Reviews – Page 6

January 22, 2015February 3, 2015

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The President’s Last Bang (그때 그사람들) – ★★★★☆

The President’s Last Bang (그때 그사람들)

The date is October 26th, 1979 – the day of ‘strongman’ Park Chung-hee’s assassination. Following almost 18 years of brutal military rule and with a growing call for democracy by Korean citizens, Park, and those in his regime, are concerned. A dinner event is arranged in the Blue House for select chief members of staff including KCIA Director Kim Jae-kyu (Baek Yoon-Sik (백윤식). As alcohol flows and Japanese songs are sung, the talk of politics and conflict infuriates Jae-gyu. Briefly excusing himself from the event, Director Kim confers with Chief Agent Ju (Han Seok-gyu (한석규) and decide that tonight will be Park Chung-hee’s last. With a select group of KCIA agents at the ready, the stage is set for the assassination that will change the course of Korea forever.

KCIA Direcor Kim confers with his staff as they plan the assassination of Park Chun-hee

The President’s Last Bang is a brilliantly biting and incredibly funny political satire by director Im Sang-soo (임상수), who takes one of the darkest and most controversial periods of recent Korean history and crafts a highly provocative and compelling exploration of the assassination.

To this day Park Chung-hee remains a very divisive figure in Korean politics, and the film immediately generated a deluge of controversy upon release in 2005. Park Ji-man, the former leader’s son, ordered a law suit against the film that resulted in the removal of nearly 4 minutes of screen time, and was released nationally and internationally in this manner. The scenes featured real documentary footage of democracy protests and Park’s funeral which bookended the film, providing context for the events depicted. Their removal (and replacement with a blank black screen in protest) ultimately generate a less effective viewing experience. However the court’s decision was overturned in 2006 on the grounds of the rights to freedom of expression, although the production company was still ultimately punished for defamation against the late authoritarian ruler. While the verdict was a victory against censorship, the case also pointed to Park’s enduring legacy within the Korean political system through the power and influence wielded by his children – including his daughter, current President Park Geun-hye – an irony that was not lost on many political commentators.

Much of the controversy centres around the representation of the authoritarian ruler as a Japan-loving, democracy-hating, womanising, cowardly old man. Director Im Sang-soo solidified his reputation through exploring issues of amorality within the upper echelons of society, and with The President’s Last Bang he is absolutely superb in articulating such concerns through representing the corruption associated with the Park Chung-hee administration.

Kim Jae-gyu prepares to change the course of Korea forever

Through scenes depicting Park’s late night partying and penchant for young girls, his love of Japanese culture to the point of employing the language and songs (a real issue for many Koreans following years of Japanese occupation), and the startling justification of his regime through comparisons with Cambodia, Park is constructed as a reprehensible wretch and a fool. As such his assassination is represented as well-deserved, yet through the inclusion of satire it is also darkly hilarious.

Taking a cue from the multitude of conflicting statements regarding Kim Jae-gyu’s motivations and the event itself, the film effectively employs dark comedy to make scenes of death and mayhem incredibly funny. There is conflicting evidence to suggest Kim’s plan was either planned or spontaneous, which the film wonderfully spins into a comical farce as the members of the KCIA fumble and blunder their way through the assassination, as well as in their later attempts to conceal the truth. Actor Baek Yoon-Sik shines throughout such sequences as the KCIA director Kim Jae-gyu due to his deadpan expressions and comic timing, with events escalating so quickly beyond control that his transitions between agitation, stoicism and laissez-faire attitude frequently induce laughter.

Yet while the first half of the film is fuelled with energy, suspense and comedy as the impending assassination draws near, the film loses much of its zeal following Park’s death. The narrative shifts gear in bleaker territory as it accommodates the political ramifications of the event, while the subdued tone is also undoubtedly derived from audience awareness of what follows the investigation, though it’s to director Im’s credit that he still manages to effectively mine comedy from the fraught situation. The combination of real-life controversy and dark humour is not easy to amalgamate yet The President’s Last Bang succeeds superbly and makes for highly compelling viewing.

Dark comedy is employed to great effect throughout The President’s Last Bang

Verdict:

The President’s Last Bang is a brilliantly dark, highly controversial political satire depicting the assassination of military ‘strongman’ Park Chung-hee. Director Im Sang-soo is incredibly insightful and witty as he explores the amorality and corruption of Park and his administration, superbly employing laughter-inducing dark humour as events transpire. While the film loses some of its impetus in the second half, director Im has crafted a highly provocative and compelling exploration of one of the darkest periods in recent Korean history.

★★★★☆

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January 14, 2015February 5, 2015

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Secret Sunshine (밀양) – ★★★★★

Secret Sunshine (밀양)

Following her husband’s untimely death, Seoulite Sin-ae (Jeon Do-yeon (전도연) decides to fulfill the late man’s greatest wish by relocating to his hometown of Miryang and raise their son Jun. Initially the countryside town seems an odd place, yet Sin-ae quickly settles in by making acquaintances with overly friendly mechanic Jong-chan (Song Kang-ho (송강호) and setting up a piano academy. The newly single-mum also reveals her intentions to develop an area of land to the residents, and begins scouting with assistance Jong-chan in tow. Yet when a further terrible tragedy occurs, Sin-ae’s very sanity is tested as she struggles to cope in the aftermath. As she turns to any available source to alleviate her trauma, Jong-chan continues to try and help.

