Our friends at the Korean Film Festival in Australia have announced that they will be back in the house for 2021! Bringing the very best of Korean cinema to Australian audiences, the 12th edition of KOFFIA returns to Canberra (2-6 September), Brisbane (16-19 September), Melbourne (16-23 September ) and Sydney (14-23 October) this year.
This is excellent news for a country that’s half in lockdown at the moment. A shining light at the end of a wintry tunnel as it were. Indeed, last year’s KOFFIA was offered free an online as a result of the pandemic, while this year aims to be a physical festival.
No films have been announced as yet, although KOFFIA plans to release the full program on 5 August.
“2021 marks the incredible 60th anniversary of diplomatic relations between South Korea and Australia” said Jihee Kim, Director of the Korean Cultural Centre. “The Korean Film Festival aims to introduce Korea and its culture through films while also encouraging talent exchange between the film industries of the two countries. To celebrate this milestone, our Festival program will feature some incredible films that highlight the wonder of Korean culture through cinema.”
2021 KOFFIA screening dates and locations:
Canberra: September 2 – 6 | Palace Electric Cinema
Brisbane: September 16 – 19 | Elizabeth Picture Theatre
Melbourne: September 16 – 23 | ACMI
Sydney: October 14 – 23 | Event Cinema George St
The Reel Bits has long been a supporter of KOFFIA, having previously served as a media partner. We will continue to cover the festival as part of our Asia in Focus stream this year.
Asian cinema has seen a great deal of success in fusing spiritual concepts with genre filmmaking. Any horror fan could probably tell you this, and the South Korean box office has been no exception. From the blockbuster success of the Along with the Gods series to the strong audience response to Svaha: The Sixth Finger (2019), it’s something director Kim Tae-hyoung clearly aimed to capitalise on in THE 8TH NIGHT (제8일의 밤).
The story begins with the ubiquitous animated opening explaining that over 2,500 years ago, two ancient tortured beings were trapped in caskets. In order to escape, they must inhabit seven human hosts. Trusted with protecting the caskets, monk Ha-jung (Lee Eol) sends young initiate Chang-seok (Nam Da-reum) in search of Seohwa (Lee Sung-min), a former ally believed by Ha-jung to be humanity’s chance against the evil.
The ancient battle breaks forth onto modern Korea when Chang-seok arrives in the city in search of Seohwa. Chang-seok is goggle-eyed at seeing the sights and sounds of the big smoke for the first time, and his vow of silence is frequently tested (and broken) when the plot requires it. There’s also the obligatory detective Kim Ho-tae (Park Hae-joon) hot on Seohwa’s case, believing that he has something to do with the grisly bodies turning up all over town.
In mystical horror thrillers, the necessary suspension of disbelief means that it’s all about the mood. We can totally buy a little girl emerging from a well, to use a classic example, if she is as creepy as all hell. So, it’s just that the mood here is a bit flat, languishing as it does in long stretches of mediocrity and exposition. So. Much. Exposition. Indeed, the film often spends time explaining things that happened only moments before.
Nam Da-reum, primarily known for his television work, makes for a capable co-lead on the cusp of solo success. Yet this is often a cat-and-mouse two-hander at times, with Lee Sung-min (The Man Standing Next) and Park Hae-joon (Believer) Female characters are basically sidelined, except for the one lady (Park Se-hyun) with really big crazy eyes — and a third one on her right cheek — who freaked me the hell out but also made me giggle in equal measure.
THE 8TH NIGHT had a lot of promise going in, but ultimately fails to tie all of its threads together in a satisfying manner. Rather than relying on the momentum of moment-to-moment scares, it falls back on some standard horror tropes and thin characters, leading up to a muddled ending and cranial sores from all the head-scratching.
2021 | South Korea | DIRECTOR: Kim Tae-hyung| WRITERS: Kim Tae-hyung | CAST: Lee Sung-min, Park Hae-joon, Kim Yoo-jung, Nam Da-reum | DISTRIBUTOR: Netflix (Global) | RUNNING TIME: 115 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 2 July 2021
Going all the way back to The Day the Pig Fell Into a Well, filmmaker Hong Sang-soo has been fascinated with the butterfly effects of human interaction. Through a career of over two dozen features, sometimes releasing as many as two to three titles a year, Hong has refined his snapshots to a series of recurring motifs, a deceptively carefree style, and a company of familiar actors.
