Showing posts with label Korean cinema. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Korean cinema. Show all posts
July 16, 2012
Mother
This Korean movie is, on the surface of it, about a mother's desperate efforts to prove the innocence of her retard son who has just been accused of murder. In the last ten to fifteen minutes however, it becomes an observation on human nature and what it can drive us to do in the name of love. 'Mother' gave a virtuous performance, especially in the closing sequence when she dances in the open field to the music only we can hear. It feels as if she is then completely free - beyond any moral boundaries.
With this film, Boon Joon-ho proves once again his power in depicting the blurring of the conventional moral boundaries.
May 07, 2012
Sopyonjie
It took enormous patience to sit through this slow pace film featured by regular and lengthy performance of a dying art form pansori. Accompanied only by a hint of drum, the traditional solo recital can sound rather monotonous, especially when the performer has to remain absolute passive throughout and voice becomes the only vehicle they can resort to. But despite the challenge to a foreign audience, it has a drawing power to keep you stay on to see what happens to those wanderers and guardians of a dying art. This is unexpected rewarded when the two siblings reunited briefly after years of separation and sat in the small rundown inn to perform the most challenging piece in their repertoire in great harmony and with repressed longing for each other.
This is an exquisite film.
January 15, 2012
Welcome to Dongmakgol
I tend to find 'blockbusters' dull and too eager to please but this one is a breath of fresh air.
People from different backgrounds and with conflicting ideologies had to stay together before going their separate ways. Gradually though under the influence of the pacific villagers, they found their inner desire for peace and learnt to appreciate each other as just human beings.
There are many clever use of minor characters or proms for character depiction purpose. The role of a 'crazy girl', the boar are just two of the most distinguishing ones that showcase how humour and humanity can be intertwined into a film about, on first appearance, conflict and war.
People from different backgrounds and with conflicting ideologies had to stay together before going their separate ways. Gradually though under the influence of the pacific villagers, they found their inner desire for peace and learnt to appreciate each other as just human beings.
There are many clever use of minor characters or proms for character depiction purpose. The role of a 'crazy girl', the boar are just two of the most distinguishing ones that showcase how humour and humanity can be intertwined into a film about, on first appearance, conflict and war.
January 12, 2012
Spring summer fall winter...spring
While I was watching the film, one of the things that amazed me the most was that there seems to be so many Korean films in the last decade that are so simple in format, with barely-there dialogues and few characters. The Way Home, A Brand New Life, Treeless Mountain, for example, all have minimalist plots and the power of the film come from subtle character depiction featuring non-professional actors.
Now that I know it has the same director for 3-Iron and Time, I am surprised I didn't recognise his signature styles straightaway.
Now that I know it has the same director for 3-Iron and Time, I am surprised I didn't recognise his signature styles straightaway.
January 09, 2012
Attack the gas station!
Having just finished Midnight FM, I was a bit worried at the first half hour if Attack the Gas Station! was another one of those films that depict extreme violence for its own sake. Indeed, although Midnight FM seems to suggest that the motive behind the violence and kidnap is 'heroic' and 'justified' because the taxi driver believes he is taking law by his own hands, it doesn't make much of an effort to convince us so. Though the film could feel compelling at points, you can never get rid of the bugging feeling there are far too many loose plots to make the story convincing.
Attack the Gas Station was quite close to reaching the point that it is one of those films. Yet the director has quite cleverly steered us away from this thought with two crafts: the depiction of those patrons at the gas station, and later on, the intermitting flashbacks of the four young delinquents. When their nonsensical criminal act was put in the context of the overall crudeness, greediness (of the police force) and violence, it does not only draw sympathy towards the delinquents but also gradually, made them appear human (the singer love music that much that he demand various people to sing for him), funny (in front of a 'beautiful' lady, one of them subjected her to take off a piece of garment every time when she loses in a word puzzle), and even dignified and brave (when the baseball player demanded payment from the police for the gas and sends away a gangster whose mum is 'ill'). Their success in the end at realising their dream and getting away from the punishment therefore seems justified.
Attack the Gas Station was quite close to reaching the point that it is one of those films. Yet the director has quite cleverly steered us away from this thought with two crafts: the depiction of those patrons at the gas station, and later on, the intermitting flashbacks of the four young delinquents. When their nonsensical criminal act was put in the context of the overall crudeness, greediness (of the police force) and violence, it does not only draw sympathy towards the delinquents but also gradually, made them appear human (the singer love music that much that he demand various people to sing for him), funny (in front of a 'beautiful' lady, one of them subjected her to take off a piece of garment every time when she loses in a word puzzle), and even dignified and brave (when the baseball player demanded payment from the police for the gas and sends away a gangster whose mum is 'ill'). Their success in the end at realising their dream and getting away from the punishment therefore seems justified.