Sin-ae and Jun relocate to Miryang and meet friendly mechanic Jong-chan

Secret Sunshine is an absolutely exceptional film and a true modern classic of Korean cinema.

Throughout his relatively small but undeniably brilliant filmography, director Lee Chang-dong (이창동) has keenly and insightfully explored a multitude of social discourses that afflict contemporary Korea. With Secret Sunshine the auteur examines the nature of grief and psychological instability following devastating trauma, as well as the ideology of small country towns alongside the devout embrace of religion. It’s extremely weighty material yet director Lee deftly constructs both the narrative and the visual aesthetic with such an assured poetic confidence that the themes combine seamlessly, as well as expressing a level of wisdom and awareness many other filmmakers can only dream of. The result is a drama that is a simultaneously beautiful and incredibly intense viewing experience, one which impresses and inspires on multiple levels with its insightful poignancy, while also exuding a power that resonates long after the credits roll.

The intensity and emotional magnitude of Secret Sunshine ironically lies in the subtle grace within which the story is told. The social-realism director Lee employs is as potent as ever, yet with Secret Sunshine he seems to remove any and all directorial flourishes. The approach is incredibly effective as the absence of dramatic devices allows the story to simply stand on its own merits and forces the audience to engage intellectually, emotionally, and morally with the topics being explored, as well as demand that they draw their own conclusions from the debates put forth. As such the film is a truly immersive experience that is ingenious in its simplicity yet phenomenally affecting.

Following a tragic incident, Sin-ae spirals into grief and despair

Chiefly, the debates examined in Secret Sunshine are centered around the general negligence involved in suffering, and the role of religion in society. In taking a step away from employing potentially manipulative cinematic devices, director Lee quite naturally allows the issues to expose themselves for the ignorance and hypocrisy inherent within. The manner in which he does so is fascinating, as within the context of Shin-ae’s attempts to reconcile her grief he simply applies the logic of the ideology in question so that it ultimately ridicules itself. For example, Shin-ae’s internal conflict involving the notion of forgiveness is potently used to express the pretense involved in religion and in revealing the nature of grief, as well as articulating the narrow-minded sensibilities of the local community. The remarkable story itself holds the compulsion of debate, and director Lee is masterful in letting it speak volumes.

Yet Secret Sunshine would lack all conviction if not for the exquisite performance of Jeon Do-yeon. Jeon’s breathtaking, captivating turn as the grief-stricken mother earned her the Best Actress award at the Cannes Film Festival, cementing her position as one of the most highly regarded film talents in Korean cinematic history. It is difficult to overstate just how incredible the performance is, as Jeon’s uncanny ability to inhabit a role rather than act it reaches unbelievable levels of sincerity and poignancy, absolutely deserving every ounce of praise and acclaim. From the moment Secret Sunshine begins it gradually becomes clear that Jeon infuses the character of Sin-ae with psychological instability, with the manner in which she transitions into different realms of neuroses following a series of terrible events a masterclass in acting prowess. Jeon Do-yeon’s performance is so mesmerizing that co-star Song Kang-ho is largely overshadowed, although he also provides a highly compelling role as overly-kind yet somewhat unnerving mechanic Jong-chan.

Sin-ae’s fragile psychological disposition leads to looking for the secret in the sunshine

Verdict:

Secret Sunshine is a truly exceptional film and a genuine modern classic of Korean cinema. Auteur Lee Chang-dong is simply remarkable in crafting the insightful story of grief, removing directorial flourishes to allow the incredible story to present debates on its own merits and forcing audience engagement with difficult material. Featuring an exquisite performance by Jeon Do-yeon, who took the top prize at Cannes for her role, Secret Sunshine is a phenomenal drama that every film fan should see.

★★★★★

Reviews

January 12, 2015January 24, 2015

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You Are My Sunshine (너는 내 운명) – ★★★☆☆

You Are My Sunshine (너는 내 운명)

In a small picturesque countryside town, cattle farmer Seok-jung (Hwang Jeong-min (황정민) yearns to be married. Having saved plenty of money he initially considers finding a bride in The Philippines, however decides that the absence of love defeats the purpose. Close to giving up hope, Seok-jung spies new resident Eun-ha (Jeon Do-yeon (전도연) in the village who works as a ‘coffee girl’/prostitute, and is instantly smitten despite his mother’s (Na Moon-hee (나문희) disapproval. Seok-jung showers Eun-ha with affection in order to win her heart, with the worldly-wise Seoulite gradually succumbing to his country charms. Yet Eun-ha’s turbulent past eventually catches up to her, testing the limits of their love.

When Seok-jung sees Eun-ha, it’s truly love at first sight

Director Park Jin-pyo (박진표) cemented his status as a filmmaker of repute with You Are My Sunshine, a romantic-drama that impressively employs the cliches and predictable pleasures of the genre in becoming an effective and entertaining tear-jerker.

While You Are My Sunshine doesn’t push any boundaries in terms of originality, director Park perceptively infuses the film with generic conventions alongside an awareness of their strengths and limitations, following tried-and-tested motifs yet still managing to avoid descending into corny melodrama. Indeed, certain scenes even playfully poke fun at the huge popularity of such tales despite the silliness, in amusing self-referential moments. As well as the clearly self-aware narrative, the camerawork and cinematography apply a more social-realist aesthetic than is typically found in other examples of the genre, halting the story from becoming too whimsical by grounding events with a distinct air of realism. Luckily this doesn’t translate into the story taking itself too seriously, as You Are My Sunshine fully embraces the cliches as virtues and emerges stronger for it.