With INTRODUCTION (Inteurodeoksyeon), Hong splits his narrative between his native South Korea and Berlin — which is incredibly apt given that it is debuting at the Berlinale this year. However, unlike Claire’s Camera, this does not make a European film festival its backdrop.
Following an establishing scene in a doctor’s (Kim Youngho) surgery, the basic setup sees fashion student Ju-won (Park Miso) arrive in Berlin to study, where she is hosted by an artist (Kim Minhee) who is friends with her mother (Seo Younghwa). Ju-won’s boyfriend Young-ho (Shin Seokho) barely waits a day before hopping on a plane to join her, much to the nonplussed confusion of Ju-won. The film then jumps to a few years later when Young-ho meets a famous actor (Gi Ju-bong) over drinks with his own mother (Cho Yun-hee).
Despite a tidy 66 minute runtime, making it even short than last year’s The Woman Who Ran, Hong’s series of encounters are unsurprisingly complex. As you can probably tell from the brief distillation above, the overlapping connections between these characters make up much of the content. We are introduced to Ju-won and her artist friend while standing outside smoking, talking about seemingly innocuous subjects of trees and the canal.
Indeed, it’s smoking, drinking, and food that once again serve as anchor points for these interactions. When we properly meet the old actor, at least following his brief appearance at the doctor’s office, he’s at a table swapping soju and beer with Young-ho’s mother. When the topic of love is raised, and the trade-off for career and relationships, he becomes agitated. “One person embracing another,” he yells. “Where’s the wrong in that?” Played once again by long-standing Hong proxy in Gi Ju-bong, we can imagine that this is the closest Hong comes to speaking directly to us.
Like A Hotel By the River, or any number of his films really, Hong spends his denouement referencing a hotel next to a large body of water. Indeed, this is where the film culminates, with two of the men in the cold on a black and white beach. We aren’t far from where we started, at least not in terms of major events, but Hong takes us a long way in this abbreviated space.
At a time when South Korean cinema is having a ‘moment’ thanks to the high-profile Parasitewin, critical staple Hong Sang-soo reminds of what he’s been reliably telling us for the last 25 years. Filled with a veritable who’s who of Korean stardom, this is the kind of film you show people to demonstrate what the rest of us have known all along. You might even say it’s an amazing introduction.
2021 | South Korea | DIRECTOR: Hong Sang-soo | WRITER: Hong Sang-soo | CAST: Shin Seokho, Park Miso, Kim Youngho, Ki Joobong, Seo Younghwa, Kim Minhee, Cho Yunhee, Ye Jiwon, Ha Seongguk| DISTRIBUTOR: Jeonwonsa(KOR), Finecut (Global),Berlinale 2021 | RUNNING TIME: 66 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 1-5 March 2021 (GER)
Space junk is a genuine problem. With humans shooting things and people into space since the 1950s, there’s an estimated 128 million pieces of manufactured space debris larger than 1 millimetre floating about in our orbit. It was the basis for the popular Japanese manga/anime Planetes, and a launching point for Jo Sung-hee’s (Phantom Detective) latest film.
SPACE SWEEPERS (승리호) takes place in 2092. Earth is no longer habitable, and the orbital utopia built by UTS corporation is only available to the elite. Other people try and eek out a living with what little they have, including the crew of the Victory, a space ship that collects junk for money.
When the ragtag group – who includes former space guards and special forces members Tae-ho (Song Joong-ki), Captain Jang (Kim Tae-ri), drug king Tiger Park (Jin Seon-kyu) and a robot named Bubs (Yoo Hae-jin) – encounter a small girl named ‘Dorothy’ (Park Ye-rin), their fortunes change. They have either set themselves up for the profit or fight of their life, especially when UTS head James Sullivan (Richard Armitage) gets involved.
Jo Sung-hee had reportedly been working on the film for 10 years in some form or another, constantly looking for ways to differentiate it from similar genre films. There are the Korean elements, of course, with characters sliding in and out of languages depending on the context. Yet there’s also the effort that Jo and his team have put into world building, crafting something that is unquestionably futuristic but also lived-in.
Adding to this greatly are the stunning special effects and production design. The visual effects company Dexter Studios, who brought Along with the Gods: The Two Worlds and Ashfallto the screen on a similarly larger-than-life canvas, have outdone themselves here. Massive scale docking stations, ships and eventually dogfights fill the screen in true blockbuster fashion. It’s kind of like Moebius designed a Marvel film and infused it with pure Hallyuwood enthusiasm.
