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[SAGEUK WORLD] Hometown of Legends - The Wrath of Juk Island

By: MisterX
Aug 26, 2009
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2009 전설의 고향 (2009 Hometown of Legends)
Episode 2
죽도의 한 (The Wrath of Juk Island)
Aired on KBS2, 2009/08/11
PD 김정민 (Kim Jung-Min) 
WRITER 문은정 (Moon Eun-Jung)
CAST 정겨운 (Jung Gyeo-Woon), 조윤희 (Jo Yoon-Hee), 김갑수 (Kim Gab-Soo), 김규철 (Kim Gyu-Cheol), 이다윗 (Lee David), 정진 (Jung Jin), 장태성 (Jang Tae-Sung)


I still remember that closing comment at the end of 한성별곡-正 (Conspiracy in the Court); still think about it every time I manage to endure a drama up to the end (no small feat in these dark ages), and see its own closing comment. Most just indulge the viewer with the same old platitudes recycled from twenty years ago: "our deepest and sincerest gratitude for all the love (even if DC galleries were filled with thirty pages of insults per day) and support (even if it recorded an average of 3%) you gave us. From next week, another abomination from this forsaken industry will start broadcasting." And the vicious circle would go on. But what Kwak Jung-Hwan, Park Jin-Woo and everyone else involved in the making of one of Korean TV's greatest achievements wrote was deceptively simpler: 방송의 주인은 시청자 여러분입니다. This station and the dramas it produces all belong to you, the viewers. Well, it was true, in a sense. Whereas SBS is owned by right wing-leaning conglomerate Taeyoung and other bottom line-crazy shareholders, and MBC is a public broadcaster only in theory, KBS is indeed government-run, and paid for by taxpayers' money through the license fee. So what Kwak and Co. were telling us was that Koreans' hard earned money deserved enough respect to be paid back with something of this stature. Would doing things this way every single day, seven days a week and fifty two weeks a year be feasible? Certainly not. But at least trying to find the light at the end of the tunnel would help, every once in a while.

I thought of a million excuses to explain how someone who had just ten years in the can as assistant producer could join forces with an untested newcomer and create the best fusion sageuk of all time, just like that, at the snap of a finger. At first I couldn't, but then I looked at their filmography, and I quickly understood. Ha! Dramacity, this often neglected little training farm which in the last ten years gave us some of the most talented young blood in the entire industry. Why was it Dramacity, and not MBC's 베스트극장 (Best Theater), a similar format with an even richer history? Because MBC mostly used those short dramas to groom potential hit-makers (in turn finding very little, save for a couple of PDs and a half dozen writers over the course of the last decade), whereas KBS gave its young blood almost free reign to experiment, and even make big mistakes, which sometimes is even more important. You'd find Dramacity episodes written and directed by people who were mailing it in on purpose, showing to the head honchos that they could helm a popular drama and make them big money, yes. But at least once every four to six weeks you'd find a little gem, sparks of creativity exploding on the screen, reminding you why this show, broadcast on late weekends nights to an audience hovering in between the 5% and 10%, was the most important hour broadcast by all three stations in the entire week. Because it was the future. I've written torrents of words regarding the downfall of the Korean drama industry in the last two years, but if someone asked me to point the finger at only one cause in particular, that'd be it. No more Dramacity. No more future. No more fun.

Technically, the short drama format is not dead. MBC and SBS still make one or two per year, mostly during national holidays -- in 2009's case, SBS' 그남자의 나라 (His Country) with Jo Hee-Bong would deserve a mention -- and of course we still have KBS, with one TV 문학관 (TV Literature Series) project this year and 전설의 고향 (Hometown of Legends), coming back after last summer's successful run. Considering this is the only way for young up and coming talent to get a shot -- instead of the usual employment by the numbers rule, which forces madly talented people like Kim Yong-Soo to work as director of photography, because PD seats are reserved for all the turncoats who went freelance or with the indies, and KBS has to justify employing them one way or another -- this series is crucial regardless of quality and/or rating performances. The Dramacity return vaguely suggested late last year is taking longer to come into fruition (I'm sure KBS' newly elected El Presidente is behind this, considering who pulled the strings to get him there in the first place. After all, culture that doesn't make money isn't worth squat, right?), so this is all we've got. And, surprise surprise, after an utterly embarrassing start, it seems like it might not be so bad after all.

And that brings up the question. Why, why oh why on earth did we have to start with 혈귀 (Bloodsucking Wraith), particularly when all following five episodes aired so far, even one directed by the same PD/writer duo of that abomination, have been far superior? Why, simply because of the idea that a somewhat new concept like vampires in the Joseon dynasty could for some reason convince half the country to forget Deokman Longstockings for a night, and tune in to watch Kim Ji-Seok rap in front of Grim Reapers? Yeah, sure. Last year's first offering, Kwak Jung-Hwan's 구미호 (The Fox with Nine Tails), was a fresh and modern reworking of a staple of the series, and managed to inject a healthy dose of social commentary into what had usually been a lame scarefest with top actresses donning Ray Harryhausen-like costumes. But anyone who had the "pleasure" of watching our first installment this year was probably scared away from anything this series will offer through its remaining nine episodes, and it wasn't because of ghosts. That's a shame, because there's some pretty good material here, starting from episode number two, 죽도의 한 (The Wrath of Juk Island).