Coffee girl Eun-ha gradually starts to fall for Seok-jung’s sincere declarations

The power of You Are My Sunshine resides in the central relationship which features fantastic performances by leads Hwang Jeong-min and Jeon Do-yeon, who received critical acclaim as well as notable accolades, for their turns in the film. Hwang Jeong-min is incredibly charismatic as farmhand Seok-jung. He clearly bulked up for the role as his size is particularly imposing, which ironically contrasts with his boyishly energetic mannerisms and speech that convey a kindly and naive, yet intellectually limited, suitor. Much of the film’s enjoyment is derived from his boundless hopefulness and innocence as he pursues and is constantly rejected by a ‘coffee girl’ – a desire his mother and friends are baffled by – yet his persistence and sincerity are heartwarming despite the cliches. Jeon Do-yeon, meanwhile, opts for an alternative approach in her portrayal of Eun-ha as she doesn’t merely act the role, but inhabits it completely. She is simply brilliant throughout, channeling Eun-ha’s pessimism and experience in confrontations with Seok-jung with acute sophistication.

Unfortunately however the narrative falters in the final act as the pressure to succumb to melodrama is impossible to avoid, although fans will undoubtedly be highly satisfied. Director Park employs a life-threatening illness as a plot device to generate to required sentiment which is quite exploitative, however he manages to sidestep the full brunt of criticism by using it to explore the ignorance of local townsfolk, the negativity inherent in gossip, as well as the manner in which the media appropriate such events for gain. It amalgamates into a finale that is ultimately far too long yet it does contain some interesting debates regarding Korean society and law.

The lovestruck couple find their love is tested in ways unimaginable

Verdict:

You Are My Sunshine is an entertaining romantic-drama by director Park Jin-pyo, who employs the cliches and conventions of the genre effectively without succumbing to whimsical melodrama. Featuring wonderful performances by Jeon Do-yeon and Hwang Jeong-min, as well as a sense of self-awareness and greater realism than its peers, the film is particularly effective in conveying a fraught tale of romance that fans of the genre are sure to relish.

★★★☆☆

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January 9, 2015January 30, 2015

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The Show Must Go On (우아한 세계) – ★★★☆☆

The Show Must Go On (우아한 세계)

Kang In-gu (Song Kang-ho (송강호) is far from the average gangster. While he joins his compatriots in the Dog Gang as they partake in criminal activities and expand their territory, In-gu also wants the joy of having a typical family. Yet his long-suffering wife (Park Ji-young (박지영) and daughter (Kim So-eun (김소은) are deeply ashamed of his occupation, with In-gu’s efforts to impress them and earn their respect constantly failing. Thankfully, due to a great deal secured by In-gu, he can finally quit the gangster lifestyle and focus on creating the perfect home in the suburbs. Yet when the ambitious younger brother (Yoon Je-moon (윤제문) of the big boss (Choi Il-hwa (최일화) makes a play for power, In-gu’s dreams quickly begin to unravel.

In-gu’s attempts to have a career as a gangster as well as a family strain his relationships

The Show Must Go On is a unique gangster tale in that director Han Jae-rim does away with the overt machismo and glamourisation of the underworld lifestyle, presenting a more grounded and comedic interpretation of the genre. Crime comedies have become somewhat of a staple in Korean cinema with the Marrying the Mafia and My Wife is a Gangster series, but what sets The Show Must Go On apart from its peers is that overt humour is jettisoned in favour of irony and satire. The original Korean title translates as ‘Elegant World‘ yet In-gu’s life is revealed as anything but, as he works hard in absurd situations in order to provide for his family but succeeds only in upsetting them further. When his daughter’s grades slip, for example, In-gu attempts to bribe the concerned teacher with vouchers incurring greater animosity from the family. In his role as senior gangster, In-gu is forced to wrestle with a short middle-aged man and bite his fingers in order to acquire prints for a contract. It is through such ironic moments that director Han pokes fun at both the lifestyle and the genre, resulting in a film with a distinct identity.

That said, the humour within the crime-comedy-drama misses more often than it hits. While director Han competently helms the action and creates certain confrontations that raise a smile, others mostly just fall flat and give way to violent conflict, dramatic scenes, or a combination of the two. As such the tone within The Show Must Go On veers uncontrollably throughout the narrative and is incredibly uneven from beginning to end. Certain set-pieces – such as a battle royale between gangsters and striking construction workers, presented as comedic through the overtly feminine fighting styles of the supposedly tough criminals – make light of keen social problems which tends to seem in bad taste. Legendary supporting actor Oh Dal-soo is employed to help bring a greater element of fun as In-gu’s best friend from a rival gang, however his paltry screen-time unfortunately allows him little room to maneuver.

In-gu and best friend Hyun-soo joke around in one of the film’s lighter moments

The uneven tonal balance extends to The Show Must Go On’s weak final act, where the film disappointingly falls into repetition and melodrama. At 112 minutes the film doesn’t have a particularly long running time yet due to the imbalances and protracted finale, tedium sets in ultimately resulting in a film which feels overly long.