Yet to mistake this for a ‘mere’ effects film is to do it a great disservice. This is a animated film that just happens to be live action. Like the finest sci-fi, it’s a character drama in space, and each of these people comes layered with backstory, their own motivations and actual growth by the end of the picture. It really helps that in contrast Richard Armitage is basically an anime villain, joining a long line of bearded gaijin (or waeguk-saram if you prefer).
The cast is excellent as you’d expect. Song Joong-ki rejoins Jo after their previous collaboration on A Werewolf Boy (2012). Kim Tae-ri, who impressed us in The Handmaiden and Little Forest, is at her kick-ass best here. The award-winning Yoo Hae-jin (A Taxi Driver) is unrecognisable as the voice of a CG robot, whose character arc sees them saving up money for a gender reassignment procedure.
In any other year, we may have seen this hit global cinemas in limited release. Thanks to the wonders of streaming, the audience reach has expanded for this crowd-pleaser exponentially. So, if 2020 was the year that Korean cinema got global attention, then SPACE SWEEPERS might signal the breadth of what the nation’s film offerings might be.
2021 | South Korea | DIRECTOR: Jo Sung-hee| WRITERS: Yoon Seung-min, Yoo-kang Seo-ae, Jo Sung-hee | CAST: Song Joong-ki, Kim Tae-ri, Jin Seon-kyu, Yoo Hae-jin, Richard Armitage | DISTRIBUTOR: Netflix (Global)| RUNNING TIME: 136 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 5 February 2021 (AUS)
If you haven’t been keeping up with the career of Cha In-Pyo, that’s kind of the point of his new Netflix original movie. The star of TV’s Perfect Love and The Gentlemen of Wolgyesu Tailor Shop is known as much for his acting as his Korean royalty status with actress wife Shin Ae-ra. His latest role ponders what happens when the calls stop coming.
In WHAT HAPPENED TO MR. CHA? (차인표), the titular actor is a good sport in playing a washed-up version of himself. When his fictional counterpart chooses to take a shower in a girl’s school gym, you can probably see exactly where this leads. That’s right: he gets stuck underground after the building collapses.
You can appreciate what they were going for here. A sort of JCVD for the ageing Korean TV/film star set. This is most evident in the opening sequence, a knowing montage of the star in his heyday lounging on a motorbike, or giving his trademark finger wave to camera. Yet where Jean-Claude van Damme was intertextual and self-referential, Cha In-Pyo is quite literally phoning it in.
Once the naked Cha gets stuck under rubble, it’s about the last thing of any note to happen for another 70 minutes or so. More concerned with his reputation and being seen naked on TV, he naturally phones his manager A-Ram (Cho Dal-Hwan), who reluctantly helps keep rescue teams away.
Much of the plot, such as it is, consists of A-Ram and Cha discussing the latter’s career, or lack thereof, while Cha ponders existence in the buff. This is exactly as exciting as it sounds. Really broad slapstick – including an excruciatingly long gag involving fans and a hand covered in dog poop – gives way to a bizarre series of conversations, cutaways and dick jokes.
Most disturbing is the fixation the film has with the acts of ‘perverts’ and school girls. If Cha isn’t finding abandoned underwear, or worried about being accused of perversion, there’s a subplot involving a sex offender and school girl investigating the area. At one point, there’s a flashback to a teacher discussing the viscosity of semen. What kind of a school is this anyway?
You could be forgiving and say that this would work better if you knew Cha’s filmography, but one suspects this has little to do with anything Cha has done before. You could pretty much replace the lead with anybody of a similar vintage. Not a great start to 2021 in film.
2021 | South Korea| DIRECTOR: Kim Dong-kyu | WRITER: Kim Dong-kyu | CAST: Cha In-pyo, Cho Dal-hwan, Song Jar-ryong | DISTRIBUTOR: Netflix | RUNNING TIME: 102 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 1 January 2021 (AUS)
This time last year, I was reviewing my favourite Asia cinema releases of 2019. As we reach the very end of 2020, it’s a very different film landscape.
Despite the lower number of cinema releases, my list of 20 Asian films to watch out for in 2020 has consistently remained one of my most-viewed posts of the year. Strangely, it’s still far more accurate than my more general list. The retrospectively optimistic piece saw at least half of it’s films out in some form, so it had a higher hit rate than the Hollywood and indie list.
