Joo Jin-mo (주진모)

January 8, 2015January 30, 2015

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.

★★★☆☆

Reviews

As the meetings between the Queen and Hong-rim increase, so does their love

February 7, 2013September 7, 2015

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A Frozen Flower (쌍화점) – ★★★☆☆

A Frozen Flower (쌍화점)

The dynasties within Korean history are captivating periods for epic, romantic storytelling. As well as the threat of war from without and the corruption seemingly endemic within, the beautiful clothing and rigid social hierarchy allow for wonderfully passionate tales of forbidden love and scandal, of desperate lovers defying duty for intense moments of lust.

A Frozen Flower, written and directed by Yoo Ha, fits such a mold perfectly. With issues ranging from coerced tributes to foreign lands to the lack of a royal heir, the drama attempts to provide a grand, sweeping story of love and intrigue during the Goryeo period. The inclusion of gay lovers – in the form of the King and his bodyguard – is somewhat of an extension of the themes present within the prior The King and the Clown, yet the relationship takes on new life due to the love triangle with the Queen and the explicit sexual scenes that occur. As such the film is wonderfully passionate tale of love and jealousy in old Korea, but one that ultimately feels like a high-budgeted TV drama.

At a young age, the King of Goryeo (Joo Jin-mo (주진모) initiated training for a select group of boys who would grow to become his elite bodyguards. Such soldiers are desperately required given the assassination attempts on his life by outsiders and corrupt officials. Yet in adulthood, the King has taken the chief of the elite force, Hong-rim (Jo In-Seong (조인성) as his lover. The relationship is something of an open secret within the court, which only serves to compound an important issue – the lack of an heir. Despite his marriage to a princess of neigbouring Yuan, the country threatens to remove the King’s power should an heir not be produced. Unable to bring himself to bed the Queen (Song Ji-hyo (송지효), the King orders Hong-rim to impregnate her on his behalf as he’s the only person that can be trusted. Yet in complying with the King’s demands, a chain of events begin to unfold that none could foresee.

The relationship between the King of Goryeo and chief Hong-rim is an open secret

A Frozen Flower ticks many of the boxes that make Korean period dramas so attractive and romantic. Director Yoo Ha captures the beauty of the era well as the actors gracefully go about their lives at court, whether through ornate ceremonies or simply resting at the palace and indulging in traditional Korean pastimes. The most prominent feature of the film are the relationships between the central protagonists, and the director wastes no time in establishing the connection that exists between the King and Hong-rim. The affection and love expressed is palpable, as Hong-rim’s concern over the King’s health is wonderfully conveyed through actions and mannerisms, while the King refuses to leave his lovers side even when faced with mortal danger. Director Yoo plays with the notion of gender incredibly well with all the cast but especially in regards to the King and Hong-rim, emphasizing their feminine attributes through colour, costume and particularly hair. The passionate sex scene between them is skillfully framed and conveys their gender as meaningless, as both men embody masculine and feminine qualities through their performance so that only their passion and devotion is of importance. Such androgyny is also ascribed to the Queen who is conveyed as the most stoic and ‘masculine’ of the three. In each case, the actors wonderfully express the fluid notion of gender and sexuality that they embody, making the concept of gender one of the more fascinating aspects of the film.

The sexual scenes between the Queen and Hong-rim are arguably the most renowned feature of A Frozen Flower, and director Yoo captures the raw passion of their physical encounters with effective close ups and vibrant red tones. Yet the repetition of such scenes are undoubtedly a rather cynical attempt to offset the gay context that exists within the narrative, whilst the male fantasy of justified sexual exploitation makes for rather uncomfortable viewing initially. Both Song Ji-hyo and Jo In-seong perform the sex scenes with incredible intensity and sincerity, although the idea that the couple could fall in love purely through sexual encounters is one of the weaker aspects of the story, especially when the cold stoicism of Song Ji-hyo’s performance suggests manipulation and desperation rather than love.

The King orders Hong-rim and the Queen to produce an heir

Due to the great focus on the evolving relationships between the central protagonists, the political sub-plot of corruption in the court is rather superfluous. The inclusion of such issues are generally an excuse to include action within the narrative, yet this in turn highlights the TV drama quality that perpetuates the film. The choreography is bland and uninspired, while surface wounds seem to cause instantaneous death to miscellaneous enemies that don’t really serve any purpose. Action is also director Yoo’s weakest area as he often steps back from the confrontations, and as such tension and danger don’t really build effectively. The camerawork throughout A Frozen Flower further contributes to the TV drama sensibilities as there is little flair on display that evokes the sweeping romantic epic that the film intends to be. Additionally the mise-en-scene, while featuring attractive decor and props, don’t contain the beauty and vibrancy that has come to be expected from such period dramas.

However despite such criticisms, A Frozen Flower is very much a film centered on the love and lust of the three central figures and in this regard is captivating and enthralling. The exploration of sexuality, gender, lust and love are executed wonderfully giving the film a potent emotional core, while the passion and vibrancy conveyed through the sexual scenes, particularly between the Queen and Hong-rim, are beautifully produced.

As the meetings between the Queen and Hong-rim increase, so does their love

Verdict:

A Frozen Flower is a wonderfully sexy tale of love and lust during the Goryeo dynasty. Through skilled use of costume, colour and appearance, director Yoo Ha plays with the notion of gender while exploring the relationships between the King, Queen and Chief bodyguard which are central to the film, conveying palpable passion through confrontational and sexual scenes. Yet the limited scale of the directing, as well as the uninspired action and court scenes, exude a TV drama sensibility throughout the running time. Despite this, A Frozen Flower is a highly enjoyable and racy story of debauchery.

