03/09/2021

D. P. - Season 1 (2021)

D.P.
Netflix / 2021 / 6 episodes
Genre: drama
Written by Han Jun-hee, Kim Bo-tong
Directed by Han Jun-hee
More information: Wikipedia / HanCinema



The Military's Hidden Scars:
A Review of "D.P." Season 1





The Netflix original series is based on the webtoon D.P. Dog’s Day. Its author, Kim Bo-tong, participated in writing the screenplay alongside Han Jun-hee, who also directed the series.

The abbreviation "D.P." in the title stands for "Deserter Pursuit." The drama focuses on violence within the military and the work of a specialized unit dedicated to capturing deserters. Since South Korea mandates military service for all men, the creators have truly touched a nerve with this topic. While neither the abuse nor the fact of desertion is a secret—and we have seen glimpses of them in films before—it is a bold undertaking for a series to focus exclusively on these issues. This is a sensitive subject for the Ministry of Defense, which protects the "honor of the uniform," but it is even more vital for every Korean man, as many have already experienced the reality of military life, while others will soon have to face it. It is no surprise, then, that the series immediately shot to the top of domestic viewership and reached the Top 10 in most countries across Asia.

With this series, Netflix has generated a unique situation: the sensitive topic of conscription and military internal relations are considered strictly domestic South Korean affairs, the open discussion of which remains a flashpoint even within the country. Now, not only has this difficult theme been brought into focus by a foreign producer, but through its global release, it has been placed at the center of worldwide attention. This could arguably be considered a milestone in media history.

At the center of the drama stands a newly enlisted soldier, Ahn Joon-ho (Jung Hae-in), who is assigned to the D.P. unit following five weeks of basic training. We get a taste of the miseries of training, but the real hell begins afterward, as recruits face constant harassment from those above them in the internal hierarchy. This is expected to last until the end of their mandatory service, and eighteen to twenty-four months feels like an eternity. The unit includes a particularly aggressive figure, Hwang Jang-soo (Shin Seung-ho), who feels that under the aegis of the military, he can act with impunity. He keeps the recruits, including Ahn, under constant psychological terror. He also practices physical abuse of such refined cruelty that it directly endangers the lives of the young soldiers. This cold reality stands in sharp contrast to the text of the unit’s oath, which speaks of justice and the protection of soldiers' rights.

We also learn several important things about Ahn’s civilian personality. He is not the timid type; he is capable of standing up for what is right and taking creative revenge if someone tries to cheat him. He supports his family financially, though he is emotionally distant from them. His violent father has abused his mother for a long time, and she is unable to escape him. Ahn gave up boxing specifically because he did not want to become like his father.

Desertions occur regularly in the army, and soldiers from the unit, working in pairs, are sent to capture them. A vacancy opens in one of these positions, which Ahn wins with a bit of luck. This assignment comes with the extraordinary advantage of being allowed to leave the barracks in civilian clothes during investigations.

From this point on, the drama presents various cases in which Ahn and his partner participate. In each instance, we learn the motives behind the soldiers' flight. We see the methods used to track them down. Meanwhile, power struggles among military leaders and positional battles between different units are revealed. We witness that even among the leadership, it is not uncommon for higher-ranking officers to slap their subordinates, and we encounter fanatics who wish to wage war even in times of peace. Often, the leaders themselves struggle with their own consciences, which is also portrayed.

Since the fact of desertion does not reflect well on the army’s reputation, the unit tries to resolve the capture of deserters within its own jurisdiction, excluding the possibility of the civilian police and the media becoming aware of the cases. At the same time, they are all aware that the fugitives themselves are often victims of the army’s internal conditions. Therefore, by capturing them, they must also prevent them from harming themselves or others in their desperation.

Ahn’s first partner is an unscrupulous and irresponsible character who interprets "leave" as an opportunity to throw himself into the pleasures of partying. Because of this, however, he fails to find a deserting soldier in time, who then commits suicide. Ahn is deeply shaken by the incident and blames himself for his fellow soldier’s death.

