions yet they and their solutions are generally pointless. The writers endeavour to add meaning to the riddles and to apply a time limit to create tension, but the execution is flat and the answers are quite ridiculous, especially as student I-na (Nam Gyoo-ri (남규리) almost immediately knows who the murders are related to.
Yet horror films aimed at a teenage audience often place chilling scenes above narrative logic, and in this regard Death Bell is also limp. Bizarrely the film features ‘torture porn’ scenes such as dripping hot candle wax on a victim, and in the oddly superfluous – and unsubtly symbolic – opening sequence featuring zombified students, horror and menstrual blood are misogynistically conveyed as one and the same. In one scene, a female student is hoisted by one leg exposing her panties for no particular reason before receiving a death not in-keeping with the other murders. The female students are routinely ‘punished’ for being intelligent and, as with American horrors from the 1970s/80s, for being curious about the opposite gender. In all cases, director Chang never builds tension effectively and instead relies on rapid camera movement and editing to provide thrills, yet as it is often difficult to see anything on screen the results are generally less than impressive.
Death Bell does become interesting in the final act however, as social commentary involving the Korean education system and the roles of parents and teachers are inserted and portrayed. This late but welcome addition depicts the extent to which high grades play in Korean culture, and the lengths to which all involved will go to secure them in the highly competitive system. Unfortunately as such themes are introduced so late the potential is never truly expanded, yet it does provide some much needed impetus to events as well as tying up narrative loose ends.
Teacher Hwang Chang-wook desperately tries to protect his students
As teacher Hwang Chang-wook, Lee Beom-soo is the central protagonist of the film and does well to keep the pace of the film moving and involving. His role is highly limited due to awfully vapid narrative, forcing him to be a reactionary figure in moments that lack logic, yet the actor performs competently and genuinely works hard to make the the premise and his situation believable. He ultimately fails due to the nonsensical script, but his effort is commendable.
The films other two lead roles fall to Yoon Jeong-hee as strict teacher Choi So-yeong and Nam Gyoo-ri student I-na. Both roles are woefully underdeveloped and leave the actresses with little to do save to convey the stereotypes they are constructed as – Choi So-yeong as a stoic disciplinarian and I-na as a vulnerable schoolgirl interested in boys. Both roles add precious little to the narrative, but the actresses competently act the stereotypes ascribed to them.
Are the corridors of the school haunted by a ghost?
Verdict:
Death Bell is a dull, vacuous horror film that attempts to be ‘Saw in a high school’ but is ultimately a bland excuse to depict torture porn on teenagers. Hindering the scares further are the kinetic camera movements and editing that continually frustrate. While Lee Beom-soo attempts to make the film compelling, and the late introduction of key cultural themes try to elevate the film, Death Bell is a hollow, soulless example of the genre and is for enthusiasts only.
When Top Gun was released in 1986, Tom Cruise and company presented aerial combat in thrilling fashion alongside a bombastic soundtrack. Despite the shallow story, the rapid high-octane action sequences, muscular homoerotic camaraderie, and zealous nationalism succinctly tapped in to the ’80s zeitgeist, resulting in an unprecedented level of applications for the American Air Force and rocketing sales of aviator sunglasses.
R2B: Return to Base (R2B: 리턴투베이스) has been marketed as ‘the Korean Top Gun‘ and rightly so as the film borders on plagiarism with scenes, characters and events almost directly ‘lifted’ from Tony Scott’s effort. Yet R2B: Return to Base has precious little of the charm of the original, only earning the title of ‘action movie’ in the final 20 minutes largely due to a reliance on TV drama-esque stereotypes and stock conflicts for much of the film. That said, the aerial sequences are indeed thrilling regardless of the logic – and physics – defying feats.
Cocky pilot Jeong Tae-hoon (Rain/Jung Ji-oon (비/정지훈) is unceremoniously kicked out of his squadron for performing dangerous aerial techniques in front of the public. Demoted into military ranks, Tae-hoon meets beautiful mechanic Yoo Se-yeong (Sin Se-kyeong (신세경) and new recruit Ji Seok-hyeon (Lee Jung-seok (이종석), as well as forming a rivalry with stoic Lee Cheol-hee (Yu Joon-sang (유준상). As friendships and camaraderie builds on base, a new threat presents itself in North Korea where a coup threatens to destabilize the peace between the nations. With tensions escalating, it’s up to Tae-hoon and Cheol-hee to set aside their grudges and work together to save South Korea from the machinations of a power-hungry Northern General and his pilots.