December 22, 2011
Happy life
This is another surprise find; an upbeat film about three middle-aged men realising their college dreams of forming a band, with solid performances from the four leads. Though the tone is light-hearted, it does touch upon the Asian culture - so acutely captured by a casual comment from the teenager daughter of the band leader: being in a band is better than being unemployed. Though it is a man's film, it has a universal appeal: how we lost our dreams in the face of reality and what it takes to realise it despite of the challenges.
Jang Guan-suk's role as a guitarist and lead singer in the band predates his apparently much more high profile similar roles in television dramas such as Beethoven's Virus and You Are Beautiful. It shows that he was already a confident actor at that tender age.
The film also serves to remind me the drastic difference in Korean cinema and dramas in their deployment of cast: while the former would normally allow them to appear in their own skin, the latter is consistent in projecting an immaculate look across the board. In other words, while Korean cinema tend to look more realistic, their drama counterpart looks artificial and packed with cosmetically enhanced actresses, if not actors as well.
Jang Guan-suk's role as a guitarist and lead singer in the band predates his apparently much more high profile similar roles in television dramas such as Beethoven's Virus and You Are Beautiful. It shows that he was already a confident actor at that tender age.
The film also serves to remind me the drastic difference in Korean cinema and dramas in their deployment of cast: while the former would normally allow them to appear in their own skin, the latter is consistent in projecting an immaculate look across the board. In other words, while Korean cinema tend to look more realistic, their drama counterpart looks artificial and packed with cosmetically enhanced actresses, if not actors as well.
December 12, 2011
Treeless Mountain
Watched Singles and Treeless Mountain over the weekend, and discovered the 'hidden' treasures of Korean cinema all over again.
The first one, Singles, made in 2003, revolved around two women who are soon to turn 30. Both struggling to find a satisfactory career, they have however decided against an easy option for women of their age circumstances in Asian countries - to get married the man available at the time, which renders their career a secondary issue in effect - and have instead insisted on staying true to their heart, despite the challenges awaiting ahead as a single woman over their first flush of beauty. This is really a woman's film, not only because it is from their prospective, their desire and aspirations, the story is told, but also because the bonding between the two is one of the most engaging elements throughout. The subtle performances from the four leads add a lot to the charm of it as well.
If Singles can appeal to the mass audience without compromising its artistic integrity, Treeless Mountain is a typical art house daring that could be a challenge due to its slow pace, its unusual camerawork, the sparse dialogues, if not the plots. While the story and the use of non-professional actors etc reminds me of another low profile yet unexpectedly satisfying The Way Home, Treeless Mountain deals with more unsettling issues, the deserted children left to a not so welcoming relative, the relationship of the siblings who were put to test of all sorts at such a tender age, which contributes to the initial uncomfortable watching experience. To the credits of the writer-cum-director, and no less of her crew, the film managed to keep me stay tuned despite the unusual camerawork that keeps at the eye level of the two child actresses aged five and seven, the more than usual close-up shots, the 'ordinary' faces of the two leads that tell the story of the hearts and project depth in their changes of inside world. While the story in itself might not be a new one, the capturing of the change of relationship between the siblings and theirs with the outside world is human and certainly a triumph. It is a work of great confidence and very touching at many points, especially when they change all the ten cent coins to one cent ones in order to fill up the piggy - which is supposed to lead to their mother's return.
After watching the special feature where the director and her foreign crew met their audience in New York, I thought it could make a very interesting case if one compares it to The Brand New Life, which is also shot by a woman director who brings with her long term overseas experience (I am making this assumption based on the appearance and the fluency of Treeless Mountain's director's English as well as her witty and confident responses to the audience.) Some interesting questions can be asked such as if their more Westernised outlook (and closer than usual associations with the Western world) has made them to inspect their native country and its people differently from their 'domestic' colleagues.
The first one, Singles, made in 2003, revolved around two women who are soon to turn 30. Both struggling to find a satisfactory career, they have however decided against an easy option for women of their age circumstances in Asian countries - to get married the man available at the time, which renders their career a secondary issue in effect - and have instead insisted on staying true to their heart, despite the challenges awaiting ahead as a single woman over their first flush of beauty. This is really a woman's film, not only because it is from their prospective, their desire and aspirations, the story is told, but also because the bonding between the two is one of the most engaging elements throughout. The subtle performances from the four leads add a lot to the charm of it as well.
