Showing posts with label mine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mine. Show all posts

Monday, November 25, 2013

Jeon Wu Chi---East Asian superhero

Unlike the other blockbusters we have watched in this semester, Jeon Woo Chi: The Taoist Wizard based its story on traditional folktale and departs from the theme of reunification. It's generally a fun movie to watch, the trio Taoist Wizards and Woo Chi's dog-turned-man sidekick use exaggerated facial expression and ridiculous acts for comic effect. However I found it hard to keep track of the plot in the first 45 minutes, the setting is chaotic and the conversations happen way too fast to follow. Most of the time I was just staring at the subtitles and tried to figure out what's going on. I was a little bit overwhelmed and completely zoomed out during the the part when Woo Chi was framed by the three Taoist gods into the scroll. But luckily, I was able to make it through the rest of film regardlessly. Perhaps, it's due to the simple story and conventional settings of the characters. Especially the character Woo Chi, reminds me a lot of the protagonist Sun Wukong from Journey to the West, one of the Four Great Classical Novels in Chinese literature. Sun Wukong is a monkey who acquires supernatural power through Taoist practices, and he also has a master who he protects in their way to pilgrimage. He has plenty of strength, like transforming into different animals and people, using his hair to make colones of himself, and his weapon is a golden cudgel that can change its seize just like the one Woo Chi has. For me, Woo Chi brings nostalgia and makes me feel like he is actually the Sun Wukong, who is just transformed into a South Korean Taoist magician. What I found interesting is the fact that the goblins are actually not that bad, they do not tend to destroy the city and the motivation of their evil deeds are not fully explained in the story. They're just bad villans. And they're portrayed as half human half animal, which also shares similarity with the Chinese fictionized novel I talked about earlier. However, the three gods are extremely stupid and useless, they are the one who messed up everything. The protagonist Woo-chi is rather a anti-superhero since what he really cares is building his own fame and flirting with the beautiful widow. Another thing to mention, this film was released in 2009 Christmas after Avatar. Although it was categorized as a blockbuster in South Korea, it only accounted for one-fifth of the budget of Avatar. Nevertheless, Woo Chi did not lose the battle with Avatar. So what drew Korean audience to the cinema? I think in this movie, the casts really do a good job in making their rather simple characters fun and dynamics. I am so used to Kang Dong-won being melancholy,so it's nice to see him goofying around.

Monday, November 18, 2013

Memories and history

When I watched the movie, I just couldn’t help relating it to Peppermint Candy. Perhaps, it’s detective Jo’s violent act reminds me of Yongho’s transmission from an innocent youth to a mentally ill suicidal person. Similarly, these two movies both play with time and show how people have changed within the time. In Peppermint Candy, the individual events Yongho has been through can be seen as the historical events that happened in South Korea society. Thus, audiences relate their own experiences with Yongho’s life trajectory and revisit South Korean contemporary history through flashbacks. While in the Memories of Murder, people identify themselves not with any particular characters, but with the overall social context that the story structures upon. The shanty houses, the ongoing safety drills, the unease student demonstrations, the disguise of authoritarians, the blue or black uniforms, the night shift, and so on. The setting recalls the collective national memory of the 1980s, a period when people were asked by the government to sacrifice their own individual interest for the sake of fast growth national economy. However the economic miracle did not necessarily benefit the people. In the scene when detective Jo enters the house of second suspect to collect evident, the camera first captures the family pictures and then it’s followed by a cut to a shot from high angle showing the internal decoration of the house. The coughing wife lies on the bed, and her two children play on the same bed regardless the fact that she needs rest. This portrait of the dysfunctional family might remind many audiences of their childhood. According to Chang, she pinpoints the causality of these hazardous consequences is the compressed modernity which has made the drastic economic growth in South Korea. If the process of modernization is supposed to bring revolutionary transition to every aspects of the society, how can this strategy of labor-exploitation be legitimized in a democratic country like South Korea? It reminds me of one of the Chinese policies that was prevalence in the 1980s, it provokes the inner regions to support the coastal regions to let them get rich first, and the inner regions will be brought along and through this process which will ultimately result in the common prosperity of the entire population. The similarity of these two policies exists in the exclusion of a group of people in the distribution of economic achievement. Overall, it’s an awesome movie since it not only does a good job in conveying a mysterious and breathtaking story, but also empowers its setting to tell history.

