Showing posts with label 2011. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2011. Show all posts

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Pink (핑크, Pingkeu) 2011


The passage of time affects us all in certain ways, our experiences and our memories all take on different forms after we’ve lived them and they leave behind a trace.  This imprint can be faint and slip through our conscious memory just as it can leave an indelible mark, a scar that bears the weight of its genesis.  Most things change with the passage of time but some do not and Jeon Soo-il’s new feature Pink is a dirge to the intransigence of the roots of our defining characteristics.

Jeon, who hails from Korea’s vibrant port city Busan, is a fiercely artistic filmmaker who has quietly been making films for the past 15 years.  While respected within the filmmaking community, Jeon has never attracted anywhere near the same level of international reputation as his arthouse contemporaries, such as Hong Sang-soo (The Day He Arrives, 2011), Kim Ki-duk (Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter… and Spring, 2003) and Lee Chang-dong (Poetry, 2010).  His films are slow, deliberate and difficult and though they are successful on the festival circuit (he has won awards at Fribourg, Busan and Venice), a larger audience may never gravitate towards his oeuvre.

Friday, July 6, 2012

NYAFF 2012: King of Pigs (돼지의 왕, Dwaejiui Wang) 2011


Part of MKC's coverage of the 11th New York Asian Film Festival.

(by Peter Gutiérrez)

I’m not sure what the current cultural status of bullying in is South Korea these days – are public policy steps being taken to curtail it, as is the case here in the U.S.? – but certainly anyone who has followed Korean cinema knows that it has provided the thematic backbone to films which cut across several genres. I’m a bit partial to A Bloody Aria (Won Shin-yeon, 2006), and Yeun Sang-ho’s The King of Pigs shares something of its beyond-bleak tone and emotionally raw approach. Just don’t look for any of the former’s dark humor: Yuen has crafted that rare film that effectively plunges head-first into the abyss and never really allows the audience to come up for air, let alone laughs.

So don’t expect a slow and “tasteful” build to the film’s often unforgettable moments of psychological and physical violence. Right away we see our point-of-view character Kyung-Min experience a form of workplace bullying… and then immediately turn around and take out his feelings of shame and powerlessness on his wife in a dynamic that strongly recalls that of James Joyce’s classic Dubliners short story “Counterparts.” But can all of his present-tense troubles really account for the way that Kyung-Min seems to be so haunted? This question is soon answered as he meets up with middle school classmate Jong-Suk for the first time in years, and it becomes clear to us that something happened back in their early adolescence that shaped both men… something that neither seems eager to discuss directly.

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

NYAFF 2012: Honey PuPu (消失打看 - Taiwan, 2011)


Part of MKC's coverage of the 11th New York Asian Film Festival.

Honey PuPu is one of the most singular works to come out of Asia in quite some time.  Its take on the modern world is fiercely original and, by employing a dizzying array of different formats and techniques, it seeks to recount its philosophical and energetic tale of how people’s identities are shaped and disrupted by the world’s aggressive virtualization. Chen Hung-i’s film combines gorgeous and whimsical cinematography with other techniques such as a futuristic platform for social media, photography and a veritable bounty of editing techniques.  It features a terrific soundtrack, quickly oscillating between classical pieces and modern electro music, and is a film unlike any other.

Vicky is a radio hostess who is searching for her lover who has disappeared.  She seeks the help of a number of young people she has encountered through social media with monikers like Cola, Assassin, Money and Playing.  They are all lost souls, seeking answers through the hyperkinetic communication networks of the modern world.

Monday, July 2, 2012

NYAFF 2012: Couples (커플즈, Keo-peul-jeu) 2011


Part of MKC's coverage of the 11th New York Asian Film Festival.

Mainstream cinema has the potential to demonstrate both the best and the worst that the medium has to offer.  Concerning the latter, any number of criticisms can be leveled at the swill and drivel that the world’s film industries will subjects us to and while they are often besides the point, they are just as frequently justified.  When money is involved projects must inevitably revolve around profit, so at one end of the spectrum you will always find shallow and consumerist works versus the riskier ventures, often from established talents, that you will sometimes witness at the other. 

Between these two extremes there lies an uneasy middle-ground, which is expansive and marked by slippery definitions.  Within this domain, there are filmmakers that strive to make something worthwhile from within the strict confines of commercial filmmaking and they sometimes achieve it, indeed every once in a while they might even make something transcendent.  Then there exists the studio hands who, despite working from a seemingly routine template with the assistance of unexceptional pedigree, every so often happen upon something that works.

Friday, June 29, 2012

NYAFF 2012: War of the Arrows (최종병기 활, Choi-jong-byeong-gi Hwal) 2011


Part of MKC's coverage of the 11th New York Asian Film Festival.

It’s about time I threw my hat into the ring and chimed in on War of the Arrows, the top-grossing Korean film of 2011, which has met with positive reactions from all over the globe.  Early in 2011, if you were familiar with the big films that were scheduled to come out throughout the year, you could be forgiven for expecting Sector 7 and The Front Line to dominate the charts during the summer months.  In the end the former was a cataclysmic failure, likely because it was a terrible film, and the latter fell below expectations, it was a decent film but perhaps a little thin to play well given its subject matter.  One film you may not have noticed, I know I didn’t, was War of the Arrows, a straightforward period action film with mid-level stars and no pretense about it.