What makes The Show Must Go On watchable and entertaining is the highly charismatic performance of Song Kang-ho, who carries the entire film on his talented shoulders. The star has made a career out of playing incredibly likable, bumbling, well-intentioned fools and he channels such prowess brilliantly into the character of In-gu. Song also manages to construct the protagonist as so appealing that a great deal of sympathy is almost demanded from the audience, despite In-gu’s status in the criminal underworld. The actor conveys the gangster first and foremost as a sensitive husband and father, desperate to do right by them yet as he is his own worst enemy, he simply creates further embarrassment and tension. In removing the overt machismo and swagger so often associated with the genre and constructing In-gu as a character with more diversity and depth, Song has taken a highly uneven script and made it an engaging drama.

In-gu is violent when necessary but first and foremost is a family man

Verdict:

The Show Must Go On is a unique offering by director Han Jae-rim, who seeks to construct a gangster comedy with ironic and satirical sensibilities. The result is very hit-and-miss with a tone that is generally all over the place, despite the competent directing on display. The film is saved however by Song Kang-ho’s wonderful performance as a sensitive father/criminal, and fans of the actor will no doubt find much to enjoy.

★★★☆☆

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January 8, 2015January 30, 2015

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Musa – The Warrior (무사) – ★★★☆☆

Musa – The Warrior (무사)

In the year 1375 AD, the Ming Empire has forced the Yuan dynasty north of the Great Wall in what is now known as China. The warring has heightened tension throughout the region with suspicion and threats around every corner. The kingdom of Goryeo (ancient Korea) is also at odds with Ming following the assassination of King Gong-min as well as emissaries from the Empire. In an attempt to reestablish peace between them, Goryeo sends a special envoy to Ming, yet upon arrival they are accused as spies and sent into exile. As the emissaries traverse the scorching desert, their caravan is attacked by Mongolian warriors, who free the Goryeo delegates and leave them to their fate. Taking command, Royal Guard General Choi Jung (Joo Jin-mo (주진모) leads the party, as well as a band of conscripts headed by Jin-lib (Ahn Sung-gi (안성기), out of the wasteland with the intention of journeying back home. However upon arriving at a frontier outpost the General notices that a band of Mongols have abducted a Ming princess (Zhang Ziyi), while a personal conflict reveals a former Goryeo slave named Yeo-sol’s (Jung Woo-sung (정우성) phenomenal fighting prowess. The General decides that the only way back home is fight alongside the rag-tag group of warriors and rescue the princess to restore the relationship between the two nations, yet completing the task will be far easier said than done.

Suspected as spies, the Goryeo delegation is sent into exile yet fate has other plans

Shot entirely on location in China, director Kim Sung-su’s historical epic Musa – The Warrior was the most expensive Korean production at the time of inception. Featuring an all-star cast from the peninsula as well as Chinese actress Zhang Ziyi, who at the time was a hot property following her turn in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000), Musa generated an enormous amount of hype prior to release which translated into invitations to a score of international film festivals, yet something of a lukewarm reception during its box office run at home.

Musa is perhaps best described as a wuxia western and as such stands out as a unique entity in Korean cinema. The large budget has been effectively applied onscreen with the stunning cinematography consistently captivating, particularly when filming the great number and range of landscapes involved, which capture the inherent dangers of traversing the Chinese wilderness during the era. Yet on a smaller scale the acute attention to detail is also impressive, with the costumes of each protagonist meticulously precise and adding a keen sense of authenticity to the proceedings.

Such credibility is also extended through the action sequences. While a far cry from the elegance of other martial arts epics, Musa is effective in portraying a more realistic depiction of conflict by revealing the sheer brutality of war and murder through some particularly bloodthirsty moments, scenes which are certain to please fans of the genre and are certainly not for the squeamish.

Former slave Yeo-sol is a formidable warrior with a staff

However while Musa is an epic in an aesthetic sense, the script doesn’t match the visual ambition. The story and characterisation are far too simplistic and underdeveloped for such a saga and as such it’s difficult to fully invest with those involved or the odds they face, save for the fact they are underdogs. There is also a high degree of repetition, as the delegation march through an inhospitable environment before battling an enemy, then traverse a different hostile region and engage in another assault, and so on. Coupled with a running time of over 2 hours, Musa ultimately sinks into tedium, especially in the later stages.

As characterisation is an issue, audience alignment is primarily formed through the star power each actor brings to the narrative. The most successful in this endeavour are Ahn Sung-gi as conscript captain Jin-lib and Joo Jin-mo as General Choi Jung. Their quarreling regarding the correct course of action provides the greatest insight into the motivations within the party, with tantalizing hints at greater development that are never capitalised on. The greatest waste of talent applies to Jeong Woo-seong and Zhang Ziyi who are woefully underutilized throughout the film. Aside from phenomenal fighting skill and spoilt pouting, the pair rarely fulfill any other function which is a great shame considering their abilities.

The spoilt Ming princess comes to understand the horrors that lay outside the kingdom

Verdict:

Musa – The Warrior stands out in Korean cinema as an interesting wuxia-western fusion, one which is consistently stunning due to the visual ambition of director Kim Sung-su. Yet aside from featuring impressive attention to detail and kinetic action sequences, the overly long narrative doesn’t match the epic qualities of what’s onscreen while the A-list talent is woefully underutilized, resulting in an entertaining though uncompelling action-adventure.