Fortunately, for the next mission, he receives a new partner (played by Koo Kyo-hwan), with whom he finds a mutual understanding, forming a great duo. Their work requires not only intuition and creativity but also courage, as the missions are not without danger. The reasons for soldiers deserting are varied, and accordingly, it is sometimes easier and sometimes harder to "rush to their aid"—even if the situation gives a peculiar meaning to that phrase. The cases in the drama range from lighter to heavier, until the sixth episode reaches an escalation of the problem through the story of a soldier who completely snaps.

The atmosphere and pace of the series are extremely interesting. It is restrained, even a bit slow at first, but never boring. Rather, it very skillfully creates the feeling that all these things are present almost imperceptibly in our everyday lives.

The short first season, consisting of only six episodes, ends with a shocking cliffhanger: as a result of the events, Ahn reaches a terminal resolution, while another abused soldier takes the retribution for his grievances into his own hands.

The continuation of this recently released series depends on viewer interest, which will hopefully not be an obstacle to the production of a further season. We eagerly await the sequel.


























02/09/2021

BOYS OVER FLOWERS (2009)

꽃보다 남자
KBS / 2009 / 25 episodes
Genre: drama
Written by Yoon Ji-ryeon
Directed by Jeon Ki-sang
More information: Wikipedia / HanCinema



WARNING: SPOILER ALERT!
This review contains detailed discussions of key plot twists and the ending.
If you haven't seen the series yet and wish to experience it with fresh eyes,
we recommend reading this article only after watching.



Boys Over Flowers:
A Critique of Polished Cruelty






Boys Over Flowers is one of those Korean series whose immense domestic and international success is difficult to interpret based on the dubious moral value system contained within. There are surely more exact explanations for this phenomenon, but I can only think of two possibilities: one is that for the viewers, the world shown in the drama coincides with their familiar reality, and thus, in the absence of differing experiences, they do not question it—the other is that the majority of viewers only consume the surface story of the dramas, satisfied by the sight of beautiful actors, rejoicing and weeping with them, but not truly thinking deeply about what they see.

However, I must immediately modify the above slightly, as this series is an adaptation of a Japanese manga; therefore, what is seen in the drama is neither an original nor a Korean intellectual product. Yoko Kamio's manga of the same title (Hana Yori Dango) was published in 1992 and has since seen numerous different adaptations (film, anime, TV series, musical), not only in Japan but in many countries across Asia. The Korean version, riding the waves of the Hallyu, has perhaps become better known than other adaptations.

Thus, based on the aforementioned story, writer Yoon Ji-ryeon crafted the screenplay for the drama placed in a Korean setting, which became her first filmed work. Alongside the romantic love story, it is simultaneously a school drama and a coming-of-age story about the friendship of four boys.

Since this is one of the most famous Korean dramas, I take knowledge of its plot as a given and aim only to point out those critical points that the drama contains, either overtly or covertly. Naturally, this also means that the twists of the drama are discussed openly, so I ask anyone wishing to experience the series as a completely new experience to take this into account.

The Opening Move

How does Jan-di end up in the most elite school of the elite? After saving the life of a bullied student about to commit suicide, the leader of the conglomerate operating the institution offers the girl a scholarship in an attempt to silence those protesting against the school's privileges. It is perhaps clear to everyone that according to democratic values, this is nothing other than pure social corruption, yet no one has any objection to it; moreover, once this happens, it seems the order of the world is restored. A small moment that can be interpreted as a simple writer's solution, as the protagonist must somehow be gotten into the school, but it is quite telling that the drama itself draws attention to the acceptance of this mindset.

How does the girl's working-class family receive the opportunity? With explosive joy, forcing their child—who wants to resist—to exploit the sudden opportunity without reservation. Thus, we see that while on a communal level (protests, media investigations) solidarity works in defense of the democratic legal order, on an individual level, the dictate of the wealthy is fulfilled without criticism: everything is purchasable, as the sole goal of the lower social classes' aspirations is to get as close as possible to the elite.