Friday, May 25, 2012

Punch (완득이, Wandeuki) 2011


On the surface Lee Han’s new feature may not seem like much as it treads well-worn territory such of the coming-of-age drama and the sports film.  Even as it unspools it doesn’t seem to break any new ground as we are introduced to a very familiar plot and a fairly typical coterie of characters.  What sets it apart is the skill in its staging.  Though a standard narrative, it is so well executed that it beckons you into its story with a gesture that, like from an old friend, is both welcoming and comforting.  Once you’re nestled into Punch’s world, which hardly takes a moment, subtle and sometimes surprising elements flutter into the film and the outwardly simplistic characters slowly become more fleshed out.  Though it takes some time to realize that you are watching a film that is much more complex than its easygoing exterior lets on.  Lee, who has previously made a name for himself with a series of well-crafted romance films such as Lover’s Concerto (2002), Almost Love (2006) and Love, First (2007), deftly and almost imperceptibly handles the narrative’s many cogs.

Friday, April 27, 2012

Blind (블라인드, Beulraindeu) 2011

The none-too-subtle opening sequence

First impressions are important and as film viewers we are particularly prone to making rash decisions based upon the opening moments of anything we watch.  This is perhaps even more important in this day and age as multimedia is so readily accessible.  Our already short attention spans are dwindling ever further as we can easily switch between TV channels, on demand, stored digital, and portable media.  Those first few minutes of a film can dispense a large volume of information but even so, they cannot always prepare you for what you are going to see.  Opening scenes are important but not every kind of film can benefit from a flashy beginning.

One of this year’s most successful Korean films, Blind does not get off to the greatest start and blunders on through the first act with heavy feet, trampling through the early stages of the plot.  Subtlety is not the film’s strong suit and the quicker this is accepted, the better.  Once I got used to the heavy-handedness of the proceedings I was able to enjoy myself but the film walks a dangerous line from the start.  It doesn’t really announce itself properly and seems like a relatively sober affair at first, it is only as it continues in unsubtle fashion and when things become even more ridiculous that you begin to understand the intent of the film, which is to be a trashy and entertaining potboiler.  It does succeed on that last count, but it takes a while to get there and is not without its fair share of problems.

Min Soo-ah (Kim Ha-enul) is a young trainee at the police academy and she barges in on an informal dance show and corners her brother, whom she chastises and more or less drags out by the ear.  He is cuffed to the door of the passenger seat of a police van as they bicker, presumably on the way to bring him home.  To cut a long story short: they crash, he dies because he is handcuffed, and she loses her sight.  Flashforward a few years later and she is still adjusting to the life of the visually-impaired and carrying a lot of guilt over her brother’s death. One night she gets in a taxi, or at least she thinks she does, and the driver hits someone and assuming she can’t tell the difference, tries to cover it up then swiftly disappears.  Equipped with her heightened hearing as well as her intuition and cleverness she tries to help scruffy Detective Jo (Jo Hee-bong) at the local police station track him down.  A youth called Gi-seob (Yoo Seung-ho) comes forward with some information but is dismissed as an opportunist out for some reward money.  They soon realize he was telling the truth and he becomes a part of the investigation.  Little do they know that are in fact tracking a serial killer.

Gi-seob (Yoo Eung-ho), the brother stand-in

Although it starts with a big dollop of melodrama, Blind mainly indulge in dribs and drabs.  In fact most of the melodrama that appears in the film relates to that opening scene.  Gi-seob serves as a stand-in for Min’s deceased brother and his relationship with her mainly serves as an instrument for her to forgive herself for her sibling’s untimely passing.  There are a lot of none-too-subtle parallelisms linking Gi-seob and her brother and as a result things play out exactly as you would expect them to.  More glaring is the manipulative sentimentality on display courtesy of Min’s guide dog Wisdom who provides a connection to the world for her.  Besides being cute and protective he will serve one unavoidable purpose which for me amounts to no more than a cheap trick.

Blind features a number of remarkable similarities to the much superior The Chaser (2008):  the principal protagonists both used to be in law enforcement; nighttime chase sequences through decrepit but stylistically lit alleys abound; the villain in both is an amoral serial killer of young women; and the leads don’t realize that they are chasing a serial killer until about the halfway mark.  The tone is admittedly quite different but there is a surprising amount of common ground all the same and it hardly seems coincidental.  Of course it is only natural to ‘borrow’ from something that is proven to work (The Chaser sold over 5 million tickets domestically).

While I certainly enjoyed Blind, the fact that it won both best actress for Kim Ha-neul and best script for Choi Min-suk at the recent ‘Daejong Film Awards’ is ludicrous.  Kim’s performance, while adequate, certainly did not feature the kind of measured, nuanced acting that typically receives such accolades.  In fact, her performance as a blind woman was about as subtle as a brick through a window.  Similarly, Choi’s script managed to holds its elements in place but it lacks any real intrigue or originality, besides the gimmickry, which I admit that I enjoyed. Once again his slightness of touch reminded of a guerilla in a china shop.  I don’t mind campy films, though I find it odd to see them recompensed at industry awards.  What I do need is for the filmmakers to tell me that I am watching one, not to have me suss it out at the tail end of the second act.  

Besides a strong supporting turn from Jo Hee-bong, a fantastic subway chase sequence that could double as a 10-minute ad for the iPhone, and a few clever investigatory tricks, Blind often fails to impress.  However its gusto is admirable and if you catch it in the right frame of mind you may end up really enjoying yourself.

★★★

Sentiment is cheap


Reviews and features on Korean film appear regularly on Modern Korean Cinema.  For film news, external reviews, and box office analysis, take a look at the Korean Box Office UpdateKorean Cinema News and the Weekly Review Round-up, which appear weekly on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings (GMT+1).