Monday, November 11, 2013

My Sassy Girl


Although My Sassy Girl was one step behind Friend as the second highest film in 2001, it had a mega impact in the entire Asian region. When I googled My Sassy Girl, there were Korean drama, Japanese drama, and Chinese drama, as well as Chinese remake film and even American remake and Hollywood remake film.
Doobo said it was not until 2006 Korean cultural productions have become consumed by audiences in Asian. I thought that it was way much earlier, because personally I started watching K-drama in 2000, and my friends were also big-fans of it. Maybe it was just the case in China, but I clearly remember how much impacts it has continually exerted on Chinese teenager and adolescents. For instance, a lot of shops would change their name into something that has relation to Korea in order to appeal people to go in, and the clothing companies would add Korean subtitle to their labels to make their brands look like they’re imported from Korea. One of a sudden, you hear Korean songs all over the place, you see Koran stars on the news and papers, and the primetime shows were dominated by K-drama. Even older generations like my mom enjoyed watching it. We just felt like Korean people were at the edge of fashion, their culture was so modern and different from ours. As I grew a little bit older, I started to notice the negative comments on this cultural import. Some people describes it as cultural imperialism, they argue that it’s a strategy to infuse Korean culture and values into young Chinese psyches, which is extremely dangerous since our own culture will probably be neglected and ignored during this process. I don’t necessarily agree with this statement, but it actually gets me to think about the importance of these cultural products as profound mediums in socialization. Nowadays, the transnational mode becomes more and more prevalence; therefore it’s no longer Korean authentic but fused with local Chineseness. It’s usually a Chinese character pairing up with a Korean character, and the director is usually come from Korea while the filming takes place in China. However this kind of integration is only a way path since these films or dramas would probably have big successes in China but could hardly make to Korea.
As we know the globalization is inevitable, and the distinct cultural boundary keeps breaking down. How can one culture survive in this merging environment becomes a crucial question for identity. 

Monday, November 4, 2013

Thoughts on Our School


Although I am neither a Korean nor Japanese, this film reminds me a lot of the memory from primary, middle and high school while I was in China. Perhaps East Asian countries share similarities in their education systems, I feel really connected and associated with the first half of the movie which is mainly about the school routine, singing contest and dormitory life that many people might get bored with. Different from Western schools, in the school we always have classmates who we grow up along with in the same classroom or even in the same dorm. Therefore we identify not only with the school as a whole, but also with a smaller unit as a class. The school events are supposed to bring class spirit to everybody and help them to formulate their collective interests although it might contradict with the individual ones. When other students are busy organizing their graduation trip to North Korea, Numsoon and Guiyong are muted and look disappointed since they have to stay and practice weight lifting. (I always wonder why East Asian people are so good at weight lifting. For example China; and a female weightlifter just got the first gold medal for North Korea recently. But I feel like practicing weight lifting is not initiated by the individual in most of the cases, and that’s why Western people are not big fans of it whereas countries like China and North Korea are able to produce athletes within their institutionalized sport systems)
Despite the specific nostalgia aspect of my take on this documentary movie, I also feel puzzled and unresolved about its discussion of Korean national identity. Teachers are trying so hard to preserve and install the Korean cultural identity into the minds of new generation, which not necessarily belongs to the Communist North or Democratic South. The sense of belonging is subjected, but is mediated through the objective reality where the feeling emerges from. It’s no doubt that the graduation trip cascades the imagination with the reality, yet going back again seems to be an impossibility according the escalated tension between North Korean and Japan. Hence, will these students continue feeling attached to their fatherland or this feeling will be slowly worn away after their graduation from Korean school? The beginning of the movie has a short introduction on the history of Korean school in Japan. “After the liberation of Korea from Japan colonial rule, the first thing Korean immigrants in Japan did was to build “school”, so when their children went back to Korea, they would not face difficulties.” What does it mean by going back? Do the Korean immigrants just want to go back and visit or actually migrate back to Korea? During the BBQ scene, an older female says that she would like to go visit her homeland South Korea as well as her fatherland North Korea. Maybe it’s due to the translation, but I don’t really understand the differences between homeland and fatherland.

Monday, October 28, 2013

Woman's Monstrosity??