So, instead of ranking and listing films as I normally would, here’s a potted summary of things that came out, things I thought were worth watching and the stuff I wrote about.
Japan
Given that 2020 was the year I started studying the Japanese language, it’s unsurprising that the bulk of my watching fell under Nihon no eiga. The industry emerged from the inward-looking approach of the last few years, competing internationally at with films like Naomi Kawase’s True Mothers.
If the world had not been actually plagued by a global pandemic, Toshiaki Toyoda’s DAY OF DESTRUCTION, would have dropped in Japanese cinemas on 24 July, the opening day of the Tokyo Olympics. (Indeed, Kawase was set to direct the official film of the games). It remains the first of several visceral films that emerged from the COVID-19 era, with its frenetic mixture of sound, vision and fury that is impossible to be apathetic about.
Similarly, several films reflected on the Fukushima tragedy and surrounding areas almost a decade on. Nobuhiro Suwa’s beautiful and intense VOICES IN THE WIND continues the conversation around grief and healing is only just beginning for a generation; while Setsuro Wakamatsu’s blockbuster FUKUSHIMA 50 was a high budget film that remained centrist in its politics.
Tatsushi Omori’s intense character study MOTHER, released internationally on Netflix, is a harrowing but essential piece of contemporary Japanese cinema. Led by remarkable performances from Masami Nagasawa and newcomers Sho Gunji and Daiken Okudaira (playing her son at different ages), this exploration of a toxic mother/son relationship is sensational without being sensationalised.
Cult favourite Sion Sono delivered his most accessible and joyfully strange dissection of the film industry in RED POST ON ESCHER STREET, and also penned the epic ‘single take’ CRAZY SAMURAI MUSASHIfor Yûji Shimomura. Now we just patiently await the long-delayed Prisoners of the Ghostland, finally due for release in 2021.
Taboos and social issues were tackled in a terrific series of must-sees from the year: same-sex couples and custody rights in the prolific Rikiya Imaizumi’s HIS; disability and sexuality in 37 SECONDS; and indigenous traditions in Takeshi Fukunaga’s AINU MOSIR. The powerful FORGIVEN CHILDREN (from director Eisuke Naito) takes a hard look at the court systems versus natural justice, along with being an unflinching look at bullying. Even ROMANCE DOLL, while less successful overall, still managed to explore Japan’s complicated relationship with sex and the sex industry while showcasing the perpetually excellent Yū Aoi.
On the anime front, Netflix viewers got to see the slightly disappointing A WHISKER AWAY, while the VIOLET EVERGARDEN movie hit Australian cinemas. As the year closed out, Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba – The Movie: Mugen Train bucked Japanese box office trends and became the highest grossing domestic film of the year.
A grab bag of other Japanese films I enjoyed this year include the brief dad-rap feature GEEK BEEF BEAT, the impossibly over-the-top PROJECT DREAMS: HOW TO BUILD MAZINGER Z’S HANGER, Hideo Nakata’s lockdown horror film REMOTE DE KOROSARERU, documentary PRISON CIRCLE, the surrealistic DONG TENG TOWN, and the completely batshit kaiju throwback MONSTER SEAFOOD WARS.
South Korean cinema was riding on a high from Bong Joon-ho’s Parasite win at the Oscars, and every SK release was billed as ‘the next Parasite.’ None of them came close, and certainly not in obsessive internet fandom, but it did create more of a presence on Netflix and other streaming networks. (I’ve lost track of co-workers who have told me that they are ‘really into Korean drama right now.’)
Of course, the biggest box office release of the year was PENINSULA, the sequel to Train to Busan. Tonally different to its predecessor, it’s still a cracker of an action/heist film – but with plenty of zombies. Indeed, the Zombie Wave shows no signs of letting up across South Korea with 2020 blockbuster #ALIVE – another great example of an #isofilm – along with period drama Kingdom and TCO’s recent Night of the Undead series both taking bites out of audiences.
Korea had a number of reliably thrilling thrillers, lead by the historical (and slightly controversial) THE MAN STANDING NEXT , a slickly produced capture of a moment in time that remains divisive to this day. The cast and photography are excellent. Similarly, BEASTS CLAWING AT STRAWS is as stylish and twisty as it is stabby. Director Kim Yong-hoon’s debut heralds a new voice to watch and possibly Korea’s answer to the Coen Brothers. Finally, the Netflix debuting A TIME TO HUNT is curious spin on the heist genre, a handsome production with a solid cast that elevates some familiar motifs in what is sure to be a future cult film.