To keep up with the best in Korean film you can sign up to our RSS Feed, like us on Facebook, or follow us on Twitter.

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Penny Pinchers (티끌모아 로맨스, Ti-kkeul-mo-a Ro-maen-seu) 2011


Korea’s breathless transformation from an outlying nation into one of the world’s leading economies is nothing short of astonishing.  These days the country is a technology leader and is quickly becoming one of the world’s foremost purveyors of entertainment.  By and large the changes have been good for the country as its citizens have become more prosperous and the standard of living has rising dramatically.  However, there is always a price to pay for progress and one of the offshoots of Korea’s good fortune has been a certain shift in values.  Brand fetishization can be seen as a natural and perhaps necessary ill following the collective increase in disposable income.  Whereas thirty years ago the general Korean public may not have been aware of foreign luxury goods, now they’re omnipresent across the land.

Penny Pinchers is a lighthearted romcom which acts like an antidote to the recent raft of consumerist films that have come out of Korea, such as Little Black Dress (2011).  It’s a quirky film which takes a different approach to the genre compared with Korea’s recent offerings.  Thriftiness is the name of the game and the bulk of the narrative is given other to the sometimes difficult process of survival that many directionless 20-somethings are forced to endure.


Ji-woong is an unemployed 26-year-old who is about to lose his apartment and seems hopelessly lost as he attempts to navigate adulthood in modern day Seoul.  His next door neighbour is Hong-shil, a remarkably clever and frugal girl who goes to great lengths to 'pinch pennies'.  After taking advantange of Ji-woong’s late rent payments, which get him kicked out of his lodgings, she takes pity on him and brings him on as a sort of apprentice in thriftiness.

The film starts off as a comedy and the romantic element of it doesn’t really get going at first as it will take a long time for the pair to realize they like each other, though we surmise it much earlier on.  There’s also not too much in the way of a plot as we mainly witness the various little schemes and tricks they employ in order to save money.  The vague goal is for Ji-woong to have enough money for a new apartment and as we learn later on, Hong-shil's path will be a melodramatic one at the end of which she must reconcile the death of her mother. 


Hong-shil is thrifty (to put it mildly) and her sort-of-foil is an airheaded golddigger, whom Ji-woong chases after, trying to fool her into thinking he’s a prosperous young man.  This minor protagonist is far less characterized than the lead but I wonder whether she is intended as a reflection of the shifting values in modern Korea.  Is the director lamenting it?  If so, why do men get off so easily?

If this is a commentary on the commodification of modern Korean’s interests and desires perhaps the two female characters act as signposts of two different generational paradigms.  On the one hand the lead represents a generation that can’t let go of the past while the floozy is an airhead blithely unaware of anything that falls outside of her instant and selfish gratification, though she does get her comeuppance in the end.  She’s even ready and willing for sex on a first date (ostensiby a reward for designer shoes), a rare thing in Korean cinema, also most likely a slur on her character.


The great charm of Penny Pinchers is its easygoing nature and while it sometimes begins to explore bigger issues it is never less than a well-paced and enjoyable film.  A lot of the film’s affableness can be credited to the film’s endearing leads.  I was  not familiar with Han Ye-seul and Song Joong-ki before the film as they have primarily plied their trade in Kdramas but their humour, charisma and charm really make this one of the best romantic comedies of the last few years.  What’s more, while the film does predictably wind down on a melodramatic note, their warmth as performers shines through and guides us serenely through to the film’s climax.

Korean romcoms frequently suffer with their conclusions which often ring false and malign any good groundwork that has been made earlier on but Penny Pinchers deftly handles the combination of pathos, humour and romance that concludes the narrative.  It left me wanting more, in a good way, and I came away very satisified.  Kim Jeong-hwan, a first time writer/director with ample experience in the industry, proves a light touch behind the lens.  A must for romcom fans but also a great standalone film for those who wouldn’t normally seek out such fare.

★★★★☆



Reviews and features on Korean film appear regularly on Modern Korean Cinema.  For film news, external reviews, and box office analysis, take a look at the Korean Box Office UpdateKorean Cinema News and the Weekly Review Round-up, which appear weekly on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings (GMT+1).

To keep up with the best in Korean film you can sign up to our RSS Feed, like us on Facebook, or follow us on Twitter.

Sunday, April 22, 2012

The Front Line (고지전, Gojijeon) 2011


Before getting into a discussion about Jang Hoon’s much-ballyhooed new feature The Front Line, I feel that I should mention that over the years I have had a troubled relationship with war films.  I have seen all kinds, from different eras, different countries, detailing different fights, and espousing all sorts of different points of view.  On a cold Sunday afternoon, there isn’t a whole lot that can beat a repeat viewing of seminal classics like David Lean’s The Bridge on the River Kwai (1956), John Sturges’ The Great Escape (1963), or Billy Wilder’s Stalag 17 (1953).  Those are actually all POW (Prisoner of War) films but there is a great wealth of others that I can always return to, including: Masaki Kobayashi’s The Human Condition trilogy (1959-1961), Kon Ichikawa’s The Burmese Harp (1956) and Fires on the Plain (1959), Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now (1979) or HBO’s 10-part mini-series Band of Brothers (2001).

When the elements fall into place, a good war film is one of the most engaging types of entertainment across any medium but that correct balance is a difficult thing to achieve.  War films differ from other genres as they are naturally rooted in spectacle, feature little to no romance or indeed female protagonists, and must frequently sacrifice characters on the battlefield.  What’s more, rather than following a personal trajectory, the main thrust of the narrative is often consumed by a story far greater than the leads that we are to bond with on screen.