In Kim's artile, he talks about how "woman's monstrosity" remedies the failure musclinity. In the case of Shiri, a so called men’s film, there are only three female figures contribute to the narratives, one is the ignorant official and another one is the real Hyun who is kept in the hospital for chemo therapy. Then the only one that can be qualified to this “monstrous” feature, it’s the Northern sleeper agent Hee who later impersonates as Hyun to continue her secret reunification mission by being with Ryu. Her monstrousness is illustrated in terms of the brutal military training she has been through in North Korea, the bloody assassinations of important political figures she has conducted throughout the years and the skillful rifle shooting technique that enables her to be the only sniper in the assassination project of South Korea’s president. However, her weaknesses and vulnerability are as obvious as her monstrousness. According to the memory the real Hyun recalls in the ending scene, Hee is so vigilant and insecure that she would be found under the bed everyday morning. Fish is another signifier of Hee’s inability to master her emotion since she transmits her personal interest into Hyun’s characteristics. I have to say the voice message she leaves for Ryu is very touching, which strengthens the dramatic aspect of the film as well as the articulation of the tragic ending. Although the film mainly focuses on male’s struggle in terms of morality, patriotism, friendship and romance, the thematic importance is actually manifested through the female character Hee. As an individual strives to live up to the specific historical moment, she left with no choice but turning her gun towards the president and being shot by her beloved. Since Hee has failed to kill Ryu for two times, I wonder if Ryu has a moment of hesitation when he makes the decision of pulling the trigger. If the answer is negative (which is very sad), then we might able to make a clear distinction between males and females by their fundamental rationalism or sentimentalism. No matter how physically monstrous Hee is, she is emotionally frail. Because of that, she can’t master her feeling like Ryu, Park or even the “oddball”, which constrains her only to the subplot and tragic element of this so-called men’s film.
(By the way, I find that the sound track is very disturbing since I can always tell what's gonna happen based on it. And it always appears before the actual scenes, which drains off the fun of watching)

Monday, October 21, 2013

A men's film


If melodrama is considered as women's film, gangster will absolutely be considered as men's film.  I don’t want to stereotype the diversified spectatorship, but it seems like male and female have the most different takes on these two genres. Personally, after watching this film, the first thought came into my mind is the question whether Joonsuk actually gives order to kill Dongsu. If the answer is positive, I would automatically assume that their friendship is a total lie. And the repetitive phrase of “nothing to be sorry about between friends” becomes an excuse and a way to legitimize Joonsuk’s betrayal. Yet, my male friend who watched this movie before insists that the death of Dongsu and the confession of Joonsuk in the court are actually the distillation of brotherhood. It confuses me because I don’t think a real friend should ever “stab” me on the back, while it seems very acceptable for my male friend in certain conditions (this film is one of his favorite, maybe that’s why he so buys into this “idealized” brotherhood).














According to Gangster Cinema, Hong Kong and Korean gangster heroes are restrained in the Confucian virtues such as righteousness, loyalty, and filial piety, which is in contrast to Hollywood’s classical gangster heroes who are infused with personal heroism. Therefore, Hong Kong and Korean Gangster films are more likely to depict tragic heroes, and regression backward to those traditional values. In Friend, Joonsuk and Dongsu’s friendship are restrained by their opposite gang memberships. In a gangster world (from my personal understanding), loyalty is the supreme rule above all. Hence, Jonnsuk’s act is perfectly understandable and respected in a gangster world. Despite the fact that, Dongsu, the one who is the most sensitive, pride, determined and seems to connect the least to his childhood buddies, dies from his abnormal decision of going to see Songtaek off, who used to be his rival in love in the case of Jimsook or perhaps Joonsuk.The deviation of Dongsu’s act from his characteristic traits ultimately violates the rule of the gangster world, and Dongsu dies with no regret since he knows that’s the rule of the game since the very beginning.
Despite the fact that I'm pretty upset with Dongsu's death, the ending scene of Joonsuk walking towards the light does neutralize the overall gloomy tone. And it's interesting to see how the director plays irony on the cop by hiding his face under the shades.


(P.S the first K-drama I have ever watched is Jang Donggun's All About Eve )

Monday, October 14, 2013

A Sad Story......