★★★☆☆

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January 5, 2015September 7, 2015

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Chihwaseon (취화선) – ★★★★☆

Chihwaseon (취화선)

In 1882, the Joseon dynasty is coming to an end. As the country battles with foreign invaders seeking to colonise the region and as corrupt officials tear the country apart from within, Joseon stands on a knife edge. It is at this time that a wealthy Japanese dignitary requests a conference with renowned artist Jang Seung-ub (Choi Min-sik (최민식), one of the greatest painters of the era, in order to purchase his work. Yet when he enquires as to how a man of such humble origins can acquire such talent, Seung-ub merely laughs. The artist recounts his life as a young man in squalor during the mid-19th century, of being saved by kindly scholar Kim Byung-moon (Ahn Sung-gi (안성기), of the development of his skill followed by his strident desperation to go beyond the boundaries of art, of his ever growing addiction to alcohol and women. Through Seung-ub’s story, the history of a country in turmoil and the artistic fervour of the era are revealed.

Friendly scholar Kim Byung-moon notices Seung-ub’s artistic skill and sets him on the path

Chihwaseon – also known as Strokes of Fire, Painted Fire, or more colourfully as Drunk on Women and Poetry – is a lovingly crafted tribute to the beauty and philosophy of traditional Korean art by film maestro Im Kwon-taek, which also notably won the veteran filmmaker the Best Director Award at the Cannes International Film Festival in 2002. The accolade is well-deserved as the drama is absolutely superb in capturing the turbulent spirit of the era through the story of real-life artist Jang Seung-ub. As historical records reveal little in regards to Jang Seung-ub’s life, director Im is free to apply his own brand of artistic license in depicting the great man and he skillfully uses the opportunity to examine Korean traditional artistry and the quest for perfection with palpable devotion. The methodologies and principles employed, the poetry infused within every stroke, even the manner in which such convictions stifled creativity, are all explored through the perspective of Seung-ub which, due to his status as a commoner, often results in affectionately poking fun at the artistic philosophies as much as revering them.

The cinematography and mise-en-scene are captivating throughout Chihwaseon. The visuals wonderfully portray the abject squalor of the artist’s youth in the 1850s as he runs through muddy and poverty-stricken hanok villages, which contrast incredibly effectively with Seung-ub’s later years as he is exposed to the affluence of the middle classes as he serves various masters, before he himself becomes a wealthy man of renown. Such locations provide stunningly poetic backdrops for the journey Seung-ub undertakes as director Im explores the artist’s destructive quest for aesthetic perfection, as his tumultuous personality, as well as critical moments tied to historical circumstance, result in tragic irony in the creation of – and annihilation of – countless masterpieces.

Seung-ub is drunken womanising rogue at war with himself

Seung-ub is a drunken, womanising rogue at war with himself

Choi Min-sik utterly excels in portraying Seung-ub as a man at war with himself, desperately seeking to go beyond the limitations of his birth and his craft while drinking and womanising and causing conflict wherever he roams. Yet amazingly the actor never makes him a figure of ridicule but rather a loveable rogue, and certainly one of the most memorable characters in director Im’s filmography.

If there is criticism to be made of Chihwaseon, it comes in the form of the breakneck pace of the film’s early stages. The events that transpire move so quickly during the artist’s formative years that it halts the creation of an empathetic connection, which is of particular import given that his inspiration, motivation, and self-loathing all stem from the period. Following the opening, it’s an issue that the film struggles with throughout as the investment in Seung-ub’s journey ultimately becomes less compelling, yet it’s a testament to director Im’s prowess and Choi Min-sik’s charismatic performance that the drama continues to be engaging.

Seung-ub’s quest for perfection results in the creation (and destruction) of notable masterpieces

Verdict:

Chihwaseon is a beautifully crafted tribute to traditional Korean artistry by virtuoso director Im Kwon-taek. Featuring stunning locations and mise-en-scene, the period drama is superb in capturing the tumultuous spirit of the era as well as the unbridled dedication to art and poetry, while Choi Min-sik is on top form as charismatic yet self-loathing artist Jang Seung-ub. Chihwaseon is a genuine testament to the creativity and grace of the past masters.

★★★★☆

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January 3, 2015January 30, 2015

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The Coachman (마부) – ★★★★★

The Coachman (마부)

In the early 1960s, Korea was striving to become a developed economic country following the terrible losses from war with the North. A single father (Kim Seung-ho (김승호) attempts to support his family as a ‘coachman,’ a laborious and poorly-regarded job pulling a horse and cart, yet his efforts are limited due to the rising number of cars and growing affluence of the middle-classes. His four children are also struggling. The eldest son is studying for his third attempt to pass a law exam, while his youngest is a thief; his eldest daughter is mute and suffers from domestic violence, while the other employs her looks in order to acquire a rich husband. With life a continual daily struggle and debts mounting, events transpire that serve to make it even more challenging.

The Coachman is heralded as one of the great cinematic achievements in Korean film history, and it’s a distinction that is wholly deserved. Director Kang Dae-jin’s tale of familial strife during a period of enormous social and economic upheaval is absolutely brilliant, and is a landmark not only in regards to superb storytelling but also in capturing the spirit of the era. Furthermore, the Silver Bear Jury Prize was awarded to the drama at the 1961 Berlin International Film Festival, marking the first time for a Korean film ever to win a major trophy overseas.