More and more I find myself apprehensive when I hear about a new war film since I don’t think they make them as well as they used to.  Regarding past conflicts like WWII and Vietnam, it feels like most of the great films have already been made.  The immediacy has past and while revisionism and objectivism can motivate new and interesting views on these military operations, for the most part, the ‘epic’ feel of these past films is a rare achievement in today’s cinematic landscape.


Before watching The Front Line, my expectations were mixed.  On the one hand it is Jang Hoon’s third film and his previous two, Secret Reunion (2010) and especially Rough Cut (2008), have been great films.  On the other, it is a war film and, as I have outlined, my relationship with these is problematic.  More troubling still was the mixed reaction it received from many critics and cinephiles whose opinion I trust, although it also received significant industry recognition, including Best Film accolades at the Daejong Film Awards and the Critics’ Choice Awards, which somewhat offset my reservations.

In 1953 during the Korean war, lengthy negotiations are underway for a ceasefire, while the fight rages on for the Aerok Hill, the possession of which switches endlessly between the North and the South.  After a company commander of the South Korea army is found dead as a result of friendly fire, Kang Eun-pyo (Shin Ha-kyun) is sent to the front line to investigate.  He meets a friend there, Kim Soo-hyeok (Ko Soo), who he assumed had died but has in fact turned into a seasoned soldier.  The whole company is battle-hardened and due to significant casualties the officers are youths who have long since lost their innocence.  Alligator company continues to wage war for a small hill as the peace talks drag on, with no end in sight.

There is a steadily growing canon of Korean War films (to be clear I mean those made by Koreans) which include Taegukgi (2004), Welcome to Dongmakgol (2005), and 71: Into the Fire (2010).  As it happens, these are all great films but they are also heavily focused on the relationship between North and South Korea, though less explicitly in the case of 71.  Such a thematic strand is inevitable but it is also unique.  It serves to separate Korean war films from other military oeuvres.  The Front Line deals with this issue head-on from a stance that seeks to call to mind the futility of war, the archetypal theme of the war film.  While it addresses this theme effectively it can’t be said to be too original, I preferred Taegukgi’s unsubtle but apt metaphor of brothers being torn apart which paralleled the much larger proceedings surrounding them, one, by the way, which is rehashed in here in the relationship between Eun-pyo and Soo-hyeok


Park Sang-yeon’s script is grandiloquent in its exploration of this theme, brimming with pithy aphorisms such as “The whole world is telling us to fight, but this fog is telling us not to” and “Do you know why you're losing? Because you don't know why you're fighting”.  We are so accustomed to anti-war messages that when heavy-handed interjections such as these come along they tend to come off as trite.  War films are a worthwhile form of entertainment but they need to have more to express than this oft-mined topic.  The problem is that The Front Line feels like a chamber piece where this one motif reverberates off of everything, drubbing you with its ethical superiority.

Furthermore, the single location used for the bulk of the film, despite numerous styles and visual tricks used to render it more interesting, reinforce this feeling of it being a chamber piece.  The film feels small, though perhaps deliberatly so as Jang aims for a claustrophobic atmosphere in the battlefield and frequently breaks rules of spacial mapping which serve to disorient us.  Despite this, the battles scenes are often impressive, a number of great tracking shots and large, magnificent canvasses are extremely effective.  

The Front Line is well made and features some stunning production design as well as some strong cinematography, I particularly liked the heavy Dutch tilts of some of the shots.  By and large though, it feels like a missed opportunity.  Jang exhibits a sure hand as a filmmaker but his big style can't overcome a disappointing script, especially as it segues into a mawkish and protracted finale after giving us a false climax.  The film is well worth a watch though, for some strong performances, especially from Shin Ha-kyun and Lee Je-hoon, and some very convincing set pieces.

The Cine-Asia release of The Front Line is out on DVD/Blu-ray February 27 in the UK.


★★★☆☆


Reviews and features on Korean film appear regularly on Modern Korean Cinema.  For film news, external reviews, and box office analysis, take a look at the Korean Box Office UpdateKorean Cinema News and the Weekly Review Round-up, which appear weekly on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings (GMT+1).

To keep up with the best in Korean film you can sign up to our RSS Feed, like us on Facebook, or follow us on Twitter.

Saturday, April 21, 2012

Disney, Nostalgia, and Politics in Sunny (써니, Sseo-ni) 2011

First day at school – a Disney moment

Delve into any well-balanced childhood and you’re sure to find a candy store: our ephemeral youth’s source of confectionary delights and perpetual euphoria.  During my childhood I had a particularly aggressive sweet tooth and the easiest way to motivate my obedience or to inspire my eternal adoration was to drag me into a store full of sweets. I grew older and these gave way to popcorn as I found myself gazing up at the silver screen, the candy store of my adulthood.  Between these two worlds lies a transition and at the forefront of it, an enduring symbol that came both before and will likely remain long after.  I speak of Disney, the dream factory that is also the world’s most powerful media conglomerate.  It is a kaleidoscopic candy store that titillates our senses beyond our sweet-craving taste buds.  It is also calculating, cloying, and devious but I seek not to denigrate its brilliant success, merely to point out what makes it so infectious: formula.

Just like the chemicals that bind together to delight our youthful, undeveloped palates in the candy store, the Walt Disney Company applies a rigid, time-tested formula to all of its products.  The formula has many permutations and its application is effectuated, for film and animation, through themes, morals, and standards, but also by way of a carefully constructed mise-en-scene.  When done right, as it often is by Disney and even more frequently by its subsidiary Pixar, the result is clear: a good film that is guaranteed a solid ROI.