There is an idiom in Chinese saying that it is the trend of events brings forth the hero. However what always be forgotten is the fact the number of hero is small while the majority normal people’s lives are also changed dramatically due to this inevitable social force, and mostly do not end up with positive effects. Peppermint Candy created a bond between social memory and individual memory, vividly depict the scar of historical catastrophe. Watching this film is like peeling a bamboo shoot. The outer layer is so firm and tough, but the inner part is so soft and tender. Yet, the memory can be revisited, the actual life cannot.

Particularly, I noticed that the director employed a very subtle close-up to manifest Yongho's expressions. It’s so slow and sophisticated that the progress of zooming-in is almost undetectable. One example is when Yongho was left out on the field because of his wounded foot. He was afraid to death and had tears in his eyes. The camera started zooming when Yongho noticed that there was a girl hiding in the shades, and the camera stopped as Yongho lifted up his gun. This subtle camera movement perfectly reflects Yongho’s complex emotions of scare, hesitation, and helplessness. What I really like about this shot is its easeful representation of intensity. Ultimately, by using this kind of filming technique, the film convoys the idea of how small changes can accumulate and alternate one’s fate into a total opposite direction. Another example would be the ending scene, when Yongho sat on the bank of the river and then slowly lay on the rocks. The sound of the coming train overcame the joyful song sung by the students as the camera ceased. This take reveals all the minor expressions Yongho had on his face, including the slightly shaky eyebrows and the brimming tears.

With such an emotional ending, Peppermint Candy leaves me a big question about myself. Am I still the one who I think I was?


Monday, October 7, 2013

on the road

The tone of the film is so light that it does not seem to intentionally engage audiences into the narrative in the first place. And it’s a rather simple melodramatic story without plot twist or any sort of surprising moments.

However the aesthetic use of long take in this film is tremendous and unforgettable, which is always associated with the traveling sequences. To me, it’s the power of travelling, the feeling of feet stepping on the land—a land called “Korea”, that perfectly captures director’s perception of Korea and Korean cinema. The ending scene is not an exception, in which Songwa is guided by a girl walking through seasons over places. Since Songhwa has never married, whether or not this girl is her daughter remains a mystery. Perhaps she is adopted by Songhwa just like how Songhwa was adopted by Yudong because of her talent. Therefore, the spirit of Pansori is perpetuated through their endless walking. The walking itself is a process of accumulating grief, and Songhwa devotes the rest of her life to embrace and experience the grief on the road. There are different people in the world, and I do believe that Yudong and Songhwa are the few who bear different burdens other than simply making living or satisfying personal desires. Hence I don’t really buy into Choi’s reading of Songhwa as Yudong’s mistress, and the interpretation of restoration of masculinity as the main theme of this film. On the contrary, I see this film portrays the nation in a more feminized way, especially through the shooting of serenely landscape. The emphasis on landscape portrayal echoes with the motherland metaphor. Thus, Songhwa, the cultural icon, merges into the virgin land she has been travel around and become part of it as well as the representation of Korea.

Moreover, in terms of “Koreanness”, Sopyonje presents another kind of nationalism in addition to drawing on the traditional Korean art. Director Im executes this film in a unique poetic way, which resonate oriental philosophy that is not transformable in western culture. The long take, the pure capture of landscape, the showing of people’s backs and the oddly mute of diegetic music at the climax are sophisticated done by Im to denote a sense of exotic “Koreanness” that is distinct from narrative-driven classical conventions. The “Han” is connoted through the images and music, marries with the narrative to create a consistent poetic tone. By doing that, audience are not only visually watching the film, they are also hearing the music and emotionally reading the “poem”. Ultimately, I as an audience forget about the thirst of conclusion and start to appreciate the “blank-leaving” and ambiguity that cultivate various interpretations of this indigenous Korean musical storytelling. And Director Im really points out an alternative road for me to make sense of Korean cinema, not only focusing on the subject matter but also the way how is being presented.

Monday, September 30, 2013

The Inconsistent Consistency

For me, it’s a new kind of watching experience. The movie is inconsistent in a sense that the second half deviates a lot from the melodramatic representation of characters and comic plots in an upbeat mood of the first half. The massive information that flows through the second half is not something I prepare or expect for. It takes me a while to realize that the scene of Chilsu sitting in the police car and staring at Gina through the widow is actually the ending of this movie. Normally, after watching a movie I am able to generate some thoughts immediately. But the inconsistency in this movie is so predominant that I couldn’t come up with any. I’m confused not by the plots, but the way how story is being told and the underlying meaning of the images, scripts and context that I simply miss while I am giggling during the first half of the movie.