I couldn’t get away without mentioning at least one K-Pop related film. BLACKPINK: LIGHT UP THE SKY is a fascinating documentary that may have made a fan out of me. Caroline Suh’s film digs at least a little bit beneath the surface of the ‘overnight’ sensations, showing us the years of training that goes into that debut.
While the Korean Film Festival was sadly cut short due to technical issues, what we did see was terrific. Zhang Lu’s FUKUOKA is another multicultural exploration of otherness, bringing an excellent cast and a winking sense of humour. Jung Jin-Young’s ME AND ME is a curious mixture of mystery and dreamlike abstraction, pulling on some unexpected threads – and is disarmingly funny at times too. BASEBALL GIRL is a low-key sports drama with a twist that bucks several of the conventions while maintaining a strong sense of character. Speaking of festivals, the experimental animation GHOSTS debuted in Australia at MIFF and it was a bright spot in an already excellent festival.
Finally, while MINARI wasn’t technically a Korean production, the US film from director Lee Isaac Chung is almost entirely in Korean language. As sweeping and character driven as any dustbowl classic, this is a beautifully constructed tale of otherness, family and surviving adversity.
China
It was going to be a massive year for Chinese film. Back in January, I wrote a piece about celebrating the Year of the Rat with a collection of New Year’s films. Yet as Covid started to make its way across China, those films began to drop off schedules. When I visited Melbourne in February, weeks before we all started going into lockdown, the Chinatown Cinema was temporarily shuttered up.
Yet film persisted and China released some major titles at either end of the year. October’s JIANG ZIYA: LEGEND OF DEIFICATION follows last year’s Ne Zha as an impeccably animated film that blends mythology, adult storytelling and modern conventions. It expands a cinematic universe while standing strong as its own tale. Li Yun-bo’s WILD SWORDS similarly remixes the wuxia genre, and it would almost be described as low-key and gentle were it not for the violent subject matter.
Lau Ho-Leung’s CAUGHT IN TIME is a based-on-a-true-story heist film that wears its influences on its sleeve but it’s stylish and there’s some damn fine set-pieces. There is the obvious comparisons with Heat, and John Woo’s The Killer is visually referenced with an actual clip from the 1989 cult classic used several times. Yet this is not to imply that Lau’s film is wholly unoriginal, as it has its own style and vibe to match.
MY PEOPLE MY HOMELAND was criticised as being excessively jingoistic, but to claim this and be done with it would be to ignore the role of the National Day films in Chinese popular culture. An anthology film that successfully lured Chinese audiences back to the box-office, this is a slick affair, and something you’d expect from the presence of Zhang Yimou as supervising director/executive producer.
LEAP, on the other hand, chronicles the history of women’s volleyball in China, and is often a film at war with itself. It’s an unsurprisingly nationalistic look at the successes of the team in the 1980s, the lead-up to the 2008 Beijing Olympics, the 2016 Rio games and beyond. Yet there are some unexpected conflicts with the official party credo on occasion, making this is a little bit more than a showreel.
Less successful was SNIPER, which somehow turned out to be the 100th film I saw this year. Feeling for all the world like an extended TV pilot, which a quick Google tells me exactly what this is, it’s nevertheless got the same levels of jingoistic action, sweeping shots of the desert and dodgy accents that we’ve come to expect (and love) in Chinese blockbusters. It’s a sniper film, so you better believe that there’s plenty of slow-mo bullet shots too.
As the year came to a close, THE RESCUE finally hit cinemas. Dante Lam’s highly anticipated action film may not have been a darling with the critics, but it provided some retro action when we (probably) needed it.
Hong Kong
It’s a massive understatement to say that Hong Kong is having a moment or two right now. In HONG KONG MOMENTS, writer and documentarian Zhou Bing follows seven Hongkongers in this timely and important snapshot of a critical moment in the history of Hong Kong.
On the flip side, co-production THE CALM BEYOND imagines Hong Kong’s future in ways that even Ten Years (2015) could not. An alternatively tense and understated bit of speculative fiction, this collaborative production is a slick affair that is one of the better recent examples of genre fare.