The coachman struggles to support his family during a time of great economic change

In its portrayal of a country in the midst of enormous social and economic development, The Coachman is strikingly effective. The film opens with the coachman’s youngest son, a student and part-time thief, as he is chased for stealing a bike. As the young man weaves through the streets towards his neighbourhood, the cinematography beautifully captures the central issue of the story as the houses transition from affluent middle class abodes to traditional hanok houses, which then give way to slum-like homes built of scrap material. Director Kang wonderfully articulates the sense of a country struggling with modernity and hardship through the very streets themselves, portraying the fraught class system and living standards of the period during the simple yet incredibly effective sequence, managing to be both equal parts riveting chase as well as a stunning historical lesson.

The economic hardship of the era is insightfully explored through the life of the titular coachman. With automobiles an increasingly common occurrence due to the rising wealth of the middle classes, the coachman finds his occupation gradually becoming more and more irrelevant and as such supporting his family presents an enormous challenge. His employers are characterised as fat, lazy, and unspeakably greedy, with a thoroughly selfish streak that halts them from acknowledging the difficulties of their workers or in taking responsibility. With little other choice the coachman regretfully appeals for aid from a private lender, who hounds them daily about repaying debts. Through the burdens and misfortunes of the coachman the film is a rather scathing indictment of the economic changes in ’60s Korean society and those being left behind, yet his indomitable spirit and desperation to continue working are powerfully uplifting, with the character a fitting metaphoric tribute to the strength and resolve of the lower classes during the era.

The affluent middle classes are often cruel and judgmental

By extension, the suffering endured by the coachman’s children is of particular import. Each member of the family represents societal issues from the period and the different manners in which the populace attempted to cope with the dramatic changes occurring in the peninsula. The eldest daughter, who is mute, is married to a vile abusive man through an arrangement with her father (and the film’s only reference to the war). Such a union should guarantee the daughter a life of comfort, yet her suffering is indicative of the terrible treatment women and the disabled were forced to endure at the time. Tremendous pressure is heaped upon the eldest son who is studying to become a lawyer, yet after two failed attempts the outlook is grim. As such he intends to follow in his father’s footsteps, which would ultimately continue the cycle of poverty for the family. The youngest daughter attempts to use her appearance and deception in order to acquire a wealthy husband, marrying out of the class mould in which she she born. The youngest, and largely ignored, son is a thief often in trouble with the law. Each sibling is desperate to evade the economic hardships of the era through the means available to them, with each representation a powerful portrayal of the societal desire to not be forgotten or abandoned during the rapid modernisation of the country.

Yet while the drama is a provocative account of Korean society in flux, The Coachman never succumbs to brooding pessimism. The film is consistently hopeful and entertaining through the ever-say-die attitude of the family, and in particular the charismatic performance of Kim Seung-ho as the father. His jovial character, even when presented with enormous hurdles, is infectious and continually rousing, while his attempts to woo his employer’s housemaid are witty and incredibly enjoyable. The Coachman ultimately presents a family tale of terrible economic hardship yet with a genuine charm that can be attributed to the indomitable spirit of the characters, and by extension, the people of Korea.

The indomitable spirit the family share helps them through the modernisation of Korean society

Verdict:

The Coachman is undoubtedly one of the great cinematic achievements in Korean film. With his insightful and provocative exploration of the economic hardships facing Korean families in the 1960s during a time of rapid development, director Kang Dae-jin has created a stunning masterpiece that unequivocally stands the test of time.

★★★★★

You can watch The Coachman for free on youtube here, courtesy of the Korean Film Archive.

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January 1, 2015January 30, 2015

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Christmas in August (8월의 크리스마스) – ★★★★☆

Christmas in August (8월의 크리스마스)

Mild-mannered Jung-won (Han Seok-Kyu (한석규) owns a small photography store in a quiet country town, whiling away his days developing pictures for the locals and spending time with his family. Yet Jung-won is also suffering from a terminal illness that he attempts to deal with in his own quietly introvert manner. His simple lifestyle changes however when attractive parking attendant Da-rim (Shim Eun-ha (심은하) visits his studio in need of urgent service, and the two strike up a subtle relationship. As they gradually begin to cross paths more and more, Jung-won and Da-rim grow ever closer to develop an intimate tale of romance in the scorching heat of summertime.

One hot afternoon, Da-rim enters mild-mannered Jung-won’s life

Christmas in August is a beautifully gentle and sincere romantic drama by director Heo Jin-ho (허진호). Acclaimed as something of a modern classic in Korean cinema, the film manages to skillfully sidestep the melodramatic pitfalls that so often afflict other examples of the genre to produce a wonderfully modest yet insightful tale depicting the origins of love. With Christmas in August, overblown, grandiose gestures are thoroughly rejected and replaced with smaller, more subtle moments that express so much more affection. Scenes involving Jung-won and Da-rim as they share ice creams, converse in the photography studio, and have brief encounters in the village contain a palpable authenticity that is a genuine delight to watch, as their relationship gently develops and deepens. Such instances are heavily reliant upon nuanced performances, and in this regard Han Seok-kyu and Shim Eun-ha, who were at the height of Hallyu stardom at the time, deliver wonderfully. The glances, the exchanges, the body language – all perfectly convey the fragile tenderness of adolescent romance, and as such it’s little wonder that the couple are so iconic in Korean cinema.