School Bullying

As in every closed community, the high school maintained by the Shinhwa group has developed its own internal rules created by the students, which are often quite cruel. Since the students here could only draw their models from what they saw in their aristocratic environment, their order is also dominated by status and appearances. Accordingly, the life of the school community is directed by four boys from the wealthiest families, who are also above average in appearance, hence their name "Flower 4" (F4). They are truly masters of life and death; whoever receives the "red card" from them, marking them as targets, must face the varied cruelties of the students who blindly follow the F4. Never is any sign shown in the drama that the school leadership makes even the slightest effort to curb this practice; on the contrary, it turns out that, fearing for their jobs, they turn a blind eye to all arbitrary acts.

The series begins with a scene of a boy driven to suicide, which—according to school customs—would seemingly be fine if Jan-di, from the common folk, did not accidentally intervene. Subsequently, we see that the students, whether boys or girls, idolize the four flower boys, and sometimes delighting in abuse that endangers the lives of the targets, they try to outdo one another to earn their attention and recognition. We even see examples where they far exceed the orders of the F4 leader.



Although it seems that of the four, only the ringleader personally commits acts of violence or devises various ways to instruct the students moved as puppets, the other three boys cannot be exonerated either. As members of the leader's closest court, they only amuse themselves with the events with a stoic smile. Although they sometimes note among themselves that they do not agree with him in everything, until the troublemaking girl appears in the school's life, they do nothing against the order they created and represent. Thus, they sanctify every villainy—in fact, the idea for the first red card to be placed on Jan-di comes from one of them. This, however, strongly calls into question how they can subsequently become positive characters without any particular transition.

How does the drama portray Jan-di's family?

Since Jan-di's unique story also carries the general content of the meeting between the aristocracy and the common people, the depiction of Jan-di's family also represents a kind of generalization of how the working class, the lower social stratum, appears in the mirror of the drama. I emphasize in the mirror of the drama, because we never see this family through the eyes of the rich, but rather characteristics of their lives appear before us in independent scenes. The life of the family operating a small laundry business is a daily struggle for survival. They work day and night, struggling in the trap of debt; the head of the family hopes for change by trusting in lottery winnings. However, the downward slide is inevitable; they cannot repay the loans, they are forced to give up their business, then their apartment, and move to the countryside—at the cost of breaking up the family—to a place offering the most modest livelihood so they can continue to ensure their children's education.

In the events, we don't truly see the family members individualized; we mainly get to know the dreamworld of the mother, who sees the possibility of reversing their situation in their daughter's advantageous marriage, and in this hope, she silences everyone in the family with loud and aggressive behavior. Of course, she meets little resistance, as they are all easily blinded by the smallest shred of hope. Moreover, they are even irresponsible; the mother immediately begins to put on airs, showing off before her acquaintances—her peers in fate—from whom she takes out further loans without thinking. How is this possible? Because they almost voluntarily foist them upon her, since according to the drama, no one is different from them. In their environment, everyone hopes that the appearance of the aristocratic fops will indirectly promise profit for them as well. Even Jan-di's friend says dreamily that all her wishes would be fulfilled if she could see the flower boys up close. The family's poverty is not, but their greed is, dreadfully repulsive. The girl, prepared to apologize, is welcomed home with a celebration after spending the entire night alone with an unknown boy—for what does the girl's integrity matter if the young man is the heir to the Shinhwa group, who has already bribed them with a quintal of used clothes. Even toward the end of the series, we see that the family, again in debt at their rural home, is saved by one of the pretty boys, from whom they accept help with gratitude, even though by then one thing and another has already happened in the relationship between their daughter and the F4.



If we were to place them among the characters of Korean series, the family members represent the comic figures. They react with loud stupidity and always fall into exaggerations, jumping and moving together like puppets (let us recall how they constantly line up hopefully at the front door if the rich boy's appearance is expected at the doorbell). This time, too, the drama cliché is not missing from the sequence of family scenes: the rush and murderous struggle for discounted products.