SUK SUK, a film about both ageism and homophobia in Hong Kong, had been on the festival circuit since 2019, but got a wider release internationally this year. On some levels, Yeung’s film is more successful as a message delivery device than as a narrative piece. Yet for an industry where gay characters have frequently been used for comic effect or as the best friend in a rom-com, Ray Yeung’s film represents something of a quantum leap for Hong Kong cinema.
Of course, Dayo Wong Tze-Wah’s THE GRAND GRANDMASTER also came out this year, a throwback and mild parody of martial arts master epics. It is all over the place tonally, but its charismatic cast and some broad comedy is designed to appeal to a wide audience. It’s been a year for lacklustre Hong Kong throwbacks: Donnie Yen headlined a remake of ENTER THE FAT DRAGON, while the ironically named ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL 2020 – the seventh sequel to the 1992 film – saw Raymond Wong return to the franchise.
Taiwan
Taiwanese history had an unexpected boost early in the year when Netflix debuted TIGERTAIL in April, a curious tale that aims for understated romance against a historical backdrop, but its thin plotting and character development keeps the audience at arm’s length.
Yet it was iWEIRDO that high the festival circuit this year, with screenings at both the New York Asian Film Festival, Fantasia and beyond. Focusing on a couple in a relationship while living with OCD, it’s as charming as it is real. Made before the pandemic, and shot (almost) entirely on an iPhone – save for a few clear special effects sequences – a couple wearing masks and gloves to go outside doesn’t seem that ‘weird’ at this end of 2020.
YOUR NAME ENGRAVED HEREIN hit Netflix in the last weeks of the year. Taiwan’s highest-grossing LGBTQI+ focused film, the remarkable story is based on true events from the late 1980s in Taiwan and contains a tribute to gay rights activist Chi Chia-wei.
As an ethnic Korean born in China, filmmaker Zhang Lü’s works have often examined people straddling cultural bridges. Following a lighter beat from 2014’s Gyeongju and the excellent A Quiet Dream (2016), Zhang’s latest film once again returns to the concepts of otherness and outsiders in a foreign landscape.
With FUKUOKA (후쿠오카), Zhang quite literally straddles two countries by taking his characters from Korea to Japan. Je-Moon (Yoon Je-Moon) owns a bookstore, and his regular customer So-Dam (Park So-Dam) suggests (strongly) that they should travel to Fukuoka. There they meet Hae-Hyo (Kwon Hae-Hyo), who shared Je-Moon’s love for the unseen Soon-Yi almost three decades earlier.
It’s almost impossible not to compare Zhang with Hong Sang-soo. Well, maybe not impossible. It’s entirely possible I could have not typed that sentence but I did anyway. The similarities come in a drifting narrative that concentrates on long character-based takes, and slow revelations about the past coming out through these conversations.
The big distinction is that there isn’t that sense that the other shoe is going to drop at any moment, and Zhang is content to follow this trio through their random encounters across the northern shore of Kyushu. So-Dam seems to be able to communicate with practically anybody she meets, despite protesting that she isn’t multilingual, all the while toting around a classic Chinese erotic novel. Symbolism is found everywhere, including a communications tower that is visible from almost every spot in Fukuoka – and mirrors the Eiffel Tower on So-Dam’s tote bag.
Three excellent lead performances are a masterclass. Through their casual interplay and meanderings, revelations about the past slowly emerge within the context of this foreign place. By the time So-dam suggests that she play Soon-yi in some kind of throuple situation, the film’s tongue is planted so firmly in cheek that’s it’s practically bulging with coy irony.
Zhang’s next film, his first Chinese film in over a decade. It will explore a similar theme, as two brothers travel from China to Yanagawa in Fukuoka to find the girl they loved in their youth. It’s just as well, because this is the kind of film that could keep going all day and you’d be cool with it. Now, to find the shortest path to the bar.
2020 | South Korean | DIRECTOR: Zhang Lu | WRITER: Zhang Lu | CAST: Kwon Hae-hyo, Yoon Je-moon, Park So-dam| DISTRIBUTOR: Korean Film Festival in Australia (AUS)| RUNNING TIME: 85 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 29 October – 5 November 2020 (KOFFIA)
Read more coverage of South Korean cinema from the silent era to festivals and other contemporary releases. Plus go beyond Korea with more film from Asia in Focus.