The story is also a double-protagonist structure, in which the two protagonists undergo similar life experience: dysfunctional family, unstable billboard painting jobs and disability to change their social statuses. For me, acknowledging the situations of Mansu’s and Chilsu’s father is like opening a Pandora Box. From the reading, I realized that Mansu’s father is put in jail due to his sympathy of communists, which explains why Mansu get called out by the government officer and denied to work aboard. And the place where Chilsu’s family lives used to be controlled by the American soldiers during the intervention period. These two fathers seem to be the stem of all the obstacles which Mansu and Chilsu encounter. Although the Korean society is under a democratization progress, in reality the lower class people are still limited by their ascribed characteristics (minjung connection) no matter how talented they are. Standing on top of the billboard is by no mean to get attention. Mansu and Chilsu are just seeking for a place that is big enough for them to set feet in, free enough to speak out their frustration and open enough to accept them as normal. The aftermath of their brief freedom is an ironic tragedy, in which Mansu jumped off the rooftop and Chilsu get caught by the police due to their non-political-motivated political demonstration. It is the only time the society cares about what they do and what they say despite the fact that their message is mistaken the whole time.

Although the contents are different from time to time, Chilsu and Mansu echoes the same calling for social changes with A Single Spark. Director Park Kwangsu is consistent in filming his movies with deep concern of political situations……

Monday, September 23, 2013

Close Analysis of the Camera Use in A Single Spark


For me, the movie is very touching in multiple layers. Not only from the beautiful ending scene of Jeon Tare-Il sacrificing himself for the sake of mobilizing the unconscious Young workers, but also from the afterward thoughts about the fortune granted to me for living upon the liberal and democratic achievements which derived from the bloody revolutions in early generationsAnd I think the use of camera plays an essential role in conveying story and meanings through creating very power images.
There is one thing continually strikes me throughout the movie, that is the way how the director uses his camera to constitute meanings by focusing on objects. While in Madame Freedom, so as the other classical cinema, the use of close-up for major or minor facial expression is employed intensively to depict the inner emotion of the characters. By doing that, we, as spectators, create a direct contact with the characters; therefore we receive an immediate message which helps to generate a similar emotion with the characters or an emotion which the director intends to have us experience. Quite differently, in A Single Spark, there are much less close depictions of faces. Instead, the close-up technique is used frequently in shooting books (Labor Law and Yongsu’s biography of Tae-Il), lighter (Cue to connect the opening and ending scences), fire (symbolizes the fate of Tae-Il and the inevitable labor movement). This aesthetic choice the director makes really gives me a different spectacle experience. When I see these objects, I am puzzled in the first place, and then start to think about the purpose of emphasizing them. It is not until the moment when I finally relate them with the characters and plots, I am granted the access to the underlying meaning as well as the emotion. Due to this indirect way of conveying emotions, I find myself become more actively involved in this “imaged world”. It is the objective approach that triggers me to be subjective.
Besides, I notice the composition of the image is very sophisticated in a way that it deviates from classical convention of telling a story in a naturalistic and approachable way to a more “distracting”, “unexpected”, and “innovated “way. There is a scene in which Yongsu is running and concealing himself from being caught by the police. While Yongsu occupies the left half of the frame with a focus on his upper body, a police jeep which is situated couple hundred meters away from Yongsu juxtaposes on the right. Hence, we are able to see both Yongsu fleeing from the police and his girlfriend Jung-soon being caught by the police on the same image, the same frame at the same time. By doing that, spectators are given double tasks to keep up with the rhythm of the film. However, I find this aggressive representation functions very well in this movie, which creates a sense of intensiveness and breathlessness that duplicates the reality and drags me into it.

Monday, September 16, 2013

What is the Sake Behind Madame Freedom?