One of the most fascinating aspects of this series was the ability to connect traditional canons like 권선징악 (good prevails over evil) to some historical commentary of sorts. This particularly happened in the 70s and started faltering with the second generation of Hometown of Legends aired in the 1990s, when lousy special effects often obscured some pretty decent scripts. It was also one of last year's most welcome sights, particularly on the best episode of the lot, the wonderful 귀서 (Ghost Letter), which brilliantly connected the King Injong and Queen Mother Munjeong controversy to themes of filial piety, motherhood and the ruthless political mores which guided life in the palace at the time. Although not quite reaching those levels, The Wrath of Juk Island reminds in some ways of last year's best short drama, mixing a healthy dose of history with strong thematic consciousness, and just enough chills to satisfy those who want blood, thick mascara and long black hair shoved down their throats. Once again, a look at the makers' filmography, and here was the answer. Dramacity, again.

Writer Moon Eun-Jung is still pretty new to the game, only penning the watchable Dramacity 사랑팔아.com (Sell Love.Com) from 2008 and last year's "Legends" installment 사진검의 저주 (The Curse of the Sajin Sword) starring Choi Su-Jong. But it's PD Kim Jung-Min who particularly stands out, not so much for his overall body of work, but for the versatility he's shown over the years. He directed the 2004 TV Novel 그대는 별 (You're My Star), the interesting 2006 youth drama 일단 뛰어 (Just Run), a couple of "Legends" episodes last year, and a few Dramacity episodes, with one particularly standing out. Telling the story of two people from completely different walks of life just as one of world cinema's brightest stars left us, 장국영이 죽었다고 (Leslie Cheung is Dead) remains one of the most memorable short dramas of all times, with a killer performance by leads Kim Min-Joo and Jang Hyun-Sung, oozing a magical atmosphere which smelled a little bit of Hur Jin-Ho, Lee Yoon-Gi and early Jang Yoon-Hyun. So, yes, another promising PD on our hands, particularly considering what we get here.

The story is very simple, and one could even say it's structurally derivative: its modus operandi is similar to 알포인트 (R-Point), what with all the troops sent to an island to retrieve the body of an alleged traitor, and falling prey to their inner demons and illusions. But its themes and denouement also take a page or two out of cult sageuk 혈의 누 (Blood Rain)'s book -- which really improves with age, just like a great whiskey -- albeit this time we get a much gentler, less misanthropic ending. If you've seen a few sageuk dealing with activist "heroes of the people," then you more or less can suspect where this is leading. A world where everyone can enjoy equal freedom and opportunities, where no discrimination and oppression exist, and where the fruits of everyone's work are to be shared. It's the same mantra of 임꺽정 (Im Kkeok-Jeong)'s fatal struggle, the voices guiding 신돈 (Shin Don)'s decadently benevolent soul, not to mention the fire Heo Gyun of 천둥소리 (Roll of Thunder) walks with. And, just like those illustrious predecessors, The Wrath of Juk Island can boast a real story behind its narrative trappings, that of one of Joseon's most revolutionary thinkers.

The year 1589, King Seonjo's 22nd on the throne. A devastating persecution brought demise to over one thousand people, some of them brutally executed on the spot, others tortured all the way to a deadly exile, and even some spending their few remaining days in slavery. The death count far surpassed any of the four great purges of literati, but evidently Neo-Confucianism drenched the pages of history with its creed to the very end, making a measly few minions' blood pale in comparison with the thicker, nobler blood of those scholars. Some say the ominous killings which ravaged the Joseon of that year (which had a total population of a little over five million people, so it's no small figure) enraged divine providence, which answered three years later with the devastating start of the Imjin War. Imagine for a moment if all those deaths and an entire province (Jeolla) being turned into 'traitor's territory" for centuries all depended upon the ideology of a single man. That man was none other than "Jukdo Seonsaeng," Jeong Yeorip.

Jeong's proto-socialist notions in a nation which used Neo-Confucianism and its tenets as a self-aggrandizing political means could never be accepted, for the same exact reasons why people like Im Kkeok-Jeong, Heo Gyun and Christian missionaries during the late 18th-early 19th century were persecuted. Maintaining status quo for the royal family and their equivalent of a Pavlov's dog, the nobility, was even more important than maintaining their pride, which is why they accepted the virtual vassaldom first the Ming and then the Qing "forced" upon them. But that is not what is interesting about Jeong's cult-like following. What truly can titillate an history buff's appetite is the way in which his little revolution was suppressed. If you believe the Annals at face value (and why should you), then you'll read of how Jeong amassed an army of acolytes to overturn the government, and was hence persecuted, he himself taking his own life on the small island of Juk, thereby acknowledging treason.