If Singles can appeal to the mass audience without compromising its artistic integrity, Treeless Mountain is a typical art house daring that could be a challenge due to its slow pace, its unusual camerawork, the sparse dialogues, if not the plots. While the story and the use of non-professional actors etc reminds me of another low profile yet unexpectedly satisfying The Way Home, Treeless Mountain deals with more unsettling issues, the deserted children left to a not so welcoming relative, the relationship of the siblings who were put to test of all sorts at such a tender age, which contributes to the initial uncomfortable watching experience. To the credits of the writer-cum-director, and no less of her crew, the film managed to keep me stay tuned despite the unusual camerawork that keeps at the eye level of the two child actresses aged five and seven, the more than usual close-up shots, the 'ordinary' faces of the two leads that tell the story of the hearts and project depth in their changes of inside world. While the story in itself might not be a new one, the capturing of the change of relationship between the siblings and theirs with the outside world is human and certainly a triumph. It is a work of great confidence and very touching at many points, especially when they change all the ten cent coins to one cent ones in order to fill up the piggy - which is supposed to lead to their mother's return.
After watching the special feature where the director and her foreign crew met their audience in New York, I thought it could make a very interesting case if one compares it to The Brand New Life, which is also shot by a woman director who brings with her long term overseas experience (I am making this assumption based on the appearance and the fluency of Treeless Mountain's director's English as well as her witty and confident responses to the audience.) Some interesting questions can be asked such as if their more Westernised outlook (and closer than usual associations with the Western world) has made them to inspect their native country and its people differently from their 'domestic' colleagues.
November 14, 2011
Daytime drinking
If Lee Chang-dong's films are rough for you, then Daytime Drinking could be an even greater challenge to the viewers. If Lee's films are about the political, social and human conditions that drive its protagonists to a final end, then Daytime Drinking points to another direction: that of the empty life of a young drifter.
Following an alcohol-filled heated debates among four close friends whose setting resembles those of the French cinema, a young man finds himself the only fool to keep that promise by turning up in a supposedly holiday resort in the middle of the dreary, close-down season. The film then follows him when he awaits, in vain, for the arrival of his friend in a shoebox bare room in virtual isolation. The gaps between non-events are so long and the incidents seem so insignificant, that the viewer is rendered the only companion of the acne face drifter until he wakes up alone and shivering in his underpants by the snow-covered roadside. With its loose plots, wintry landscape, unglamorous protagonist and raw cinematograph, one would be excused for mistaking it as a remark of Jia Zhangke's directory debut Xiaoshan Going Home in which the camera follows the immigrant worker's fruitless efforts to find a ticket home, and to a certain degree, it was that comparison that had kept me staying tuned as if to see how it will differ from its 'predecessor'.
While Xiaoshan's hunt for a ticket home ends in vain, the drifter in Daytime Drinking is captured by the dilemma if he should follow another female stranger to a seashore town he has just left, at the risk of repeating the humiliating experience, or, get on a homebound bus. It is then we realise, once and for all, that the series of incidents that lead to his being stripped bare in deep winter is all of his own making; there is a sheer lack of will in the life of this aimless young man.
An insightful character portrait, the film also offers an interesting glimpse on the Korean drinking culture among the young people.
Following an alcohol-filled heated debates among four close friends whose setting resembles those of the French cinema, a young man finds himself the only fool to keep that promise by turning up in a supposedly holiday resort in the middle of the dreary, close-down season. The film then follows him when he awaits, in vain, for the arrival of his friend in a shoebox bare room in virtual isolation. The gaps between non-events are so long and the incidents seem so insignificant, that the viewer is rendered the only companion of the acne face drifter until he wakes up alone and shivering in his underpants by the snow-covered roadside. With its loose plots, wintry landscape, unglamorous protagonist and raw cinematograph, one would be excused for mistaking it as a remark of Jia Zhangke's directory debut Xiaoshan Going Home in which the camera follows the immigrant worker's fruitless efforts to find a ticket home, and to a certain degree, it was that comparison that had kept me staying tuned as if to see how it will differ from its 'predecessor'.