At a single point, they try to oppose the world of the powerful: when Joon-pyo's mother offers them money so that Jan-di stays away from her son. Their pride, however, is easily broken: the money suitcases wander back to them, as they must humble themselves before the evil woman who seeks the head of the family's life. Jan-di's mother would still go for the money even then; the otherwise spineless father understands his daughter's feelings better and, exerting himself, decides to return the money. All this was clearly written this way to convey the defenselessness of the "little people," to show their complete lack of chance. From that perspective, however, this portrayal turns back on itself: even if all the sources of joy that characterize the life of an average, normal family are present in their home, overall, the presentation of this family does not strive for sympathy and certainly does not seem like a more attractive model compared to the cold, family-deficient life of the aristocrats. This caricatured presentation of struggles and poverty is not only hurtful but also not constructive as a background for Jan-di in the drama. Does it not create a sense of falseness in viewers that a filthy rich man-of-the-world finds a sense of "home" in precisely such a family?

How far does Jan-di's courage extend?

Jan-di, arriving from the world of everyday workers, previously earned a nickname for herself: she was called "Strong Jan-di" due to her developed sense of justice. How this trait of hers lives on in the new environment is precisely shown by the drama. Naturally, the girl feels like Alice in Wonderland, so it is no wonder that she initially loses her sense of security and orientation slightly.

The F4's introduction to her occurs through the humiliation (pouring juice over him) of a randomly chosen boy among the students, which triggers anger in her, but she shouts this out only in solitude. She tolerates being looked down upon for the lunch brought from home. She concludes that it will be best if she keeps a low profile until graduation. The next atrocity, although not directed at her (the girl carrying the cake), still makes her angry, but she only gives the F4 a piece of her mind in her imagination; in reality, she cowers, for which Ji-hoo even mocks her. The ice cream conflict is the first sharp encounter when she finally hurls her opinion into the face of Joon-pyo, who asks for vile compensation, the retaliation for which is the placement of the red card. From then on, "Strong Jan-di" silently bears a series of humiliations, which even includes an attempted rape. Her patience ends when they start spreading rumors that she is pregnant; at that point, she kicks Joon-pyo's head. Since the conceited fellow has never encountered such a thing, he can only interpret it as a sign that the girl is interested in him, so he has her taken to his house, where he beautifies her and offers that she can be his girlfriend outside of school (i.e., in secret). Although Jan-di rejects it, from then on, the girl's entry into the F4's circle begins. Although Joon-pyo continues to provoke the girl daily, laughing idiocratically at annoying her, we soon find them in common company at two parties: at the first, Jan-di saves the boy—who cannot swim—after he falls into the pool; at the second, Joon-pyo rescues the girl from an embarrassing situation, as a result of which, after some drinking, Jan-di wakes up in the F4 leader's bedroom.

At this point, the drama shifts dimensions, moving to the eventful story of Jan-di and Joon-pyo's love, and we get to know the flower boys more deeply. As if the previous abuses never existed, Jan-di takes the F4 members into her confidence; they have all suddenly improved, and subsequently, we find no trace of what scoundrels they actually were.

The F4

But who are these boys really? We already know they are the scions of the wealthiest families in the elite school, about whom it turns out they have received extremely varied training outside of school education as well. They all seem cultured and informed; even the gangster-offspring boy is no different from them. Joon-pyo holds his own in martial arts just as well as in his mother's business world. Ji-hoo and I-jeong are talented and sensitive young men blessed with an artistic vein—the former a musician, the latter a ceramicist. It is a detail, but still thought-provoking to me regarding the characters of these two boys: how their complicity in cruelties fit with their sophisticated, artistic souls in the minds of the story's writers. We certainly know of vile artists, but this is still another oddity.

Just as it is that despite all their good qualities and abilities, they can only devise for themselves to play "golden boys" who drive women mad, naturally viewing the girls only as single-use objects—and there are plenty in their environment who would voluntarily offer themselves as prey to be hunted. Since this is common knowledge about them, we have again reached a characteristic that we would clearly think should repel, or at least caution, Jan-di, if the violence were not enough.

The F4 members' other traits and the background to the above will be discussed further.




Jan-di and Joon-pyo's Love

The interest between the two young people clearly began on the boy's part, triggered partly by his vanity and partly by his curiosity about the "unknown" represented by the girl. He launches the assault even when he is aware of the girl's feelings for Ji-hoo, which only fans his jealousy; however, at first, we do not perceive real emotions, only that he wants to get what he has singled out for himself.