Tae-hoon is demoted due to his arrogance and inability to follow orders
Surprisingly, for a film marketed on its action sequences, R2B: Return to Base features few sequences that excite. Aside from a fun opening that introduces hot-shot pilot Tae-hoon, the real action takes place only during the last 20 minutes during an exhilarating sequence where a rogue North Korean pilot descends on the Yeouido district in central Seoul and an aerial assault on a Northern base. Director Kim Dong-weon (김동원) clearly used the majority of the budget on such high-octane events, conveying the speed and danger of the dogfights convincingly and effectively. The aerial battle above Seoul is the genuine highlight of the film as bullets fly and windows shatter on iconic landmarks in wonderful use of slow-motion, producing an entertainingly horrifying attack on the capital city.
However for the vast majority of its running time R2B: Return to Base plays out akin to a low-grade TV drama. All the stereotypes are present with frustrating clarity. The hero Tae-hoon has obviously been modeled on Tom Cruise’s Maverick, yet Rain/Jung Ji-hoon doesn’t have the same charisma to make the protagonist likable. Maverick’s arrogance and swagger fits perfectly with American cultural values; Tae-hoon is generally an insolent, selfish fool that defies orders for the sake of it. His love interest, in the form of Se-yeong, fares worse as she is reduced to yet another beautiful-yet-damaged female role, a woman in need of rescuing from herself despite her talents. Outside of the main two protagonists are an array of supporting cast members, so much so that precious little time is given to establish them as worthy of inclusion. Cheol-hee arguably receives the most screen-time as the rival, although his character development is stunted which dilutes the antagonism with Tae-hoon. Novice Seok-hyeon is present mainly for comedy value as he screams and faints during flights, providing entertainment. Comedy is also present in the form of two workmen fulfilling military service, but after featuring in a handful of quips they unceremoniously disappear altogether. Other co-pilots feature in the film such as Oh Yoo-jin (Lee Ha-na (이하나) and partner Jo Tae-bong (Jeong Kyung-ho (정경호), but again their inclusion is a limited attempt to add melodrama to the proceedings. All the of the characters are involved in stock narrative events that help to establish relationships but do little to propel the plot, which is conveyed as an afterthought.
Feisty Yu Se-yeong is the most talented mechanic on the base
One of the amazing features of Korean cinema is the continual representation of North Korean adversaries in three-dimensional, semi-sympathetic roles. R2B: Return to Base opts for the American approach of ‘good vs. evil’, barely giving the Northern enemies faces let alone impetus. This would perhaps not be as bad – it was a feature of Top Gun – if not for their last minute inclusion within the narrative, as suddenly a rogue Northern general launches an unprovoked attack on Seoul seemingly from out of nowhere. The assault does allow for the inclusion of Korean nationalism and masculine bravado however as the American military attempts to dominate the retaliation to embarrassing effect, as well as providing Tae-hoon and Cheol-hee with something to do other than bicker.
In terms of performance, Sin Se-kyeong is arguably the most prominent as mechanic Se-yeong. The actress has little room to extend herself given the highly stereotyped nature of the role, yet she performs well. The chemistry between her and co-star Rain/Jung Ji-hoon however is entirely absent. Rain/Jung Ji-hoon competently performs the role of arrogant pilot Tae-hoon but unfortunately he is also hindered but the script which portrays him as an immature fool rather than overly confident, a feature which his charisma tries and fails to overcome.
The aerial dogfights are thrilling as pilots battle over Seoul
Verdict:
R2B: Return to Base desperately wants to be ‘the Korean Top Gun‘, and succeeds in as much as containing some highly thrilling and entertaining aerial sequences that convey the speed and danger of aerial dogfights. Yet such sparse combat scenes cannot hide the vacuous, TV drama-esque narrative and stereotypes that dominate most of the running time, as well as the lack of threat featured by the caricatured North Korean adversaries. With the last minute inclusion of masculine bravado and nationalism, R2B: Return to Base rises out of its quagmire yet still fails to obtain its full potential.