While Xiaoshan's hunt for a ticket home ends in vain, the drifter in Daytime Drinking is captured by the dilemma if he should follow another female stranger to a seashore town he has just left, at the risk of repeating the humiliating experience, or, get on a homebound bus. It is then we realise, once and for all, that the series of incidents that lead to his being stripped bare in deep winter is all of his own making; there is a sheer lack of will in the life of this aimless young man.
An insightful character portrait, the film also offers an interesting glimpse on the Korean drinking culture among the young people.
November 03, 2011
Everybody has secrets
A remake of an Irish film About Adam, it reminds me of a Chinese remake of What Woman Wants starring the most unlikely couple Gong Li and Andy Lau: while a story might work in the Western context, their Asian remakes might feel rather awkward. While the lack of chemistry is the main culprit for the remake of What Woman Wants, Everybody Has Secrets suffers from the fact the cultural nuances has not taken into account in the re-scripting process, resulting from a rather fluffy depiction of the different love affairs, and an ending extremely unsettling. I also find the casting to be disastrous, especially with Lee Hyung-bee being the playboy and Choi Ji-woo the bookworm middle sister. The fact that they are both trying too hard makes the viewing too painful an experience.
October 31, 2011
Secret sunshine
If the angst-ridden film stopped mid-way at the prison scene where the heroine offers her full forgiveness to her son's killer, then it would be a flop and I would stop watching Lee Chang-dong then and there. To my relief, it goes on for another hour or so on how the now disillusioned woman takes revenge on the religion that has once lifted her from extreme pain of losing her beloved son, the townspeople that lead her to put her trust on God, and, finally, even the man who really deserves her affection and love. After a painful journey that ends with rehabilitation after a suicidal attempt, the finale is a 'blank's shot: storming out from a haircut by the reformed daughter of her son's killer, she sat at her sun-lit backyard to finish the cut at home. Her hair falls to the ground, the camera tracks them, and then stays on the dirt before the closing credits come up. Whose point of view is it? The director or the protagonist? And what does it mean? Life is meaningless like the dirt on the ground? Though rather baffled, I have now come to realise there couldn't be a more apt finale, especially given it is from a director who is known for his critics on the contemporary society.
Like other two films I have watched from him, Secret Sunshine tells the lonesome and uneasy struggle of an ordinary citizen who is left to her own device when given a bad deal in life. In Green Fish, it is a bright young man whose fatal encounter with the mistress of a mobster that leads to his demise in a desolate town where none of his family members are finding life easy. In Peppermint Candy, it is the traumatising experience of a young man in the army during the military regime that sows the seeds of his gradual disintegration. None of them makes a comfortable watch, but who says film is for entertainment only?
Like other two films I have watched from him, Secret Sunshine tells the lonesome and uneasy struggle of an ordinary citizen who is left to her own device when given a bad deal in life. In Green Fish, it is a bright young man whose fatal encounter with the mistress of a mobster that leads to his demise in a desolate town where none of his family members are finding life easy. In Peppermint Candy, it is the traumatising experience of a young man in the army during the military regime that sows the seeds of his gradual disintegration. None of them makes a comfortable watch, but who says film is for entertainment only?
October 25, 2011
The classic
A classic tear jerking love triangle, with both Son Ye-jin and Jo Seung-wook giving great performance.
This is another successful creative output from Kwak Jae-yong, famed for his international hit My Sassy Girl. Pity its follow-ups such as Daisy and My Mighty Princess are less impressive though.
This is another successful creative output from Kwak Jae-yong, famed for his international hit My Sassy Girl. Pity its follow-ups such as Daisy and My Mighty Princess are less impressive though.
October 24, 2011
Marathon
What a heart warming story! And a triumphant showcase that the country has some of the best talents in the region when it comes to scripting, directing and acting.
I have seen Jo Seung-woo in both Wanee and Junah and Who R U?, but Marathon is no doubt the best performance from this most talented actor. I am looking forward to check out The Perfect Games, another 'sports' film, to see if he can live up to my expectation now raised so high by his natural performance as an adolescent handicapped by autism but finds back his own voice through participating in a marathon.
There is hardly any plots per se, yet plenty of soul searching in the minute depiction of the mother and son relationship when they forge ahead to overcome the challenges encountered by 'a special child' and those around him.
I wasn't so impressed by the director, Jeong Yoon-chul's later work If I Was a Superman, although it stars two of the country's best actors.