'Sunny' reconnects in the present

Recently, Koreans were bowled over by the extraordinary success of Sunny, a seemingly small production, as it laid local blockbusters to waste throughout the long summer doldrums, at least until War of the Arrows came along to save some face for the industry.  First off I would like to contest the fact that Sunny was an unexpected sleeper hit.  The media certainly portrayed it as such, and the people behind the film were happy to go along with that story, as an underdog’s success is always more palatable to the viewer.  I believe that Sunny, in the revered tradition of the great Mouse house, relied on an intricate formula designed to hit all the right buttons.  I’m certain that the filmmakers knew that they had a hit on their hands, if not quite aware of the heights that it would soar to.

When handled poorly, formula can sound the death bells for a film but when done right, both the filmmakers and the spectators reap the rewards.  A recent New Yorker profile of Andrew Stanton, the director of Finding Nemo (2003), Wall-E (2008), and the upcoming John Carter (2012), revealed the inner workings of the world’s most successful and consistent animation production house.  Pixar films, as it turns out, are always a work in progress, early drafts and cuts are put forward to the Braintrust, an in-house think tank that collaboratively repairs any perceived problems.  As Stanton said, “We're in this weird, hermetically sealed freakazoid place where everyone's tying their best to do their best – and the films still suck for three of the four years it takes to make them.”

Unsuspecting

Sunny begins in the present and focusses on the comfortable life of mother and wife Na-mi.  She visits her mother in hospital and recognizes a cancer-stricken occupant of an adjacent private room, an old high school friend whom she hasn’t seen in 25 years.  They were close and part of a band of seven friends called ‘Sunny’.  Saddened by her friend’s illness but reinvigorated with nostalgia she goes home and listens to one of her favorite songs from the 1980s.  Soon after, she drives by her old school and witnesses a hoard of uniformed children making their way up the cobbled path leading towards the gate.  She injects herself into the crowd and with the help of some dizzying camerawork, clever editing, a Disney-esque theme song, and an across the board costume change, she is transported back to the 1980s, the scene of her youth.  Today is the young Na-mi’s first day in a new school.

I don’t know what the developmental process was for Sunny but it is something I would be very keen to find out a little more about.  The exquisite craft in its making seems effortless, which almost always means that a huge amount of effort was expended to get it to that point.  During the first transition to the past, on the path to the school, I was immediately reminded of Disney, and that impression sunk as I delved deeper into the narrative.  Sunny was awarded, among other notable prizes, Best Editing at last month’s 31st Daejong Film Awards (the Korean equivalent to the Oscars).  Now that I have seen it, I can see that there was really no competition in that category.  Rarely is any film, let alone a Korean one, so well edited.  The look, feel, and especially the nostalgia of the film reminds me of one of my personal favorites, the criminally overlooked French Canadian coming of age film C.R.A.Z.Y. (2003).  Particularly the magnificent moment in the scene where the young Na-mi follows the boy she likes to a café bar, when he comes up from behind and puts his headphones on her, instantly flooding the soundtrack with an engrossing song.  The nostalgia effect is crucial to Sunny’s success, but far-be-it from only appealing to adults who came of age in the 1980s, the radiating, bombastic, and positively addictive soundtrack is, just like C.R.A.Z.Y., one of the chief elements which makes it nigh on impossible to resist.

Surprised/engrossed

The flashback sequences, which take up a little more than half of the film’s running time, are, like our merry band of youthful protagonists, sunny.  In fact, they are positively sundrenched.  Considering how much it rains Korea, this seems like an element that has been exaggerated to more effectively transport the audience, collectively, back to their youth, or at least the parts we like to remember.  Of course memory is very deceptive and we do frequently remember things differently from the way they actually happened.  Colours are also exaggerated in the film, for instance the predominant ones in the present are monochromatic: from the black and white of the school uniforms; the clean sunlit living room of Na-mi’s home; the caustic white of the hospital’s rooms and corridors; and the general lack of colour in the wintry surroundings.  In the past, the colour palate is explosive: the bold primaries of the un-uniformed children; the many different Nike bags; the make-up; the accessories; and the verdant colours of spring.

The 1980s, just like much of the 20th century, were a difficult time for Korea.  A few years earlier, one autocratic president (Park Chung-hee) was assassinated and replaced with another (Chun Doo-hwan) and then the decade got off to an awful start with the infamous Gwangju massacre.  It was only near the end of the decade that signs of a more liberated Korea began to emerge.  Sunny’s protagonists seem to live in a bubble: they are more concerned with their Nike handbags than with the political turmoil of the period.  They are young and perhaps they do not understand what is going on but the film prominently features indications of troubled times: Na-mi’s brother is a political activist and is at odds with his parents; platoons of soldiers entertain themselves in alleys as others go about their business.  In one of the film’s most memorable scenes, ‘Sunny’ goes head to head with a rival gang alongside student activists battling it out with riot police.  Their behavior references the jop’ok (gang) culture which pervades the flashbacks of the film.  Their leader Choon-hwa (Kang So-ra) is reminiscent of both Jang Dong-gun in Friend (2001) and Kwon Sang-woo in Once Upon a Time in High School (2004).  While the popularity of gang culture in the 1980s may well have had something to do with the social ills of the time, I wondered how 'Sunny' could be so disconnected with what was happening around them.  Is it apathy, ignorance, or escapism?  In any case, for some of the characters, things don’t end up so sunny, so perhaps this signifies that, ultimately, no one in Korea was immune to the troubles of the time.