Originally released in its native South Korea in 2016, Cho Nam-Joo’s book shot to fame in South Korea when floor leader of the Justice Party’s Roh Hoe-chan gifted the book to President Moon Jae-in. The book, which concerns a stay-at-home mother with depression, was inscribed with a message that read “Please embrace ‘Kim Ji-young Born ’82.’”
The film adaptation of KIM JI-YOUNG, BORN 1982 (82년생 김지영) arrives in a timely fashion as the global #MeToo movement shares similar true tales of everyday discrimination. Most descriptions will tell you that the titular Kim Ji-Young (Jung Yu-Mi) is an ordinary woman in her 30s who starts experiencing signs of being someone else. Of course, that spooky sounding plotline speaks more to the ‘otherness’ she has been experiencing her whole life as a woman in Korea.
This film signals the feature directorial debut of actor Kim Do-young, perhaps best known for roles in films like The Righteous Thief (2009). In translating the novel to the screen, she and co-writer Yoo Young-ah (On Your Wedding Day) have managed work Cho’s vignettes into a single narrative while maintaining the cumulative impact of institutionalised sexism. From dealing with groping as a schoolgirl to familial and societal expectations of Ji-young as a mother, her wants and needs have consistently been secondary to those of her brother, husband, and father.
Ostensibly about indoctrinated misogyny in South Korea, there’s a universality to Ji-young’s experience. Following the book’s structure of a life as a case study, albeit without the bookends of a male doctor analysing her experience, Ji-young’s life might be viewed by the men in her life extraordinary but the truth is that it’s the cumulative and systemic micro (and let’s face it, macro) aggressions that determine her fate.
Early in the film, Ji-young overhears someone referring to her coffee break with child in tow as a “comfortable life,” a viewpoint shared by many men in her circle. Her father gets easily outraged by any woman’s role that is not child-rearing, while Ji-young’s mother-in-law is furious that her return to work might jeopardise her own son’s career.
Jung Yu-Mi – known for her roles in Oki’s Movie, Train to Busan and Psychokinesis – delivers a powerfully understated and award-winning performance. Her stoicism in the face of prosaic prejudice gives added weight to the film. Equally fierce is Ji-young’s mother, who’s vocal opposition to the men in their lives leads to a semi-breakdown on screen. The men, of course, stand about impotent in the face of emotion.
When the book and film were released in Korea, headlines spoke of it increasing tensions in the local market and couples breaking up over it. The messaging is not necessarily subtle, but neither is the discrimination against women. It’s precisely the ordinariness of these (typically male) viewpoints that, when taken together in a single document such as this, demonstrate how stacked the system is against career-minded women. Yet it would also be very easy to dismiss this as a Korean problem, and if this timely tale shows us anything it’s that society has a collective culpability in perpetuating it or a responsibility to instigate change.
2019 | South Korean | DIRECTOR: Kim Do-young | WRITER: Kim Do-young, Yoo Young-Ah| CAST: Jung Yu-mi, Gong Yoo, Kim Mi-kyeong | DISTRIBUTOR: Little Monster Entertainment/Korean Film Festival in Australia (AUS)| RUNNING TIME: 120 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 29 October – 5 November2020 (KOFFIA)
Read more coverage of South Korean cinema from the silent era to festivals and other contemporary releases. Plus go beyond Korea with more film from Asia in Focus.
Jung Jin-Young is probably best known to fans of Korean cinema from his appearances in front of the camera. A frequent collaborator with filmmaker Lee Joon-ik (Once Upon a Battlefield), he’s also won acting awards for multiple drama series such as Glamorous Temptation. For his feature directorial debut, he’s chosen to helm a psychological mystery that’s not quite what you’d expect.
Almost every official description of this film gives away far too much, and there’s a genuine pleasure in discovery. So, let’s be a little more vague here. Married couple Soo-Hyeok (Bae Soo-Bin) and Yi-Young (Cha Soo-Yeon) have recently moved to a small town, and neighbour Hae-Kyun (Jung Hae-Kyun) becomes intrigued by Yi-Young’s nocturnal changes. Following a tragic incident, detective Hyeong-Goo (Cho Jin-Woong) arrives in town to find his life turned upside down.
ME AND ME (사라진 시간) is not a film that’s easy to penetrate, which seems deliberate on the part of writer/director Jung. Without giving away too much, the first act concentrates on the couple, keeping us at arm’s length with something akin to an ethereal love story. With the introduction of the detective, the audience is left to share in his confusion.