I have seen Jo Seung-woo in both Wanee and Junah and Who R U?, but Marathon is no doubt the best performance from this most talented actor. I am looking forward to check out The Perfect Games, another 'sports' film, to see if he can live up to my expectation now raised so high by his natural performance as an adolescent handicapped by autism but finds back his own voice through participating in a marathon.
There is hardly any plots per se, yet plenty of soul searching in the minute depiction of the mother and son relationship when they forge ahead to overcome the challenges encountered by 'a special child' and those around him.
I wasn't so impressed by the director, Jeong Yoon-chul's later work If I Was a Superman, although it stars two of the country's best actors.
October 03, 2011
Asako in ruby shoes / Virgin stripped bare by her bachelor
Since I was introduced to Korean dramas, I became quickly hooked to modern Korean cinema which was soon turned into an obsession of kind to watch all of those 'well-made' ones since 1999. In explaining it, I often quote genre hybridity and quality performance of all sides in the Korean new wave cinema the source of inspiration, sustained fascination and great entertainment. Unlike many obscure French art cinema and Hollywood mainstream outputs, Korean new wave cinema embodies the magic touch of 'art' with a popular touch.
This perception has been challenged once or twice, by films such as 3-Iron (a film with barely any dialogues), I Am A Cyborg, but That is Alright, and some unconventional romance like One Fine Spring Day. However it had never reached such a disturbing degree as that by the two films I watched over the weekend: Virgin Stripped Bare by Her Bachelors, and Asako in Ruby Shoes, both made and released in 2000, by two, arguably the most 'cerebral', directors of the 396 generation.
Shot in black and white, Virgin feels like a typical Jacque Rivette film that is known for its non-conventional narration. We are not sure from whose point of view the story is related, and to make it even more challenging, the film presents two different versions of the same events, making it even more confusing as to what has actually happened, least of all, what is in the mind of the protagonists. In both versions, the relationship between the couple appears superficial and mysterious, and the female character a mere object of desire. It was no wonder if the nude scenes triggered the suicide of its actress some five years later. She has bared it all in the name of 'art', but owed to the weak narration, her 'sacrifice' does not seem to serve any purpose. The film was said to be a 'hit' with its home audience and was awarded internationally but she appears more like a porn star in it.
If in shooting it in an austere way Virgin has at least the claim for its striking 'aesthetic' values, Asako poses a completely different challenge to audience. The blank face of the protagonist, the wastefulness of his life, the frequent resort to the most unglamorous parallel to any of a Jia Zhangke's works. A civil servant in a provincial town, Lee's character is bored by the petty and insipid assignments at work. A lost soul, his unrequited love for a red-hair migrant girl leads him to an internet porn star Asako. At the meanwhile in a provincial town in Japan, a teenage girl from a middle class family decides to quit school to earn her pocket money, which eventually leads her to perform for the porn site, which her younger brother frequents. Thousands of miles apart, the two suffer from the lack of aspirations and purposes in life and it does appear that they are the making of their own misfortunate. It is hard to identify with or empathise with the protagonists.
While I feel depressed and puzzled watching them, such films offer an entirely different view on Korea and its people from those of the popular Korean dramas. If the depiction of the bored middle class is a indication of its modernisation process, then Korea has indeed arrived; at a similar stage made apparent in the French new wave or Italian neo-realism cinema back in the later 1950s. Like it or not, these offbeat films offer a glimpse into the lives of the contemporary Korean society.
This perception has been challenged once or twice, by films such as 3-Iron (a film with barely any dialogues), I Am A Cyborg, but That is Alright, and some unconventional romance like One Fine Spring Day. However it had never reached such a disturbing degree as that by the two films I watched over the weekend: Virgin Stripped Bare by Her Bachelors, and Asako in Ruby Shoes, both made and released in 2000, by two, arguably the most 'cerebral', directors of the 396 generation.
Shot in black and white, Virgin feels like a typical Jacque Rivette film that is known for its non-conventional narration. We are not sure from whose point of view the story is related, and to make it even more challenging, the film presents two different versions of the same events, making it even more confusing as to what has actually happened, least of all, what is in the mind of the protagonists. In both versions, the relationship between the couple appears superficial and mysterious, and the female character a mere object of desire. It was no wonder if the nude scenes triggered the suicide of its actress some five years later. She has bared it all in the name of 'art', but owed to the weak narration, her 'sacrifice' does not seem to serve any purpose. The film was said to be a 'hit' with its home audience and was awarded internationally but she appears more like a porn star in it.