Compared to the “Stray Bullet”, this film is much more watchable, entertaining and understandable. No wonder it was a big box hit back in 1956. According to Isolde’sarticle, Korea film industry went through a short boomduring the 50’s and the beginning of 1960. The underlying motivations of such development owed to the rapid modernization and the increasing demand of entertainment from the massive citizens who encountered western culture and admired it. Although there were waves of women going into work force, I supposed that it was still a men-dominated society during that period.What is very interesting about this film is the fact that it is about women, as well as their attempts to escape from the private sphere to the public and actively strive for “freedom”. What are the reasons of its success in the 50’s and the massive influences that has lasted throughout Korean film history? What would the audience distribution of this woman film be like in the 50’s? Did the film only cater to female spectators? If not, how did the male spectators feel about this film?


image.jpegThe prevalence western culture in the public life was in contrast with the traditional Confucian conventions in the private life. The film started with Ms. Oh wearing traditional Korean clothing and humbly taking care of the lives of her family. The long shot of her walking alongside with Chunho from her house towards outside signified the transition of private life to public life. Yet the process was rather gradual and indicated by the clothes she wore in the boutique shop as well as her attitudes towards alcohol, dancing and having affairs. Surprisingly, after the completed transformation from a virtuous housewife to “Madame Freedom”, Ms. Oh ended up wearing a traditional Korean gown to the party. Why did she choose to wear Hanbok? Would it be more appropriate to wear a western
gown in the dancing hall? Moreover, if clothing was a metaphor of her changing social identities, the Hanbok she wore created ambiguity of her new identity. Perhaps, this was her intend to manage a duel-identity that would allow her to freely participate        in both private and public lives.

 image.jpeg

The film ended with Ms. Oh regretting her faults while Prof. Jang leaning on the door which he initially shut on Ms. Oh’s face. It was the restoration of the traditional patriarchal structure. Unlike Mr. Baek who was put in jail due to speculation, and Mr. Han who was caught adultery in act by her wife, Prof. Jang was the only one who stepped back and avoided the overwhelming lure from the flux of western cultures and values. Thus he was depicted as the guard for pre-existing moral standards. But, what did this narrative try to convey regarding that it's a commercial film which was made upon the social phenomenon of women’s advancement in public sphere? Did it try to elevate this movement or the other way around?

Monday, September 9, 2013

Thoughts on the Stray Bullet



To be honest, after having watched the first twenty minutes of the film, I was still confused and couldn’t make a sense of what the film was trying to tell us. At the very beginning, I mistook Kyongsik, the poor veteran who lost his leg in the War, as the protagonist and thought that the plots would develop around his relationship with his ex-fiancée Myongsuk. And the film title “Stray Bullet” can somehow be related to his war experience and lost love. Borne onupon this sort of romantic Korean Drama mindset, I was surprised by the unexpected developing plots and started to realize that In order to get access to the leitmotif, I must adapt to a broader perspective that takes historical, political and psychosocial aspects into account altogether.
The scene of Cheolho walking back home slowly with one hand supporting his aching teeth was brilliant in a way that it was non-verbal, but offer an articulate social background of the film. Cheolho was rendered in long-shot with depth of view, which depicted the crudeness and dirtiness of the neighborhood he and his troublesome family had lived in. The shantytown was named of “Liberation”, which gave a hint of the refugee status of these people. Therefore, it was understandable why this movie was initially banned when it first came out. Not only because its touch on sensitive North Korea issue, but also the fact the depiction of the livelihoods of these “liberated” people reflected the hopeless reality and future of South Korea, which the authorities had figured out but refused to face.
The dysfunctional society was well depicted in the following plots through the post-war unemployment, military prostitute, bank robbing and so on.  What really interested me a lot was the constant use of English phrases throughout the film. I’m not sure if this was culturally a fashion back in the 60’s, or this was director’s personal preference to imitate western style, or this was meant to be ironic in a sense that those phrases were spoken by the people who were indeed controlled and exploited by the Americans without consciousness. Adding on that, the chasing scene and shoot-out scenario reminded me a lot of Hollywood action movie, and it was quite interesting to see how Korean director intended to comprise Hollywood elements in a national film. Would it be a necessity for the development of national cinema in the heating competition with the flourish Hollywood films? Besides, It was also worthy to discuss the purposes of adding such scenes. To me, the motion-driven plot distracted me from viewing this film as purely a drama, and made me felt that it can also be categorized under action genre.


Jingwen Zhao