The translated English title speaks partly to the theme of duality at play here, the kind that David Lynch and countless contemporaries have long played with. Yet the more literal translation of “lost time” may give us a few more clues as to the lost highway Hyeong-Goo is on. As events and characters repeat with a different perspective, the film becomes a puzzle to be assembled.
Cho Jin-Woong (The Spy Gone North, Believer) is as reliable a lead as ever. While he could happily play detectives for the rest of his career, the subversion of the traditional detective role here is enough to distinguish it from his previous high-profile performances. The supporting cast, especially Jung Hae-Kyun, are also excellent. Through the local villagers, much of the unlikely humour of social situations comes through.
Not all of these elements pull together as effectively as one might like, and the ending is apt to leave more than one viewer a little cold. Yet there’s some intriguing concepts here, and it feels reasonably safe to say that Jung’s directorial debut marks him as a voice to listen out for in the future.
2020 | South Korean | DIRECTOR: Jung Jin-Young | WRITER: Jung Jin-Young | CAST: Cho Jin-woong, Bae Soo-bin, Jeong Hae-gyoon | DISTRIBUTOR: Korean Film Festival in Australia (AUS)| RUNNING TIME: 104 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 29 October – 5 November 2020 (KOFFIA)
Read more coverage of South Korean cinema from the silent era to festivals and other contemporary releases. Plus go beyond Korea with more film from Asia in Focus.
If you’re a fan of film in 2020, about the only phrases you’ve heard more often than ‘physical distancing’ and ‘flatten the curve’ are ‘online’ and ‘film festival.’ Not to be outdone, the always excellent Korean Film Festival in Australia are offering their 2020 program entirely online – and free!
The 18 films on offer are all from this year and 2019, covering everything from the bittersweet coming of age film The House of Us through to the broader comedy of the animal buddy film Mr. Zoo: The Missing VIP.
Still, even with the masses of time #isolife affords us, you still need to save time. So, here’s a list of some of my favourite picks based on a winning combination of previous viewings, fan enthusiasm and hope.
You can catch all of these films at koffiaonline.com from 29 October through to 5 November. Check the site for times. All of them are free: you just need to sign up.
The Man Standing Next
Joining the ranks of A Taxi Driver, TheSpy Gone North and 1987: When the Day Comes, director Woo Min-ho’s THE MAN STANDING NEXT (남산의 부장들) is the latest period political piece to tackle a controversial subject. Indeed, the presidency of Park Chung-hee (played here by Lee Sung-min) remains divisive to this day. A slickly produced snapshot of a moment in time that remains divisive to this day. An excellent cast and beautiful photography lift this above the average bear. Read the full review.
My Punch-Drunk Boxer
Another contemporary South Korean film from an actor-director. Jung Hyuk-ki (Romance in Seoul) tells the story of former boxing champ Byeong-Goo (A Taxi Driver‘s Um Tae-Goo) intent on making a comeback despite his CTE diagnosis. It also stars the singular-named Hyeri (formerly of K-pop group Girls’ Day) in his support squad.
Kim Ji-young, Born 1982
Based on the excellent 2016 novel by Cho Nam-Joo, this is a good chance to catch a film that you may have missed during its brief run in cinemas. Ostensibly about indoctrinated misogyny in South Korea, there’s a universality to the titular Kim Jiyoung’s experience as she faces cumulative and systemic aggressions that determine her fate.
Forbidden Dream
It wouldn’t be a Korean film festival without a bit of historical drama. This one follows its debut at NYAFF 2020. From The Last Princess director Hur Jin-ho, it follows the historical figure of Sejong the Great (Han Suk-kyu), king of the Joseon dynasty of Korea, and the relationship he fostered with his greatest scientist, Jang Yeong-sil (the seemingly ubiquitous Choi Min-sik).
Baseball Girl
Look, I’m just a sucker for a sports film, okay? Like Kim Ji-young, Born 1982, this is another film tackling endemic prejudice in society. Like the short-lived US series Pitch, it’s the story of Joo Soo-in (A Quiet Dream‘s Lee Joo-youn) who is determined to become the first female baseball player to join a professional team.
Read more coverage of South Korean cinema from the silent era to festivals and other contemporary releases. Plus go beyond Korea with more film from Asia in Focus.