Jung-won and Da-rim become closer in tender and subtle ways

The likability of the couple is also due to the fascinating characterisation ascribed to each, with Jung-won as a sensitive, creative introvert and Da-rim as a headstrong, independent and feisty. Although they are quite different the attraction and intrigue that draws them together is particularly charming. Director Heo makes the wise decision not to exploit Jung-won’s illness within their burgeoning relationship for the sake of melodrama and romance. While the undisclosed illness underpins much of the events that transpire, the story isn’t subsumed by it and it’s to director Heo’s credit that he keeps scales back the drama in favour of character.

Jung-won’s occupation at the photography studio is also an effective metaphor in director Heo’s exploration of love, loss and time. The different situations in which he takes pictures or edits the images for customers is consistently touching as it gives his life purpose and meaning in the quiet country town. The creation of something that will endure beyond his time on Earth conveys his poetic nature, even though he is aware that ultimately everything fades.

In the hot summer months, Da-rim and Jung-won enjoy special moments

Verdict:

Christmas in August is considered a classic of modern Korean cinema, and for good reason. Director Heo Jin-ho explores the origins of love with incredible sincerity, never allowing the story to delve into melodramatic cliches and prizing characterisation and subtle, tender moments over excess. With charming and nuanced performances by Shim Eun-ha and Han Seok-kyu, Christmas in August is a lovely tale of love, loss and time.

★★★★☆

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December 30, 2014January 30, 2015

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Epitaph (기담) – ★★★☆☆

Epitaph (기담)

In 1979, aging professor Park Jeong-nam is made aware that Ansaeng Hospital, the institution in which he began to forge his career, is due to be demolished. At home, the professor opens an old photo album featuring pictures from his days as an intern there, and begins to reminisce about an awful four day period that occurred in 1942, back when Korea was under Japanese colonial rule. He recalls how as a young man (Jin Goo (진구) he developed an attraction with the corpse of a beautiful young girl; how a car crash survivor named Asako (Ko Joo-yeon (고주연) was haunted by the ghosts of the tragic event; and of brilliant neurosurgeon Dr. Kim Dong-won (Kim Tae-woo (김태우) and the troubled relationship with his wife Dr. Kim In-yeong (Kim Bo-kyeong (김보경).

Jeong-nam becomes intrigued by the beauty of a young corpse

Epitaph is an attractive and unsettling horror film, one which is in actuality an omnibus of short supernatural stories loosely tied together so as to masquerade as a feature. This particular narrative structure is one that directors Jeong Beom-sik (정범식) and Jeong Sik (정식) – more commonly known as the Jeong Brothers – returned to in both Horror Stories and its sequel, yet Epitaph manages to marry the disparate events more successfully than their later attempts.

The narrative within Epitaph features three short horror tales set within the confines of the Ansaeng (safe life) Hospital, bookended by scenes of the now-elderly Jeong-nam as he recollects events from his past. As the film jumps between stories and across timelines, the narrative, though entertaining, ultimately becomes a convoluted mess that is often frustrating to endure, and is in desperate need of a re-edit. Yet that said, the three episodes themselves are competently portrayed and engaging. Initially Epitaph focuses on young Jeong-nam as an intern struggling with the gory specifics involved in conducting autopsies, whose attention is captivated by the beauty of a young corpse. The potential of the premise isn’t capitalised upon however as any sense of growing obsession is curiously absent, and as such is primarily used to help set the stage for the other two shorts. The notable highlight of the film comes in the form of the second story involving traffic accident survivor Asako. Attempts are made to combine both a psychological drama with traditional scares and the tale somewhat succeeds. Lastly, a doctor becomes suspicious of his wife as a vicious serial killer is on the loose. In each case, the directors simply capture the events that transpire without managing to generate the required tension and suspense, resulting in a horror film that, aside from a few unsettling moments, is crucially lacking in scares.

Youngster Asako is haunted by the ghosts of a car accident

Epitaph is additionally guilty of not only employing a wide range of cliches, but also rather blatant replications from superior horrors that often border on plagiarism. It’s a shame the Jeong Brothers have opted for such an approach as the set-up, and particularly the time period, lends itself well to the creation of a uniquely Korean horror film. Yet through the incorporation of techniques found better elsewhere, Epitaph never moves beyond being simply entertaining and into the realm of genuinely frightening.

Ultimately the real power of the film lies onscreen within the compositions and shots, which are consistently impressive throughout. At the 2007 Blue Dragon Awards, such prowess was recognised as Yun Nam-ju was presented with the Best Cinematography award, while Best Art Direction went to Kim Yu-jeong and Lee Min-bok. Each location is wonderfully constructed to convey the 1942 era credibly, with the aesthetics of each tale generating a unique, yet interconnected, atmosphere. The hospital interiors including the hallways and the mortuary are of particularly of note in the first tale, which bridge seamlessly into the second and third stories as youngster Asako receives treatment while the married doctors conduct their work. Furthermore, Asako’s nightmares allow the artistic direction to move into more surrealist territory as well as incorporate some wonderfully composed exterior shots, which links well to the otherworldly Japanese-esque arenas in the final story. In each instance the designers manage to simultaneously articulate the mood and sensibilities of each tale while linking it within the context of the whole, making Epitaph quite the visual treat.