If in shooting it in an austere way Virgin has at least the claim for its striking 'aesthetic' values, Asako poses a completely different challenge to audience. The blank face of the protagonist, the wastefulness of his life, the frequent resort to the most unglamorous parallel to any of a Jia Zhangke's works. A civil servant in a provincial town, Lee's character is bored by the petty and insipid assignments at work. A lost soul, his unrequited love for a red-hair migrant girl leads him to an internet porn star Asako. At the meanwhile in a provincial town in Japan, a teenage girl from a middle class family decides to quit school to earn her pocket money, which eventually leads her to perform for the porn site, which her younger brother frequents. Thousands of miles apart, the two suffer from the lack of aspirations and purposes in life and it does appear that they are the making of their own misfortunate. It is hard to identify with or empathise with the protagonists.
While I feel depressed and puzzled watching them, such films offer an entirely different view on Korea and its people from those of the popular Korean dramas. If the depiction of the bored middle class is a indication of its modernisation process, then Korea has indeed arrived; at a similar stage made apparent in the French new wave or Italian neo-realism cinema back in the later 1950s. Like it or not, these offbeat films offer a glimpse into the lives of the contemporary Korean society.
September 09, 2011
The good, the bad, the weird
With two of the best Korean actors (Song Kang-ho and Lee Byung-hun) on board, the film, on paper, appealed to me instantly. Yet like a lot of films with high profile actors and yet following a strict genre framework, it didn't work for me. It was a poor copycat of an typical western. And the character played by Lee was a total failure. This was particularly poignant after watching his subtle performance in The Harmonium in My Memory barely 24 hours ago.
September 08, 2011
The harmonium in my memory
I have seen her in The Housemaid, then, My Dear Enemy. It was the early stage of my encounter with Korean media products, and since her character in The Housemaid was a bit confusing to say the lest, I regarded her one of those fading actresses who conveniently resorted to nude scenes to boost her career. She won me over in the sleeper My Dear Enemy, however. Compared to her many colleagues with immaculate skin and an attractive defined face, she seems 'plain' as a leading lady yet strong enough to carry a film through to success.
It was however her earlier work, The Harmonium in My Memory (1999) that opened my eye to her versatile talents. Here, she was a shy yet headstrong overage village girl who fell for a young trainee teacher from Seoul, and would do anything to turn his head and win his affection. With hindsight, her range and composure reminds me of Isabelle Huppert who is never shy of taking a complicated or even despicable role.
It was not just her natural performance that made this film such a warm and enjoyable experience. Lee Byung-hun, one of the most versatile Korean actors, was in a role similar to his later ones in Once in a Summer (a university student in a remote village), and Bunjee Jumping of Their Own (a school teacher who discovers his hidden self through a student). His underrated performance was just right for the film.
It was however her earlier work, The Harmonium in My Memory (1999) that opened my eye to her versatile talents. Here, she was a shy yet headstrong overage village girl who fell for a young trainee teacher from Seoul, and would do anything to turn his head and win his affection. With hindsight, her range and composure reminds me of Isabelle Huppert who is never shy of taking a complicated or even despicable role.
It was not just her natural performance that made this film such a warm and enjoyable experience. Lee Byung-hun, one of the most versatile Korean actors, was in a role similar to his later ones in Once in a Summer (a university student in a remote village), and Bunjee Jumping of Their Own (a school teacher who discovers his hidden self through a student). His underrated performance was just right for the film.
September 07, 2011
If you die before me, I will kill you
This is possibly the best quote from the Korean film More than Blue.
The story is related twice - first from the eyes of the dying, and apparently lovelorn K, then that of blissfully 'innocent' Cream. While the structure might have taken inspiration from the 2002 French film He Loves Me, He Loves Me not, it feels refreshing and gripping as it is in the latter part we realise how little both K and we know about Cream, who otherwise might have appeared heartlessly indifferent to K's care, affection and love. The scene following her accidental discovery of K's fatal illness is most heartbreaking: there she is standing on her own in a cold day - with the background dissolving to darkness, and in her front, a car is driving away with K looking back with her deceased mother and sister.
More than Blue provides ample room for Kwon Sang-woo to showcase his versatility as an actor in this considerate and gentle character K. His confident performance has certainly added emotional depth to the sad romance between two orphans.