Expectations were always going to be impossibly high for director Kang Je-gyu’s (강제규) follow up to Taegukgi. The 2004 film was revolutionary at the time, combining kinetic war scenes, an orchestral score, and strong nationalistic sentiment through the (somewhat allegorical) story of two brothers divided by civil war. Yet after a seven year hiatus the director chose to return to the war genre, bolstered by an enormous 28 billion won budget and the return of Jang Dong-gun (장동건) alongside a cast of international stars. Furthermore, his project was to be based on the mysteriously true story of the discovery of a Korean soldier during the D-Day landings in Normandy, an event still unexplained to this day. Curiosity, and expectations, naturally increased.
My Way (마이 웨이) continues the themes that have become a staple of the genre, including the notion of brotherhood and the brutality of war, albeit this time on an international scale. The grand scope and focus on historical events results in a lack of character development for the entire cast, and as such became a disappointment at the box office in Korea. However My Way boasts some of the most gloriously horrifying war sequences from Kang Je-gyu, whose vision and stylization have notably evolved from his prior films. Yet despite the spectacle, the lack of characterization and emphasis on more personal, intimate conflicts amounts to an attractive but somewhat hollow war film.
During the occupation of Korea by Japanese forces in the 1920s and ’30s, tensions are high on both sides with riots and assassinations commonplace. Despite the crackdown on the freedom of native Koreans, a rivalry emerges between two talented marathon athletes; a poor Korean rickshaw driver named Joon-sik, and rich Japanese student Tatsuo (Joe Odagiri). After Joon-sik wins a competition intended to prove the superiority of the Japanese, a corrupt ruling disqualifies the Korean athlete and rioting ensues. For their crimes, all involved in the riot are forced to become conscripts in the Japanese military. Sent to the frontline, Joon-sik and Tatsuo experience the sheer brutality of war on a variety of continents and through numerous armies, allaying their rivalry and instead forging the bonds of brotherhood.
Following a riot after a corrupt marathon decision, Joon-sik and his friends are forced to become conscripts in the Japanese army
My Way is a stunningly realized film, recreating the landscape of 1930s Korea as well as Asian and European battlegrounds with incredible realism. The mise-en-scene is wondrous throughout the film and deeply absorbing, from scenes such as Joon-sik racing throughout the streets of Korea with a rickshaw, to a grueling winter imprisoned in a Russian concentration camp, to being caught in a crossfire involving the Nazis. The variety of events and landscapes are genuine highlights of My Way as Kang Je-gyu showcases his talent in recreating historical scenes with superb attention to detail, moving from one location to the next with impetus. The camerawork and frenetic action sequences are exquisitely brutal, genuinely conveying the horrific incidents soldiers were forced to endure and as the landscape and military units continually change such sequences never become tiresome or dull. Yet therein also lies the greatest difficulty of the film, as while great emphasis is placed on moving the protagonists from Korea to Normandy the characterization is an afterthought, making the harsh war scenes stunning but without an emotional core. Joon-sik is very much the centre of the film, and while likable, has little-to-no reason to want to return home other than to continue running competitively. His journey is thus undermined, although his Korean compatriots suffer far worse as they are barely given an introduction before they are ruthlessly dispatched by the enemy in trying to create dramatic tension. The narrative does deserve credit for broaching the subject of brotherhood between Korea and Japan through Joon-sik and Tetsuo, attempting to convey a form of reconciliation and alleviating tensions between the two nations. But again, the pace of the narrative allows precious little space for their brotherhood to develop, which is of acute importance given their mutual hatred at the start of the film. As such the intimacy between Joon-sik and Tetsuo is (quite romantically) melodramatic and uplifting, yet also contrived.
The narrative does however explore the interchangeability of bloodthirsty inhumanity during the course of the film, and the corruption that power seemingly inevitably brings. Given the tumultuous history between Korea, Japan and China, depicting scenes of Japanese brutality are certainly nothing new; however Kang Je-gyu portrays the forces not only as barbaric but downright fanatical as soldiers are ordered on suicide missions for the glory of the empire or shot upon retreat. What may seem like the stirring of Korean nationalistic sentiment is allayed by the contrasts with Russian and German troops, all of whom convey the same ideological stance during battles. My Way blurs the boundaries of nationality in conveying the merciless nature of warfare, portraying all parties as equally accountable. The representation of German troops is quite perplexing however, as the kind, relaxed and joyous soldiers stands in stark contrast to the annals of history.