Dangerous neurosurgery is conducted at the institution

Verdict:

Epitaph is a competent and visually attractive horror film by directors Jeong Beom-sik and Jeong Sik, better known as the Jeong brothers. The omnibus film features three tales that are generally unsettling rather than frightening, largely due to the haphazard narrative structure and employment of cliched tropes from superior examples of the genre. Epitaph is a solid, though unremarkable, addition to the K-horror canon.

★★★☆☆

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December 17, 2014January 30, 2015

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Scarlet Innocence (마담 뺑덕) – ★★★☆☆

Scarlet Innocence (마담 뺑덕)

Due to a scandalous issue at university, literature professor Hak-gyu (Jeong Woo-seong (정우성) is forced to relocate to the countryside while an investigation transpires. Arriving at a small village, he begins reluctantly teaching the elderly residents, and in becoming acquainted with his new surroundings Hak-gyu meets young and innocent fairground operator Deokee (Esom (이솜). Although married and a father, Hak-gyu begins a steamy, passionate affair with Deokee, yet when a surprise phone call alerts him that the scandal has ended he returns home, abandoning his new mistress. Years later, as his sight begins to dissipate, the ramifications of Hak-gyu’s selfish past deeds come back to haunt him.

While in exile, literature professor Hak-gyu meets innocent Deokee

Scarlet Innocence is a reimagining of the classic Korean folk fable Shim-cheong, in which a daughter sacrifices herself at sea in order for her blind father to regain his sight. Director Lim Pil-seong (임필성) and screenwriter Jang Yoon-mi (장윤미) update the tragic filial piety story into a modern tale of lust and revenge, spurred by questions about how the motivations of the original characters developed. The revised story, with the addition of sexual promiscuity, themes of revenge and the gangster underworld, bares little more than a passing metaphoric resemblance to the original tale to the point where it’s surprising Shim-cheong is referenced as inspiration at all. Yet that aside, while Scarlet Innocence is competently produced and sports fine performances from leads Jeong Woo-seong and Esom, the erotic thriller consistently feels rushed and unfinished both narratively and directorially.

The film opens with Hak-gyu journeying to the countryside to endure his time in exile. The cinematography is a visual treat through the recurring motif of blooming cherry blossom trees and quaint rural landscapes, yet rather than employing additional cinematic cues to convey the professor’s angst a voice-over is incorporated to explain the premise. The unnecessary device is utilised at several junctures throughout the film to clarify certain situations yet rather than illuminate, it serves merely to draw audiences out of the story. Scarlet Innocence improves greatly however upon Hak-gyu’s arrival, where his frustrations and dispute with the university are articulate well through tantalizing hints that allude to his precarious situation. The development of Hak-gyu’s relationship with Deokee also begins well, largely due to Esom’s wonderfully charismatic performance as an innocent girl enamored with an older sophisticated gentleman. A scene in which she is almost hypnotised by Hak-gyu’s hand as it moves over a desk is impressively constructed, conveying intense, palpable sexual desire.

Hak-gyu and Deaokee begin a passionate affair

Hak-gyu and Deokee begin a passionate affair, arousing gossip in the village

Unfortunately however the development from such moments to explicit sexual scenes lacks the impetus to make the affair compelling, as the relationship jumps from a stolen kiss to impersonal sex on a ferris wheel, and beyond. Much has been made of the intimate sequences, so much so that the film has rather unfairly acquired a reputation for it, yet the erotic moments, while featuring plenty of exposure, contain a shortage of both sincerity and passion particularly when contrasted with the year’s other erotic drama Obsessed. This is not so much due to the actors, both of whom are impressive in conveying their psychology through their bodies, but rather the need for greater prior development and intensity between them which another script rewrite would ultimately correct. That said, the issues that later lead to Hak-gyu and Deokee’s separation are dramatic and effective, culminating in an absorbing climax.

Yet from such engaging material the narrative jumps eight years into the future, not only undermining the previous tension but also generating the sense that Scarlet Innocence is actually two shorter films tenuously stitched together. This is achieved through the focus on Hak-gyu’s descent into drink, gambling and debauchery, as well as the return of Deokee as a cliched femme fatale and her highly implausible plans to exact revenge. The inclusion of Hak-gyu’s daughter Cheong-ee (Park So-yeong (박소영) to the proceedings is also a misstep due to her woeful underdevelopment, despite the original fable primarily based on her character. The sexual politics are also frankly awful throughout, notably the fixation on high heels as empowering yet inherently evil, while the inclusion of the criminal underworld is at odds with everything that came before. As such Scarlet Innocence evolves from a mild-mannered erotic drama to a cliched crime thriller, resulting in a film that, despite its potential, is entertaining yet quite underwhelming.

Years after their affair, Deokee returns for revenge

Years after their affair, Deokee returns to exact a unique brand of revenge

Verdict:

Based loosely on the classic fable Shim-cheong, Scarlet Innocence is an updated version featuring erotically charged scenes and themes of revenge. Director Lim Pil-seong competently helms the drama, particularly in the early stages, while actors Jeong Woo-seong and Esom provide fine performances. Yet the film consistently feels rushed and unfinished both narratively and directorially while the second half of the drama descends into implausible cliched territory. As such Scarlet Innocence is entertaining, yet quite underwhelming.

★★★☆☆