The story is related twice - first from the eyes of the dying, and apparently lovelorn K, then that of blissfully 'innocent' Cream. While the structure might have taken inspiration from the 2002 French film He Loves Me, He Loves Me not, it feels refreshing and gripping as it is in the latter part we realise how little both K and we know about Cream, who otherwise might have appeared heartlessly indifferent to K's care, affection and love. The scene following her accidental discovery of K's fatal illness is most heartbreaking: there she is standing on her own in a cold day - with the background dissolving to darkness, and in her front, a car is driving away with K looking back with her deceased mother and sister.
More than Blue provides ample room for Kwon Sang-woo to showcase his versatility as an actor in this considerate and gentle character K. His confident performance has certainly added emotional depth to the sad romance between two orphans.
September 06, 2011
She is on duty
Watched She is on Duty last night starring two of my favourite Korean actors, Kim Sun-ah and Gong Yoo, and was saddened by how an underdeveloped script could 'bury' one's acting talents.
Made in the same year that would shoot her to international stardom by television drama My Lovely Sam-soon, the film invited comparison to Kim's performance between the two. Although different in profession, the two roles were similar in characters; brash and determined to get their ways. However while she was pulling off one after another comic moments in the drama, she seemed half-hearted in her performance in the film, albeit with identical body languages. It was a crying shame to see an actress with such immaculate comic timing was acting like a dummy in the film.
Gong Yoo, who had mesmerising chemistry with his leading lady Yoon Eun-hye in Coffee Prince, also seemed a bit absent-minded and at times appeared to be waiting for the cue to start acting.
It is a bigger surprise to learn that I had never taken note of his role in My Tutor Friend, which I enjoyed a lot, especially the first half. There he is simply overshadowed by the unbeatable and quirky leading couple played brilliantly by Kwon Sang-woo and Kim Ha-neul.
Made in the same year that would shoot her to international stardom by television drama My Lovely Sam-soon, the film invited comparison to Kim's performance between the two. Although different in profession, the two roles were similar in characters; brash and determined to get their ways. However while she was pulling off one after another comic moments in the drama, she seemed half-hearted in her performance in the film, albeit with identical body languages. It was a crying shame to see an actress with such immaculate comic timing was acting like a dummy in the film.
Gong Yoo, who had mesmerising chemistry with his leading lady Yoon Eun-hye in Coffee Prince, also seemed a bit absent-minded and at times appeared to be waiting for the cue to start acting.
It is a bigger surprise to learn that I had never taken note of his role in My Tutor Friend, which I enjoyed a lot, especially the first half. There he is simply overshadowed by the unbeatable and quirky leading couple played brilliantly by Kwon Sang-woo and Kim Ha-neul.
August 27, 2011
Christmas in August
I have just finished watching Christmas in August, a film that seems to belong to a most favoured genre in Korea: romance as lived in the mundane everyday life, narrated in a prose like style. Nothing catchy but the detailed delineation of those vivid in memories.
Contrast to its glossy television romance genre, the film one tends to feature a realistic look from settings to lighting, from the costume design to make-up etc. Though by and large employing the same pool of actors, they look more like your next door neighbours when they act on films.
But what really set this genre apart from their popular Hollywood counterparts is its narrative style; no conflict, no cinematic sensation, no particular camera movements that keep your head spinning.
It could feel like sipping a pot of lukewarm bland tea. For those who like the smell of it though, they would find residue of faint fragrance on their teeth for a few weeks to come.
Other works of such genre I have recently watched include:
A fine spring day (with sensual scenes especially when the protagonists are recording the sound of nature both in the bamboo forest and by the sea)
Once in a summer
Who are you?
Happiness
The bungee jumping of their own
April snow
Wanee and Junah
3-iron (an enigma with no dialogues between the two protagonists)
Not romance but in a similar narrative style:
My dear enemy
The way home
This charming lady
I am surprised by such a long list of films that resort mainly to the strength of the script and performance of the actors. It is a tell-tale sign that there is a critical mass of confident production team and performers who know their crafts well.
Contrast to its glossy television romance genre, the film one tends to feature a realistic look from settings to lighting, from the costume design to make-up etc. Though by and large employing the same pool of actors, they look more like your next door neighbours when they act on films.
But what really set this genre apart from their popular Hollywood counterparts is its narrative style; no conflict, no cinematic sensation, no particular camera movements that keep your head spinning.
It could feel like sipping a pot of lukewarm bland tea. For those who like the smell of it though, they would find residue of faint fragrance on their teeth for a few weeks to come.
Other works of such genre I have recently watched include:
A fine spring day (with sensual scenes especially when the protagonists are recording the sound of nature both in the bamboo forest and by the sea)
Once in a summer
Who are you?