Joon-sik and Tatsuo find themselves working in a Russian concentration camp
As Korean marathon runner Joon-sik, Jang Dong-gun (장동건) gives a highly capable performance although he is never stretched in the role. The actor conveys all the necessary emotions during the horrors of war and attempts to provide a heart to the film despite the limitations of the script. He is highly likable and attempts to shine a light of humanity during scenes of war as the narrative intends, but Jang Dong-gun’s presence is generally to give focus to the impressive battle sequences that rage around him. While battles commence on land, sea and air in spectacular fashion, the actor is usually running through the middle of the conflict giving scale and someone to root for as he takes the audience into the midst of war.
Interestingly it is Japanese actor Joe Odagiri as student/marathon runner Tatsuo that has the greatest character arc in My Way. From angry student to fanatically patriotic military officer to brother, the actor gives a competent performance throughout although as with his co-star Joe Odagiri is not stretched in the role. The film is very much his story due to his character evolution, and provides an interesting counter-balance to those featuring Jang Dong-gun.
As for famed Chinese actress Fan Bing-bing, it is a wonder why she choose to be part of the film at all given her incredibly short time on camera as Chinese sniper Sirai. She performs admirably, although she is ultimately just a device to spur the narrative forward.
On the beaches of Normandy, Joon-sik and Tatsuo do all they can to survive
Verdict:
My Way is an incredible spectacle of a war film, with continually stunning sequences of war and featuring breathtaking cinematography in a variety of landscapes. Director Kang Je-gyu has clearly used the enormous budget to produce some of the most effective scenes of battle in recent memory, with the scope and scale allowing his vision to evolve tremendously. That said, the focus on visuals results in a lack of characterization making the depiction of war rather deprived of an emotional core, and audience interest by extension. My Way is a visually impressive, although somewhat hollow, tour de force and a notable entry in the war genre.
Gangster ‘epics’ are not films that merely present bad men doing bad things; on the contrary, the ‘epicness’ of the films are due to the ways in which producers tell the story within the wider context of the socio-cultural period, conveying a national uniqueness alongside the themes of brotherhood, betrayal, and the escalation of violence. While there are numerous contemporary directors such as Guy Ritchie, Francis Ford Coppola and Michael Mann that fit this paradigm, the most notable figure in this regard is the legendary Martin Scorsese who besets his conflicted protagonists with problems from all sides, masterfully building tension to a poignant crescendo.
With Nameless Gangster (범죄와의 전쟁: 나쁜놈들 전성시대) writer/director Yoon Jong-bin (윤종빈) seemingly attempts to emulate Scorsese, featuring a similar rags-to-riches and fall-from-grace narrative structure. Yet there the comparisons end as while the story is distinctly Korean and multi-layered, and the directing competent, the lack of flair, tension and an over-abundance of secondary characters halt Nameless Gangster from achieving excellence. However, alongside the sumptuous costume and set design the film sports a fascinating perspective on the evolution of crime in Korea, and the struggle to combat corruption in contemporary society.
In the month of October, 1990, President Roh Tae-woo launches a crackdown on corruption and crime in South Korea, giving the police and prosecutors special powers to arrest those involved in the criminal underworld. For the port city of Busan this presents an acute problem, and as gangsters are forced to lie low the incarceration of infamous Choi Ik-hyeon (Choi Min-sik (최민식) is an enormous victory for prosecutor Jo Beom-seok (Kwak Byeong-gyoo (곽병규). Yet the criminal simply refuses to admit any wrongdoing despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary. In order to fully uncover the truth, the journey must begin back in 1982 when Ik-hyeon was a mere corrupt customs official, exploring the relationships that were forged – particularly with notorious criminal Choi Hyeong-bae (Ha Jeong-woo (하정우) – during the golden age of the gangster lifestyle in Korea.