The boy is always the initiator, who breaks into the girl's life quite aggressively and wants to shape everything in his own image. Without asking, he replaces the furniture in the girl's home and drags her along on a luxury vacation—naturally, only after he has shaped her into a socially acceptable appearance. The drama beautifully depicts the learning process Joon-pyo goes through while gaining more insight into the girl's life. Alongside love, he also gets to know many feelings that were always missing from his own wealthy but cold life. However, Joon-pyo also decides unilaterally to deny love, and no matter how much they want to show his suffering, he is saved from a marriage of convenience only by the brave prospective wife.

Since it is a romantic story, let us believe that their feelings are pure, deep, and mutual. Jan-di also understands the boy's emotional world more deeply; however, she fumbles throughout, for which the social chasm between them is no excuse. A few times, she also hurts Joon-pyo with incomprehensible rudeness or indifference. Apart from a few fighting stances, the girl passively accepts and endures everything directed at her. The drama pushes for us to see this enervation as steadfast love, but it is still strange that Jan-di reciprocates almost nothing to Joon-pyo; it is no coincidence that she regularly loses the boy's most personal gifts.

She can be pulled like a puppet: if she is invited somewhere, she goes; if she is appointed a friend, she becomes a friend; if she is hurt, she only becomes saddened—she would never dream of protesting against anything. The rich, whether women or men, benefactors or enemies, pull her throughout at their whim according to their own goals. Toward the end of the drama, she gets involved in increasingly incomprehensible situations. Even an invitation does not justify why she participates in Joon-pyo's birthday celebration, even if precisely in this situation we can see Jan-di's only scene where it is believable that she has deep feelings and Joon-pyo could truly fall in love with her. The way she sings the song is painfully beautiful. The only problem is that it is as if we were seeing another character, not the girl we got to know in the drama. Soon, the most unacceptable twist follows, which is dreadfully annoying from the story's writers, as no normal person can find Jan-di's stint as a maid in Joon-pyo's home funny. With this step, they manage to completely undermine Jan-di's character; afterward, the icing on the cake is how cruelly she pushes the boy away, lecturing him that she never saw anything in him but a plutocrat. Of course, this is no more than a drama cliché, just like the way Joon-pyo eventually runs like a madman to pick up the love of his life from the fish market and propose to his little Cinderella on the beach.

Although the essence of the story should be for us to experience the elemental love of the two protagonists that overcomes every obstacle, no matter how great and cruel, the drama can only partially fulfill this mission.




The Flower Boys

The drama's secret weapon is the vivid presentation of the flower boys' individual stories, which are just as much coming-of-age experiences as those lived by the main protagonists. A common feature of the boys is that they all suffer from their first romantic disappointment, and due to the bitter experience, they only dare to embark on superficial adventures. Since they have money to burn, they amuse themselves as playboys, fleeing from relationships that trigger real emotions. The F4's role regarding school violence has already been mentioned; neither that nor this superficial hedonism would make them sympathetic. But the drama helps us see behind the scenes and get to know their true, though quite idealized, nature. Deviating slightly from the F4's characteristics, we find that they are actually gentle and fine-souled characters living in a huge emotional void. They are full of psychological wounds, pain, and even suppressed rages. Parents are present almost nowhere, only the gaping emptiness of luxury houses in which they wander alone. It is no coincidence that they cling to each other, because their friendship is the only real value in their lives. These "poor rich people" can all hope for their redemption from average, everyday girls, as in them they recognize the deeper feelings that constitute their own deficiencies—the spiritual connections that naturally link people—so they turn toward them with fear but also with elemental interest.

From this perspective, Joon-pyo's attraction to Jan-di and the girl's family becomes particularly understandable. The drama manages to ensure that while we initially feel antipathy toward Joon-pyo based on his actions, he eventually wins our deep pity. A pathetic life was written for him, which we can only hope falls to no one's lot in reality. Scenes belonging to the spine-chilling version of humor show the little boy surrounded by an army of servants but completely abandoned, treated by his parents exclusively as the future head of the corporate empire. Joon-pyo's escape attempts are broken by physical violence, with bodyguards dragging the fugitive back; moreover, he is emotionally blackmailed with being responsible for the fate of hundreds of thousands of employees, and therefore he must follow his mother's dictates. The boy is actually nothing other than a prisoner kept in captivity in a luxury cell. However, an even more wretched situation is when he takes on the role inherited by him and, for the sake of conformity, suppresses within himself every joy of life he has known.