Rival girl gangs against the backdrop
of political turmoil

The film features a lot of protagonists and twice as many actors to portray them in both the past and the present, naturally a lot of the success of the film relies on how well they inhabit their roles and how they interact with one another.  Thankfully, the cast is fit for the task and uniformly wonderful, they make Sunny a joy to watch.  Particularly impressive is Shim Eun-kyeong as the young Na-mi, while very eccentric, her performance shows off her great comic timing and her endearing naivety.  While only 16, she has already built up an impressive resume, including: Possessed (2009), The Quiz Show Scandal (2010), and Romantic Heaven (2011).

As previously mentioned, the editing in Sunny is masterful.  It is also well complemented by spirited cinematography, great costumes, and strong production design.  All of these elements come together under the direction of Kang Hyeong-cheol, who expertly bring to life his own sensational script.  Kang previously made the enormously successful Scandal Makers (2008) but he has outdone himself this time around by deftly applying a formula of friendship, music, memory, social commentary, and a little Disney Magic, to what will easily be one of the finest films of 2011.

★★★★☆

The young protagonists of Sunny

Reviews and features on Korean film appear regularly on Modern Korean Cinema.  For film news, external reviews, and box office analysis, take a look at the Korean Box Office UpdateKorean Cinema News and the Weekly Review Round-up, which appear weekly on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings (GMT+1).

To keep up with the best in Korean film you can sign up to our RSS Feed, like us on Facebook, or follow us on Twitter.

Thursday, April 12, 2012

The Day He Arrives (북촌 방향, Book-chon Bang-hyang) 2011


As far as the critical discourse of Korean cinema goes, few filmmakers have a more commanding presence than Hong Sang-soo, whose flowing narratives often feel like chapters in the same grand story.  In a sense, his body of work reminds me of some of the 19th century’s most prolific French writers, such as Honoré de Balzac and Émile Zola whose main outputs consisted of The Human Comedy and the Rougon-Macquart cycles, which consisted of 91 and 20 volumes respectively.  In these exceedingly rich opuses, the French wordsmiths crafted dense worlds, which mirrored the societies they lived in and repeated the same themes and concerns through similar stories and with large casts of revolving characters.

Hong’s output is much less concerned with the high-flown dramatics of the far-reaching stories of these previously mentioned collections.  Indeed his films, especially for an uninitiated viewer, offer a vague semblance of banality and rarely fall into the trap of narrative twists or plot contrivances, choosing to focus on the everyday rather than the extremes of life.  What he shares with Balzac and Zola is a keen interest in realism.  For the French writers this style was labeled naturalism and often explored social injustice and the inescapable force of heredity in the shaping of human characters.  While Hong’s films do not share those specific traits, they do exhibit a similarly acute infatuation with repetition.  People make the same choices and mistakes over and over again.  It’s a funny thing about reviews of Hong’s work but more than most other filmmakers, his whole career tends to be put under the microscope, likely because his films so resemble one another. 


But that’s enough about Hong’s previous films for the moment, let’s talk about his new one The Day He Arrives, which is his 12th.  For his new feature, Hong has opted to shoot in black and white, something he hasn’t done since his third film Virgin Stripped Bare By Her Bachelors (2000), which really put him on the map (so much for not talking about his other films).  The story takes place over a few days and follows Seong-joon (Yoo Joon-sang), a filmmaker on hiatus, as he briefly returns to Seoul to meet up with old friends and girlfriends and make new acquaintances, mostly during sessions of eating and drinking.

Repetition is an integral part of Hong’s new film, there are few actions or pieces of dialogue that are not replayed during its brief running time (79 minutes).  Eating, drinking, or smoking accompanies every scene and it’s not for nothing.  Typically, these three actions are endlessly repeated throughout our lives (unless you quit drinking or smoking) irrespective of the change we may perceive in ourselves and others.  As Hong’s characters shuffle about the same bars and restaurants and engage in cyclical discussions about their concerns for the past, present, and future, their layers of outward calm gradually come undone and we get closer to the raw emotions and neuroses at their core.


Early on in The Day He Arrives Seong-joon drops in drunk and unannounced on his ex-girlfriend, whom he hasn’t seen for a few years.  It’s an emotional moment as we are first confronted with her anger at his having seemingly abandoned her, but soon after it becomes clear that they both still have very strong feelings for one another.  After sharing a tender moment he leaves but not before stating that they should refrain from engaging in any further communication.  Nevertheless, she texts him occasionally throughout the rest of the film, while he embarks on an amorous encounter with a bar owner who is her doppelganger (played by the same actress, Kim Bo-kyeong).  It is never explained why they split but the fact that there is some reason that they can’t be together is alluded to.

It is said that throughout life we tend to repeat our previous mistakes.  Seong-joon is clearly hiding from something as he dodders around the countryside on an indefinite break from filmmaking and his return to Seoul forces him to confront these past troubles.  Though since we are not privy to very much information, it is hard to say to what degree he does this.  He abandoned both his girlfriend and career as he ran away from Seoul and it is possible he did so through some fear of commitment or growing up.  On his return to the capital he is frequently asked when he will make his next film, his answers are uniformly vague and noncommittal.  After bedding his girlfriend’s lookalike, he leaves her in the morning, offering her much same words as he did to his ex a few days earlier, that they shouldn’t see each other anymore.