Ik-hyeon settles into his ‘gangster’ role with ease
Nameless Gangster is surprisingly less a film about gangsters and more a film about the evolution of corruption in Korean society, personified through smarmy central protagonist Ik-hyeon. Originating as a corrupt customs official, Ik-hyeon – and the entire customs department – are directly in the firing line of the government crackdown on crime, the penalty for which is placed squarely on Ik-hyeon’s shoulders. Yet despite being a dishonest and unscrupulous reprobate, Ik-hyeon is quite a charismatic and lovable rogue due to the performance of acting legend Choi Min-sik. Bizarrely Choi Min-sik exaggerates and overacts the character throughout the film but incredibly manages to convey this as part of Ik-hyeon’s personality, an appealingly silly man who constantly oversteps his boundaries to the chagrin of all involved. The subtly seductive performance blurs the lines between the gangster and comedy genres as Ik-hyeon simultaneously charms and smites those around him, juxtaposing laugh-out-loud moments with brutality, reminiscent of scenes within Scorsese’s Goodfellas from which the film borrows heavily. However these moments never quite achieve the shocking impact they should. Writer/director Yoon Jong-bin (윤종빈) writes the scenes incredibly well and has highly competent vision, yet somehow fails to capture the tension that such scenes demand, with the slow build of suspense and apprehension curiously absent. Violence, too, is also problematic within Nameless Gangster through the lack of escalation. While it would be absurd to expect Americanized gun crime within such a distinctly Korean gangster film the repetitive nature of the clashes, commonly involving baseball bats and glass bottles, quickly becomes bland and lessens the severity such confrontations should convey.
Violence enters the narrative through the introduction of Choi Hyeong-bae, a lifelong gangster with whom Ik-hyeon shares common ancestry. It is through their relationship that Nameless Gangster truly shines, as the bumbling Ik-hyeon forges ties with an incredible variety of powerful strangers due to mutual heritage – and seniority – in order to create a criminal empire, constructing a fascinating insight into the multifaceted nature of corruption in Korea. Director Yoon Jong-bin’s narrative strength lies in the comically awe-inspiring Ik-hyeon as he weasels his way into the good graces of politicians, law-makers and international crime syndicates, resulting in a meteoric rise from crooked customs official to one of the most dangerous gangsters in Busan. While Ik-hyeon provides the connections it is Hyeong-bae, wonderfully performed by Ha Jeong-woo, who commands the muscle. Hyeong-bae is stoic, authoritative and deadly, conveying restrained violence and potential danger with every movement and gesture, the true gangster of the partnership. The stark contrast between the two, as well as Ik-hyeon’s unerring manner for overstepping boundaries, provides the catalyst for the introduction of a third party in the form of rival gangster Kim Pan-ho (Jo Jin-woong (조진웅). In another nod to past gangster epics in the form of Scorsese-esque triumvirates, Pan-ho ultimately fails to be a convincing protagonist due to serious underdevelopment, undermining him as a credible threat both within the narrative and to consummate gangster Hyeong-bae.
Hyeong-bae is the consummate gangster – stoic, powerful, and deadly
With a strong narrative and competent direction, Nameless Gangster also benefits from having sumptuous costume and set design. The world of 1980s Busan is eloquently portrayed and wonderfully realized, absorbing the audience within the chic decor and lifestyle from humble homesteads to bars to casinos.
In terms of performance both Choi Min-sik and Ha Jeong-woo play off each other well, with the latter giving the stand-out portrayal as hard-boiled gangster Hyeong-bae. The stoicism of the character coupled with the restrained threat of violence is an absolute joy and contributes greatly in conveying tension, which is sadly underutilized within the narrative and direction. Choi Min-sik, on the other hand, is highly charismatic as Ik-hyeon despite being a tad overzealous throughout. The actor conveys the foolish nature of the man incredibly well, yet the scenes in which Ik-hyeon demands power and authority unbecoming to him that are the most revealing, conveying a man desperate for control in a universe which resolutely refuses him.
The rest of the cast are used in supportive roles and are either generally underdeveloped, such as gangster Pan-ho and prosecutor Jo Beom-seok, or simply redundant, such as club Manager Yeo (Kim Hye-eun (김혜은) or brother-in-law Seo-bang Kim (Ma Dong-seok (마동석). This is unfortunate, as had the roles been greater (or jettisoned) the web of threat and deception would undoubtedly be much stronger as in Ryoo Seung-wan‘s The Unjust; as it stands, they are rather limp additions in an otherwise well-written screenplay about societal corruption.
Through creating links and contacts, Ik-hyeon helps expand the criminal empire
Verdict:
Nameless Gangster is a compelling and fascinating film about the nature, and evolution, of crime and corruption in Korea. With an absorbing narrative, wonderful set and costume design, and entertaining performances, the film is generally let down by the lack of tension and suspense, as well as underdeveloped characters. That said, Nameless Gangster is an enjoyableyarn of power and social relationships in a country still struggling to shake off the ramifications of the war on crime.
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