Having been teaching Korean and
Japanese history at a wonderful American public university for more than 25
years, I have always been meaning to put up a series of discussions regarding
representation of history in Korean and Japanese cinema. Those who have been following
my Q Branch blog know that many of my reviews of the Korean and Japanese films
have engaged with the question of whether they could serve as good educational
texts for my students interested in learning about Korean and Japanese histories.
With this entry, I seek to launch a new
series of interviews with some real academic experts on Korean history and
culture that go beyond the usual hair-splitting exercises on how “accurately” a
particular work of New Korean Cinema reflects Korean history and culture. The recent controversy regarding the hybrid-genre
TV drama Joseon Exorcist [Joseon Gumasa, hereafter JE] which was
abruptly cancelled by its home station, SBS, in March 2021 after airing only
two episodes, I believe provides an entry point for tackling the complex
question of the representation of history in New Korean Cinema.
The first
expert who had graciously agreed to an interview despite his busy schedule is Professor
Ki Kyoung-ryang, Assistant Professor of Korean History at the Catholic
University of Korea. He received his Ph.
D. in Korean history, specializing in ancient period, from Seoul National
University in 2017, and is currently conducting research on the castle-towns of
Goguryeo kingdom. Professor Ki has
always been interested in the close communication between professional
historians and the general public: he is a regular panelist in the podcast
group Maninmansaek Yeoksagongjakdan and has been one of the vocal critics
of the chauvinistic pseudo-histories that have gained a good deal of popularity
over the years.
This interview was conducted on June 20,
2021, through Zoom. It has been edited and
somewhat shortened for clarity and economy. However, I have done my best to
capture the actual flavor of the exchange we have had throughout this highly
informative session. The contents of this interview are copyrighted to
Professor Ki Kyoung-ryang and Koreanfilm.org.
Any citation or reproduction without an explicit permission of Professor
Ki is forbidden and will be regarded as a breach of copyright laws as defined
by the United States and South Korean courts. “Q” refers to Kyu Hyun Kim and “K” refers to
Professor Ki Kyoung-ryang in the subsequent text.
Q: Thank you so much for agreeing to this interview despite
your busy schedule! I found your writings regarding the convoluted and complex relationship
between historical studies as an academic discipline and popular cultural
presentation of Korean history extremely illuminating. Your latest reflections on this issue were spurred
by the abrupt cancellation of the TV drama due to the public outcry that it was
“historically distorting” (waegok 歪曲) and subservient
to the Chinese interests. I thought this unfortunate incident would mark an
interesting occasion to examine this issue of the relationship between history
and popular culture in the context of Korean cinema and TV dramas. Do you think
the criticisms levelled at the drama were typical or somewhat unique?
K: It is
somewhat unique in the sense that this reflects a very recent trend. First, it
was assumed that JE was reflecting the ideology behind the so-called Northeast Project (東北工程, short for Research Project on the History and Current
State of the Northeast Borderlands, originally slated as a five-year plan between
2003 and 2007). This project has angered
many Koreans for its perceived treatment of Goguryeo, Pohai and other regions that
Koreans consider as a part of their history as Northeastern borderlands of
China. Throughout the subsequent decade, the Northeast Project has become a
shorthand for Chinese arrogance and imperialistic intent among many Koreans. In
truth, there is hardly any content in JE that explicitly promoted the Northeast
Project. However, the hostility directed
at Chinese “appropriation” of Korean history, and in fact the underlying anger
toward the imperialistic condescension implied in such behavior, happened to
find a powerful vent through this episode.
One of the most controversial scenes set in an Euiju inn featured Korean characters eating what appeared to be
Chinese food presented as “Korean” in a rather barbaric, brusque manner,
provoking some viewers to see this as both misrepresentation of Korean culture
as well as sly infiltration of Chinese-ness into a popular cultural product clearly
set in Korea.
Q: Generation
gap may be a factor in this turn of events, don’t you think?
K: That certainly
seems to be one of the reasons. The older generation probably does not quite
understand how young South Koreans— those under 30s— take strong pride in the
global success of their popular culture. And many among the latter are
intensely aware how some Chinese pop cultural products seem to “copy” Koreans.
 |
| An official poster for Joseon Exorcist. |
Q: That is precisely
the kind of behavior that Korean pop culture industry shamelessly used to
indulge in three to four decades ago with Japanese pop culture. Comic books, TV
variety shows…
K: Absolutely. Of
course, Japan used to wholesale “copy” Hollywood and American pop culture, especially immediately after losing the Pacific War. The difference perhaps is that Chinese government, if
not Chinese people, considers itself a “big nation” and many Koreans, who, like
many other citizens of today’s world, tend to see the nations in terms of a
hierarchical order, with Republic of Korea now at least in terms of affluence
and cultural sophistication “ahead” of China, take a strong umbrage at this
behavior. There was in fact a Korean TV
drama titled Mr. Queen [哲仁王后, 2020], which
if I remember correctly was moderately successful. However, there was some criticism of the
drama at that time, because it was based on a Chinese source novel. Its writer subsequently wrote JE and the critics
quickly found a connection. The station
released an explanation that Chinese capital was not involved in producing the latter
TV drama, but it was wholly inadequate in stemming the negative tide.