But then, if you start looking at tangential records and chronicles, things that the powers that be would have never bothered with, the entire treason plot starts to smell like three day old fish. Not only do some of those works suggest he was killed, the entire ordeal fabricated as a suicide to keep the masses from wondering. The more you read into it, the more explicit the fact Jeong was just a victim of the political strife between Westerners and Easterners will become. This controversy was dominating Joseon politics at the time, and Jeong became the perfect catalyst, the best possible scapegoat for political maneuvering, hence beginning this crimson tide of treacherous blood. Now, all this historical "meat" is something the show only tangentially delves into, whenever its characters need it. There's no mention of other historical figures with the exception of Jeong himself, but you can certainly venture to guess. You'd think this would somehow cheapen the impact of Jeong's role, but it actually enhances it tremendously.

Jeong was grassroots all the way, he would rather train and educate people on a little island than spend time in the political arena (that's a long story and kind of a potentially huge can of worms, but let's just say it's not all benevolence, historically speaking. Something forced him out of politics), so focusing on fictional characters which only come into contact with him tangentially is a brilliant move. You get to eliminate a lot of narrative meat which would easily fill a 40-50 episode sageuk, and get directly to the bone of contention, Jeong's dreams and aspirations and how they impacted an island's people, one woman in particular. That woman, and the man she loved, an illegitimate son himself - hence more engrossed by class divide matters, in some ways reminding of Na-Young and Sang-Gyu from Conspiracy in the Court. Sang-Heon's descent into this island of doom to find his loved one might be a trite premise, but once you connect their "impossible love" with the ideology of Jeong Yeorip, it makes for a pretty decent serving of historical consciousness, not to mention a nice little story.

Certainly, this is rather superficial in an historical sense. Jeong is portrayed like an angel on Earth, whereas he might have been basking in shadows more than people would like to admit, particularly considering his political switcheroo tactics during the prime of his career. But that doesn't matter, since the key isn't which side of the story is right in reality (conspiracy vs treason), it's rather the consequences of what the drama assumes to be a conspiracy which matter. Taken in that context, the script does a good enough job at intertwining the micro (Sang-Heon's love story with Mi-Hyang and how it connects with Jeong Yeorip, and Jeong's own "invisible" battle with the men who killed him) with the macro (the conspiracy and all its ramifications for the villagers). Just like most Legends episodes of this kind, the horror quotient is pretty low, exactly because the evil we come into contact with is of the social kind. But it's all held up together pretty well, as the story flows in an organic and rather watchable way, with only a few leaps of faith required -- if anything, I would have dealt with the troops' brewing madness in much more suggestive ways. But what really makes this a pleasant episode is Kim Jung-Min's directing, never going for the cheap thrill and always maintaining a good level of suspense, aided by the percussion-heavy score -- which does remind a little too much of Choi Cheol-Ho's score for 대왕세종 (Sejong the Great), but the variations are effective. Nothing really jumps at you, there are no particular stylistic flourishes, but it's all very solid, from camerawork to editing, from lighting to action.

One of the factors which eventually killed Bloodsucking Wraith was the acting, and it certainly was a question mark for this episode as well, considering both leads had never set foot on a sageuk set before. I can understand Jung Gyeo-Woon's casting: he still lacks technique and I don't know whether he will ever get there, but he's got a certain vibe, a "wretched rich boy" aura which shone through his recent work in 달콤한 인생 (La Dolce Vita) and 미워도 다시한번 (Again, My Love), so I guess they connected the dots and thought of sageuk as the next step. Nobility in a sageuk and rich boys in contemporary dramas are like apples and oranges (particularly if you go down the shoujo manga route, a la Goo Jun-Pyo), so it was a problematic generalization in that sense, but I guess Jung doesn't do as badly as you'd expect. Delivery is often laughable, but he's got the stance and screen presence to somewhat compensate for that. Not a good performance by any means, but rather watchable. Jo Yoon-Hee, on the other hand, is quite a pleasant surprise. She's never really been tested too much, but on her first sageuk outing, she's pretty satisfying. Would actually like to see her again, maybe in a longer sageuk. Yet, the true force of this drama, as you could expect by looking at the cast, is the supporting cast. I'm not going to spend any words on Kim Gyu-Cheol and Kim Gab-Soo other than, well, the fact that they're pure gold, just a joy to watch. But Jung Jin - responsible for one of sageuk history's most memorable cameos in Conspiracy in the Court - is a very, very underrated performer who tends to excel in this kind of setting. I first noticed him as Eric Moon's friend in 신입사원 (Super Rookie), but he's come a long way, and he repeats the good impression here.

The drama could certainly have been better. Dialogue during the first half is a little too stilted and repetitive, some scenes feel redundant, and there's a little too much A to B filler in the middle (not a good sign for a writer, I'm afraid). But the basics are there, the narrative structure is very solid and without major holes, and the thematic punch it builds straight from the beginning is delivered in splendid fashion, leaving you with the kind of aftertaste that only good shows can bring you. Now, if simple, expertly crafted and well meaning shows like this became the norm, then you could finally start feeling like those dramas truly belonged to us, not to a bunch of self-serving sharks in tuxedo pushing the same old tactics. After all, from mid-Joseon to contemporary Korea, the more things change....



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