Happiness
The bungee jumping of their own
April snow
Wanee and Junah
3-iron (an enigma with no dialogues between the two protagonists)
Not romance but in a similar narrative style:
My dear enemy
The way home
This charming lady
I am surprised by such a long list of films that resort mainly to the strength of the script and performance of the actors. It is a tell-tale sign that there is a critical mass of confident production team and performers who know their crafts well.
June 26, 2011
3-iron / Bunjee jumping of their own
After watching nearly a dozen of Korean dramas, I got the impression that they are highly polished, commercialised, and cater predominantly to family audience with conservative values. In comparison, the Korean films I have watched so far, such as Shiri, 200 Pounds Beauty, Memories of Murder, Sad Movies, A Brand New Life, My Sassy Girl, The Servant, Wedding Dress and Once in a Summer, do not only have a more 'realistic' look but also far more diverse in terms of subject matters and styles. Overall though, they are commercially driven. It therefore comes as a surprise when I came across films like 3-iron and Bunjee Jumping of Their Own that are experimental, ambiguous and unconventional.
Noted for the complete lack of any verbal (or written for that matter) communications between its two protagonists, 3-iron hinders our understanding on why they act in the way they do: for example, why the smart college graduate in his twenties chooses to while away his life in such an unconventional manner; why he takes the risk of being imprisoned while he can free himself by revealing the simple truth to the police; why he chooses being beaten while it is such an easier option just to play by the rule in prison; and who is he trying to impress by adhering to his noncooperative prociple? The film ends with him living 'happily' as a ghost with his lover in her house shared with her husband. From their silent smiles, it appears that they enjoy the game they are playing but as an audience, it remains a myth as to why they refuse to follow conventions and give up the apparent freedom that is open to them? Is it so important to act on one's will and impulse to the extend of marginalising oneself? Is there something we do not know as an outsider of Korean society and its value in order to understand them?
In a society that is still deep rooted in its traditional family values (that is, based on what the popular Korean dramas have informed us), Bunjee Jumping of Their Own is singing a rather disconcerted tone. Although the 'gay' teacher is ousted by the principal, he is seen to be reunited with the reincarnation of the love of his life in a seventeen year old boy. Despite little indication of the exact nature of their relationship, it is clear that the ambiguity itself is bad enough and will never be tolerated in the mainstream culture. It is not clear if they have ended their lives together following the act of bunjee jumping far away from their homeland.
These two films, together with A Brand New Life, suggest to a new audience that there is much to be expected from contemporary Korean cinema.
Noted for the complete lack of any verbal (or written for that matter) communications between its two protagonists, 3-iron hinders our understanding on why they act in the way they do: for example, why the smart college graduate in his twenties chooses to while away his life in such an unconventional manner; why he takes the risk of being imprisoned while he can free himself by revealing the simple truth to the police; why he chooses being beaten while it is such an easier option just to play by the rule in prison; and who is he trying to impress by adhering to his noncooperative prociple? The film ends with him living 'happily' as a ghost with his lover in her house shared with her husband. From their silent smiles, it appears that they enjoy the game they are playing but as an audience, it remains a myth as to why they refuse to follow conventions and give up the apparent freedom that is open to them? Is it so important to act on one's will and impulse to the extend of marginalising oneself? Is there something we do not know as an outsider of Korean society and its value in order to understand them?
In a society that is still deep rooted in its traditional family values (that is, based on what the popular Korean dramas have informed us), Bunjee Jumping of Their Own is singing a rather disconcerted tone. Although the 'gay' teacher is ousted by the principal, he is seen to be reunited with the reincarnation of the love of his life in a seventeen year old boy. Despite little indication of the exact nature of their relationship, it is clear that the ambiguity itself is bad enough and will never be tolerated in the mainstream culture. It is not clear if they have ended their lives together following the act of bunjee jumping far away from their homeland.
These two films, together with A Brand New Life, suggest to a new audience that there is much to be expected from contemporary Korean cinema.
June 20, 2011
Once in a summer
Students' movement, political trauma, the intellectual youth visiting the rural areas, two young people from entirely different backgrounds/camps meet in a circumstance of instability, fall in love and are caught up in a social upheaval in an historical moment. The further into the film, the more it feels like a Chinese one that depicts the confusion, joys, suffering and pain of the youth who were sent down to the countryside during the Cultural Revolution. History can teach us nothing.
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