Nov. 29th, 2013 09:35 pm
The king isn't dead, he's only sleeping
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muckefuckToday was supposed to be my own stay-at-home version of Black Friday. I've hardly given any thought to holiday gifts yet, let alone bought a damn thing, and thought I'd set aside the day for perusing everyone's wish lists and setting some merchandise in the hands of the post office. But somehow, that never happened. I puttered around, made some tea, debated which book to read, sat in a sunny spot stroking the cat, and basically behaved like I was taking another sick day--only with the benefit of ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
monshu's company, still punch drunk from his very successful Thanksgiving.
Around mid-afternoon, as I observed that the unexpected sunshine was beginning to fade I suggested we retreat to the den to watch 광해 (Masquerade), a South Korean costume drama. Literally, the title is "Gwanghae", the personal name of the 15th sovereign of Korea's Chosŏn dynasty, and I was ashamed at my faulty recollection of his life and deeds, particularly given that hardly two months ago we'd watched another historical drama set during the reign of his successor. I remembered only that he was either despised or lionised in contemporary Korea. (The latter, as it turns out.)
Essentially, the movie is Moon over Parador in hanbok. A lowly gwangdae or itinerant comic performer (and thus a member of the outcast caste in Chosŏn society) is scooped up at the behest of King Gwanghae, who fears assassination. Almost immediately, his fears become reality and the imposter is forced to assume the throne while the comatose king is spirited away to a remote location for treatment. He grows into his role and begins to assert his authority, precipitating a crisis which leads to an attempt at a coup. In sharp contrast to the Dreyfuss vehicle, the Raúl Juliá role is filled by an upstanding servant of the throne who becomes more sympathetic as the movies goes on. (And, naturally, despite a prominent romantic subplot, the king's wife and concubines remain unsullied.)
Some of the comic business and more melodramatic flourishes (such as the overdone ending) didn't work for me. But overall it was, in the GWO's words, "a really good movie". Lead actors Lee Byung-hun (as both the king and the fool) and Han Hyo-joo are both good, but it was Ryu Seung-ryong as the Royal Secretary who I couldn't take my eyes off of (or ears--what a voice!). There's a solid supporting cast as well, particularly Jang Gwang as the Chief Eunuch who takes an avuncular interest in the imposter's political education. The sets are stunning and I enjoyed the attention to some routine details of court life (even while others get flagrantly ignored in more histrionic scenes).
I try to judge historical flicks more on verisimilitude than accuracy. After asking how well they work as films, the next question I have is, "Did this raise my interest in the period in question?" If I find myself wanting to know more about the figures and events, then I consider it a win. Gwanghae-gun is an intriguing figure and I'd like to know more about him. The son of a concubine, his position was always precarious; as the aftertitles tell us, seven years later he found himself deposed (in the events which form the background of the opening sequence in that movie from earlier). The factionalism among officials vividly depicted in the film continued up until (and was a factor in) the Japanese takeover.
Linguistically, I didn't catch too much of interest. I even had trouble understanding the term of address for the king despite hearing it probably a hundred times in two hours (I kept understanding it as 천아 "Son of Heaven" when it was really 전하, lit. "beneath the palace"--a euphemism to avoid making direct mention of the royal personage) though I did correctly parse "Chief Eunuch" (내관, lit. "inside official"). I don't recall hearing as much court register as I'd been expecting. (Koreans generally have a decent familiarity with it due to the popularity of royal dramas on television.) There was a curious reference, never explained, to the clown not being of low birth due to his passing knowledge of Chinese characters, but it was never clear how much he could really read. (He is shown studying some texts, but only with the help of his Inside Official.)
monshu's company, still punch drunk from his very successful Thanksgiving.Around mid-afternoon, as I observed that the unexpected sunshine was beginning to fade I suggested we retreat to the den to watch 광해 (Masquerade), a South Korean costume drama. Literally, the title is "Gwanghae", the personal name of the 15th sovereign of Korea's Chosŏn dynasty, and I was ashamed at my faulty recollection of his life and deeds, particularly given that hardly two months ago we'd watched another historical drama set during the reign of his successor. I remembered only that he was either despised or lionised in contemporary Korea. (The latter, as it turns out.)
Essentially, the movie is Moon over Parador in hanbok. A lowly gwangdae or itinerant comic performer (and thus a member of the outcast caste in Chosŏn society) is scooped up at the behest of King Gwanghae, who fears assassination. Almost immediately, his fears become reality and the imposter is forced to assume the throne while the comatose king is spirited away to a remote location for treatment. He grows into his role and begins to assert his authority, precipitating a crisis which leads to an attempt at a coup. In sharp contrast to the Dreyfuss vehicle, the Raúl Juliá role is filled by an upstanding servant of the throne who becomes more sympathetic as the movies goes on. (And, naturally, despite a prominent romantic subplot, the king's wife and concubines remain unsullied.)
Some of the comic business and more melodramatic flourishes (such as the overdone ending) didn't work for me. But overall it was, in the GWO's words, "a really good movie". Lead actors Lee Byung-hun (as both the king and the fool) and Han Hyo-joo are both good, but it was Ryu Seung-ryong as the Royal Secretary who I couldn't take my eyes off of (or ears--what a voice!). There's a solid supporting cast as well, particularly Jang Gwang as the Chief Eunuch who takes an avuncular interest in the imposter's political education. The sets are stunning and I enjoyed the attention to some routine details of court life (even while others get flagrantly ignored in more histrionic scenes).
I try to judge historical flicks more on verisimilitude than accuracy. After asking how well they work as films, the next question I have is, "Did this raise my interest in the period in question?" If I find myself wanting to know more about the figures and events, then I consider it a win. Gwanghae-gun is an intriguing figure and I'd like to know more about him. The son of a concubine, his position was always precarious; as the aftertitles tell us, seven years later he found himself deposed (in the events which form the background of the opening sequence in that movie from earlier). The factionalism among officials vividly depicted in the film continued up until (and was a factor in) the Japanese takeover.
Linguistically, I didn't catch too much of interest. I even had trouble understanding the term of address for the king despite hearing it probably a hundred times in two hours (I kept understanding it as 천아 "Son of Heaven" when it was really 전하, lit. "beneath the palace"--a euphemism to avoid making direct mention of the royal personage) though I did correctly parse "Chief Eunuch" (내관, lit. "inside official"). I don't recall hearing as much court register as I'd been expecting. (Koreans generally have a decent familiarity with it due to the popularity of royal dramas on television.) There was a curious reference, never explained, to the clown not being of low birth due to his passing knowledge of Chinese characters, but it was never clear how much he could really read. (He is shown studying some texts, but only with the help of his Inside Official.)