Hong seems to have settled more and more into his idiosyncratic style of filmmaking as his films have gotten progressively funnier.  The Day He Arrives is frequently hilarious and while it has a fairly tight structure it seems effortless and relaxed, this is in large part due to the performances that he draws from his leads (especially Yoo and Kim Sang-joon), which are very naturalistic.  He also plays around a little bit with the mise-en-scene, something he does with most of his films, like the freezeframe dialogues that punctuate HaHaHa (2010).  During a number of the midshots, most of which take place at drinking or eating establishments with two characters sitting on one side of a table facing another across from them, Hong quickly zooms in, pushing the protagonists to the very edges of the frame.  The effect is deliberately jarring and the claustrophobic reframing creates a more intense atmosphere which often signals the beginning of a confrontation.

For me The Day He Arrives turned into a fairly personal experience as much of it hit close to home and I am sure that I am not the only person who experienced this.  Hong Sang-soo is an artist who trades in the everyday; his currency is the prosaic minutiae of the exchanges and relationships that make up our lives.  Just like the great French naturalists, he succeeds in burrowing down to our core by forcing us to look inwards, again and again, until we recognize ourselves in a simple shrug of the shoulders or a little white lie.  I look forward to the next volume in Hong’s oeuvre, to experience his wit and craft anew and perhaps to discover a little bit more about myself.

★★★★

The Day He Arrives opens in New York on April 20 at Lincoln Plaza Cinemas before expanding across the US.  Hong Sang-soo's latest is being distributed by Cinema Guild, which will announce new markets on its playdates page, so make sure to check back to see if it plays near you.


Reviews and features on Korean film appear regularly on Modern Korean Cinema.  For film news, external reviews, and box office analysis, take a look at the Korean Box Office UpdateKorean Cinema News and the Weekly Review Round-up, which appear weekly on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings (GMT+1).

To keep up with the best in Korean film you can sign up to our RSS Feed, like us on Facebook, or follow us on Twitter.

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Wanna Help Make a Korean Film? Here's Your Chance!

There's a new and exciting Korean film on the way and you can help make it happen!  Lee Yoon-jung is looking to turn her excellent short Remember O Goddess into a feature this summer.  The 25-minute piece, a polished and intriguing affair, can be viewed below:



You may recognize the lead actor, the versatile character actor Kim Jung-tae whose lengthy career stretched all the way back to Park Kwang-su's Uprising (1999) and also includes such highlights as Kwak Kyung-taek's Friend (2001) and Lee Myung-se's Duelist (2005).  However, perhaps my favorite of his roles is in Banga? Banga! (2010) as the larger-then-life owner of a karaoke bar.

Lee's upcoming feature has a strong team of professionals assembled, including the editor of Bong Joon-ho's magnificent Mother (2009), and seems poised to be one of the most interesting Korean independent films on the horizon.

The production is looking for a little funding and has launched a Kickstarter project to raise the $30,000 by May 10 to complete this summer's shoot.  Please consider supporting this exciting project and remember that you can donate however much you feel comfortable with and if you've ever wanted to see your name in the credits of a Korean film, this is your chance!

I really enjoyed the short version of Remember O Goddess and I want to know what happens next so I'll be looking forward to seeing Lee's vision in its entirety.





Reviews and features on Korean film appear regularly on Modern Korean Cinema.  For film news, external reviews, and box office analysis, take a look at the Korean Box Office UpdateKorean Cinema News and the Weekly Review Round-up, which appear weekly on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings (GMT+1).

To keep up with the best in Korean film you can sign up to our RSS Feed, like us on Facebook, or follow us on Twitter.

Monday, March 19, 2012

Interview: 'The Front Line' Director Jang Hoon

With three big films under his belt, Jang Hoon is now seen as one of Korea's top directing talents.  His films have met with great success but they have also been critically acclaimed.  His male-centric, dual protagonist narratives explore ambiguous but often familiar territory.  They are films that have highlighted the paradoxical social ills of Korea but they are also engaging thrillers that have attracted droves of spectators to the theatres with their potent mix of wry humour and sharp plotting.

Jang burst out on to the scene in 2008 with Rough Cut, penned and produced by his then mentor Kim Ki-duk, a blistering gangster film that cleverly confuses the lines between the gangster and filmmaking worlds.  As well as being one of the most fascinating genre films to come out of South Korea in recent times, Rough Cut is also a supremely entertaining satire.  His next film was the blockbuster Secret Reunion, starring Song Kang-ho and Kang Dong-won as a former South Korean agent and a North Korean spy who form an unlikely partnership.  Humour plays a big part in Jang's sophomore feature despite its weighty subject matter.  It went on to become the second-highest grossing film of 2010.

Jang's latest is The Front Line, a Korean war film that chronicles the interminable final leg of the battle for Aerok hill as armistice talks dragged on for over a year in the waning days of the struggle.  Shin Ha-kyun and Ko Soo headline a top cast and Jang's impressively made feature was last year's official Korean Oscar submission.

Recently, MKC was able to ask him a few questions courtesy of Cine-Asia to coincide with the recent UK release of The Front Line on DVD and Blu-Ray.  He talks about Lee Chang-dong, cinematography, the division of the Korean peninsula and his new film The Front Line:


1. In terms of structure, The Front Line is quite different from other war films.   How did you and writer Park Sang-yeon choose to approach this?

I came onboard to this project after a draft of the script was completed by writer Park and the producer.  Park and I shared lots of ideas while revising the script and during the pre-production, more plot details were ironed out.

2. Over the last decade a number of high profile Korean war films have been released.   With The Front Line, what were you hoping to add to this impressive group of films?

The film tells the story of how the war ended, whereas many other films start from its beginning.  There is still a long road ahead before peace settles in this peninsula and I wanted to show this movie, especially to younger generations, to allow them to question the historic war and the current North-South relationship.