★★★☆☆

Reviews

Jenny becomes an idol, yet her identity is in crisis

February 5, 2012February 3, 2015

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200 Pounds Beauty (미녀는 괴로워) – ★★★☆☆

200 Pounds Beauty (미녀는 괴로워)

Cosmetic surgery is a booming industry worldwide, yet arguably more so in Korea where even middle and high school students return from vacation with bigger eyes and ‘western’ style noses. The obsession with appearance and rising number of surgeries, partly inspired by the influx of celebrities who have undertaken procedures, has alarmed various social groups for many years yet demand has always outstripped criticism by a large (profit) margin.

200 Pounds Beauty (미녀는 괴로워), or translated as ‘Being Beautiful is Agonizing’, is a romantic-comedy based on the huge social debate surrounding cosmetic surgery that attempts to explore opposing sides of the argument. It frequently succeeds and is often quite charming, yet it does so in a superficial capacity while the narrative is ultimately undermined as the film’s mixed message not only condones surgery – it encourages it.

Kang Han-na (Kim Ah-joong (김아중) is an incredibly obese and kind hearted woman, with a superb singing voice. Due to her appearance she sings popular K-pop songs for hit star Ammy (Seo Yoon (서윤) under the stage, while the untalented-yet-pretty performer mimes and dances. The injustice of it all does not escape Han-na yet she accepts that her voice bring s happiness to others through singing and also in her part-time job where she moonlights as a phone-sex worker. Her talent as a singer also brings her closer to her unrequited love, music producer Han Sang-joon (Joo Jin-mo (주진모) who has genuine affection for Han-na. However, upon secretly hearing of Sang-joon’s disgust at her appearance she resolves to have cosmetic surgery on her entire body and reemerge as a beautiful girl to win his heart once and for all.

Han-na’s obese physique belies her talent as a gifted singer

200 Pounds Beauty is competently directed by Kim Yong-hwa (김용화), who understands the nature of physical comedy well. The jokes created at the expense of Han-na’s weight, such as rebounding off of walls and falling through the floor, are contrasted with moments of innocence and naivety that strike a highly empathic chord with the character. The director also deserves credit for continuing such devices when Han-na transforms into Jenny, as Kim Yong-hwa refrains from fetishising her new body with the camera and instead consistently emphasizes the awkward physical comedy she perpetuates. In doing so Han-na/Jenny becomes even more sympathetic as her innocent identity is still intact. The source of comedy is also contrasted between Han-na and Jenny well, as Han-na’s obesity is often comical but the root of bullying while Jenny’s awkwardness is fun yet her beauty highlights the funny superficiality of others. When Han-na is invited to a birthday party she is mocked for wearing a tight gown; when Jenny is the cause of a car crash the men instantly forgive her due to her appearance. As such the social commentary within 200 Pounds Beauty is concerned with the superficial preconceptions that exist within culture and undermines them through conveying how hollow such concepts – and especially men and the entertainment industry – are.

Yet just as Arial in Disney’s The Little Mermaid (1989) changed her body and identity to find her prince, so too does Han-na in obtaining hers. Despite the existence of social critique within the narrative it is often rather shallow in the effort to be light-hearted entertainment. Jenny’s rejection of her father and best friend, her obese best friend’s suicide attempt, and even the surgical process itself are all present yet conveyed without the requisite detail that would portray Han-na’s journey as a poignant trajectory of self-discovery as well as a comedic one. Sang-joon’s attempt to touch Jenny in her surgically enhanced areas is also amusing, yet despite her own reference to herself as a product there are few scenes exploring how Jenny is used as ‘image’ by her love interest. Combined with the prosperous K-pop career and winning Sang-joon’s heart that Jenny receives in undergoing treatment, 200 Pounds Beauty ultimately conveys that cosmetic surgery is the way to a successful and love-filled life, wholly undermining prior scenes of Han-na’s torment by bullies and the superficiality of culture and the media.

Han-na – now Jenny – confronts Sang-joon and emerges with a singing career

For her performance as Han-na/Jenny, actress Kim Ah-joong won the Best Actress award at the 2007 Grand Bell Awards. Kim Ah-joong’s performance is good, emphasising the awkward physicality of her character with skill with a sense of comedic timing. However she is consistently on the verge of tears almost regardless of the scenario, functioning as an innocent and tearful ‘image’ of traditional femininity that further serves to encourage cosmetic surgery. Her acting is often childlike despite scenes which offer a chance at a more nuanced performance. Despite this Kim Ah-joong is by far the most engaging and talented performer throughout 200 Pounds Beauty, and the film is difficult to imagine without her as the main protagonist.

The other actors fare much worse, particularly Joo Jin-mo as love interest Sang-joon. He is lacking in charisma throughout, and the absence of chemistry between him and Kim Ah-joong is solely his responsibility and is highly noticeable. This is in part due to the lack of development of the character as there are an abundance of minor roles, yet there are several opportunities where the actor could convey his emotions. As it is, his performance conveys he is unworthy of Han-na’s love and portrays the romance between them as contrived.

Jenny becomes an idol, yet her identity is in crisis

Verdict:

200 Pounds Beauty is a comedic and humorous film that attempts to explore both sides of Korea’s obsession with cosmetic surgery, a highly ignored cultural trend – cinematically at least – with a highly competent performance by Kim Ah-joong. While the film does depict a variety of social discourses surrounding the cultural phenomenon, such scenes are often superficial and are undermined to such a degree that 200 Pounds Beauty ultimately reinforces – even encourages – cosmetic surgery as the key to a successful and happy life. Mixed messages notwithstanding, 200 Pounds Beauty is a fun, if rather shallow, comedy about the beauty that lies within.

★★★☆☆