Wealthy Women

We also encounter four aristocratic female characters who have an influence on Jan-di's story. The strongest, but also the most one-dimensional, is Joon-pyo's mother (Lee Hye-young), who is the evil witch of the drama. Wherever she appears, there will be destruction, because she tramples over everything and everyone who gets in her way, including her own children; thus, Jan-di is not a factor for her. But as is usually the case, the simplest things get the better of her. In her own cold-headed world, she is an ice queen; however, unpurchasable, glowing feelings that cannot be handled with violence melt her power.



Jan-di also comes into contact with three young women, all of whom turn toward her with apparent goodwill. Each of them takes the poor girl under their wing and elevates her into their own world, into which the little gray sparrow—not fitting there by itself—must naturally first be integrated, so they dress her up. However, none of them connects to her without interest.

Seo-hyun (Han Chae-young) is actually a selfish woman who wants to shake Ji-hoo off, so when she senses the boy's attraction toward Jan-di, she entrusts her "love" to the girl's care, thereby divesting herself of the responsibility.

Jun-hee, Joon-pyo's sister (Kim Hyun-joo), is a skillful manipulator who ultimately helps the lovers, but she is fundamentally motivated by opposing her mother, so she never thinks about Jan-di's situation—let us just recall the birthday invitation.

Strangest is the behavior of Jae-kyung (Lee Min-jung), who met Jan-di spontaneously, so their friendship appears authentic. However, the girl with the boyish temperament aggressively uses Jan-di for her own pleasure even when the social chasm between the two of them, and Jan-di's feelings for Joon-pyo, become clear. She regards Jan-di as her friend while simultaneously humiliating her in every moment with her presence and emotional disclosures, although she apparently has no idea of this.



These women are all intelligent, elegant, stylish, and of refined taste. Interestingly, they all turn toward Jan-di for motives very similar to those of the flower boys. It has already been mentioned how incomprehensible Jan-di's voluntarily undertaken defenselessness toward them is, despite the circumstances and power relations.

Style Above All

The drama is not characterized by outstanding acting performances. This is true for the two lead actors as well, though not in equal measure. In the role of Joon-pyo, Lee Min-ho can excellently sway viewers between hating and loving the character and can break through the boy's arbitrary mask to show his true nature. Although he often gets into comic situations, he never becomes ridiculous; he is protected from this by his honesty and naivety, however strange that may sound regarding a loud-mouthed gang leader.

Ku Hye-sun's acting in the role of Jan-di is, for me, a complete misinterpretation of the character. I am surely not mistaken if, in the drama, the girl should not be particularly beautiful, but rather average in appearance, whose attraction lies in her peculiar charm. There is no fault with the average appearance; however, there is no trace of charm—instead, we get infinitely stupid facial expressions, repulsive grimaces paired with clumsy movement, and stomach-turning gorging, especially in situations where Jan-di's insecurity or negative feelings should be expressed. Sometimes she manages to flash a more attractive side, but Jan-di remains dreadfully clumsy and superficial throughout, becoming crestfallen rather than sad, and we hardly see her truly rejoice either. The crude portrayal likely indicates a lack of acting skills, and the credibility of the couple suffers for it.

The true power of the drama lies not in its story or the actors' performances, but interestingly, in its externals. Primarily in the appearance and lifestyle of the "flower boys," with which they could provide an attractive example for well-to-do, mostly single urban men seeking their identity. Metrosexuality emerged as a world phenomenon in the 2000s, but in Asia, its expansion took place rooted in its own origins as well. The model of men who give much to their sophisticated sexual charisma, physical conditioning, grooming, and style became attractive not only for young men but also answered the needs of emancipated women. Boys Over Flowers showed in its full beauty this spiritually richer and more sensitive male ideal, more selective in its appearance, which was perfectly embodied by each of the flower boys seen in the drama (Lee Min-ho, Kim Hyun-joong, Kim Bum, Kim Joon).