3. Your last two features have explicitly dealt with the rift on the Korean peninsula, do you find yourself particularly drawn to this subject?

Living in the only divided country in the world, we (Koreans) all have some interest in the relationship between the North and the South.  Being one of them and sharing this common interest, I started to develop this story with that in mind.

4. You have worked with different cinematographers (Kim Woo-hyung, Lee Mo-gae, and Kim Gi-tae) on each of your films, which as a result are quite distinct from one another.   Is this a conscious decision to separate the style of each film and how would you describe your working relationship with your directors of photography?

Due to the different circumstances of previous films, I have worked with three different cinematographers and thanks to their distinctive characteristics I was able to accumulate unique experiences and partnerships.  We had many discussions concerning the most suitable cinematographic style for each film.

5. You made your debut as a director at a time when the future of Korean cinema seemed uncertain.  How do you feel the industry has progressed since then and what do you think the future holds in store for Korean film?

Korean audiences are very adept with the internet and social networks, which have become strong media for films.  How they choose and judge a film has drastically changed.  While many Korean films fared well last year, some blockbusters did not come close to reaching their expected outcomes.  It shows that audiences are not drawn to typical dramas or expensive films anymore and in order to be more successful in this market, we have to keep developing new content and constantly evolve.

6. Would you be able to tell us a little about your future projects?

I don’t have any particular project in mind, yet, but some potential projects are being considered.

7. Finally, could you tell us what your favorite Korean films are?

Personally, I like the films of Lee Chang-dong.  All his films are great and my favorites are Secret Sunshine (2007) and Poetry (2010).


Many thanks to Louise Rivers at Cine-Asia for setting up the interview!

Modern Korean Cinema's review of The Front Line.




Reviews and features on Korean film appear regularly on Modern Korean Cinema.  For film news, external reviews, and box office analysis, take a look at the Korean Box Office UpdateKorean Cinema News and the Weekly Review Round-up, which appear weekly on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings (GMT+1).

To keep up with the best in Korean film you can sign up to our RSS Feed, like us on Facebook, or follow us on Twitter.

Friday, March 16, 2012

Weekly Review Round-up (03/10-03/16, 2012)

Another huge Weekly Review Round-up as the Korean blogathon came to an end.  A great wealth of films covered stretching across every time, genre and style you could imagine.

Enjoy!


CURRENT KOREAN RELEASES


(The One One Four, March 14, 2012)

(Scene in Korea, March 9, 2012)

(hancinema.net, March 10, 2012)

(Scene in Korea, March 10, 2012)


RECENT RELEASES


(Unseen Films, March 10, 2012)

Blind

(We Eat Lemon, March 10, 2012)

(Film in Asian, March 12, 2012)

(cineAWESOME!, March 11, 2012)

(VCinema, March 9, 2012)

(Unseen Films, March 11, 2012)

(Far East Films, March 11, 2012)

(KOFFIA Blog, March 11, 2012)

(Hanguk Yeonghwa, March 13, 2012)

(Unseen Films, March 10, 2012)

(Hangul Celluloid, March 10, 2012)

(YAM Magazine, March 11, 2012)

(The Montreal Gazette, March 8, 2012)

(Init_Scenes, March 13, 2012)

The Yellow Sea

War of the Arrows


PAST FILMS


(YAM Magazine, March 11, 2012)

A Bittersweet Life, 2005

(Flying Guillotine, March 8, 2012)

(Rainy Day Movies 9, 2012)

Bad Guy, 2001
(Next Projection, March 12, 2012)

(We Eat Lemon, March 10, 2012)

Dream, 2008
(Next Projection, March 13, 2012)

Duelist, 2005
(Rainy Day Movies 7, 2012)

Epitaph, 2007
(VCinema, March 8, 2012)

Haeundae, 2009
(Hong Kong Rewind, March 9, 2012)

(Orion's Ramblings, March 11, 2012)

(Podcasts Without Honor and Humanity, March 9, 2012)

(Unseen Films, March 9, 2012)

M, 2007
(Rainy Day Movies 7, 2012)

Marathon, 2005

Mother, 2009
(At the Cinema, March 11, 2012)

(Unseens Films, March 11, 2012)

(Korean Grindhouse, March 5, 2012)

(Rainy Day Movies 7, 2012)

Oasis, 2002
(Rainy Day Movies 8, 2012)

Oishii Man, 2008
(Podcasts Without Honor and Humanity, March 6, 2012)

(Rainy Day Movies 8, 2012)

(Rainy Day Movies 9, 2012)

(Rainy Day Movies 9, 2012)

Rikidozan, 2004
(VCinema, March 11, 2012)

Sky Blue, 2003
(VCinema, March 9, 2012)

(Greetings From Movie City, March 8, 2012)

(Oriental Film House, March 10, 2012)

Tigresses, 1977
(Planet Choco Zine, March 9, 2012)

Time, 2006
(Next Projection, March 11, 2012)

Truck, 2007
(Unseen Films, March 9, 2012)



The Weekly Review Round-up is a weekly feature which brings together all available reviews of Korean films in the English language (and sometimes French) that have recently appeared on the internet. It is by no means a comprehensive feature and additions are welcome (email pierceconran [at] gmail [dot] com). It appears every Friday morning (GMT+1) on Modern Korean Cinema. For other weekly features, take a look at Korean Cinema News, and the Korean Box Office UpdateReviews and features on Korean film also appear regularly on the site. 

To keep up with the best in Korean film you can sign up to our RSS Feed, like us on Facebook, or follow us on Twitter.