K: I think it is
different. The latter tends to be tied to
the issue of resolving the painful history of colonial experience. In contrast,
the issue with JE is connected, I think, to the recent global success of the
Korean popular culture and its incommensurability with what Koreans perceive as
“hegemonic” behavior of the Chinese government as well as some among the
Chinese population. In any case, the TV drama was more of a symbolic item,
functioning as a lightning rod that attracted the powerful electric charge
building up in the storm cloud of negative public opinion for some years.
Q: Most
interesting. Things have indeed shifted
greatly since the times in which I had grown up in Seoul. Can we expand the scope
of the discussion a bit, and inquire your opinions about the relationship
between historical dramas (sageuk) and history as studied by academic
historians as reflected in Korean cinema (and TV dramas) in the last decade and
a half or so?
K: Broadly
speaking, they have become more beautiful to look at, more aesthetically pleasing,
better designed and materially better endowed.
Recent TV dramas appear to evince a stronger trend of moving away from the
“realistic recreation of the past” model, mixing in deliberate anachronisms,
fantastic elements and so on. But this trend is also discernible among
theatrical feature films. Also the more successful TV dramas like Daejanggeum
[Jewel in the Palace, 2003], I think, show a greater level of creative reinterpretation,
rather than following conventional stories that every Korean knows already.
K: I actually
enjoyed it a lot. The drama focused on
the everyday details of Joseon dynasty folks and upped the ante in terms of
aesthetic quality. Of course, many of
the details took creative license with historical studies had so far revealed
about the life in early Joseon dynasty, beginning with some of the impossibly appetizing
cuisine that Janggeum and other members of the royal kitchen staff come up with
in the show, which more often than not reflect our modern conception of the
Joseon dynasty “great food” than the historical reality. But what was really significant about Daejanggeum
was, in my view, its characters and narrative were far more important than “history:”
Korean history served as a background, neither its theme nor its raison d’etre.
Watching the drama, or other ones like it, while superbly entertaining and even
moving, does not necessarily give us new insights or understandings of the
past.
K: Well, to be
honest, I sort of disagree with some of my colleagues, professional historians,
who tend to believe that “accurate recreation of the past” is the reason why we
make and watch historical dramas. It might
be a bit strange coming from a historian [Laughter] but I do not believe “history”
has to at all times take priority over “literature” or other forms of creative
endeavor. Having said that, I do find
the obvious tampering of well-known historical facts to score some plot points,
or to emphasize a particular character’s villainous qualities, rather less
effective or problematic.
Q: I wholeheartedly agree. I previously wrote
about Lee Jun-ik’s Blades of Blood (2010) messing with the chronology of
Joseon dynasty history, just to grind the director’s axe aimed at King Seonjo
(r. d. 1567-1608) as a failed monarch. I have been complaining for some time about
“presentism” in many Korean sageuk, using historical figures as
shorthand projections of contemporary political figures, which at worst could
be a form of disrespect for the historical personages. In addition, the producers and writers of
these movies and TV dramas seldom draw upon what I actually think are really “dramatic,”
interesting and intriguing stories, utterances and events in the existing
historical sources, even from the often-relied-upon Joseon wangjo sillok
(Real Records of the Joseon Dynasty).
K: I remember one of my junior colleagues who had
spent considerable time digging up the more historically authentic cultural
representations, such as dress designs, for a TV drama (which shall remain nameless
here: let’s just stay it was set in Three Kingdoms Period) for which he was a
consultant. In the end, he had to ask for his credit removed because his painstaking
work was virtually ignored. He was in essence told that his more authentic
findings were “not attractive or magnificent enough.”
Q: Can we talk
about negative and positive recent examples among the sageuk, for now
confining ourselves to feature films?
K: Oh boy.
[Laughter] You mentioned that you thought rather positively of Kim Han-min’s War
of the Arrows (2011). Let’s say I cannot
say the same thing about his far more commercially successful next effort, The
Admiral: Roaring Currents (2014).
However, Lee Joon-ik’s The Throne (2015) I can cite as one of the
more positive recent examples. I think the
latter film successfully evaded the popular conception of Prince Sado as a
tragic victim of the court intrigue and attempted to capture complexities of
his character based on actual historical records, illuminating in the process some
of the less-than-generous qualities of Yeongjo’ behavior as his father and
other aspects of its supposedly well-known characters and events.
Roaring Currents, on the other hand,
fails to present any fresh insight or interpretation regarding its central protagonist,
Admiral Yi Sun-sin (1545-1598), not to say Choi Min-shik playing the general
did not do a great job. Presenting Admiral
Yi as some kind of “democratic” or “populist” hero was possibly one of the
reasons the film appealed so much to the contemporary Korean moviegoers. However, aside from this almost pandering
attitude toward the ticket buyers, the film was in my view not much different
from the kind of nationalist biopic produced during the military dictatorships.
Q: Having been a
practicing historian of Japan for nearly thirty years, I was bothered by its shallow
and stereotypical characterization of Japanese enemies, although this is more or
less par for the course in Korean popular culture.
K: Right, there
is a long Korean tradition of popular cultural representation of Admiral Yi, in
which he is always exalted for being a great general, strategist, et cetera,
by his Japanese enemies. However, having
said all this, I do acknowledge that there are few recent Korean sageuk
movies set in the ancient, medieval or early modern periods that are as flagrantly
bad as, say, some of the more obstreperously political “historical” films set
in the modern period, such as Operation Chromite (2016). Most of them seem to reach a certain level of
competency these days, at least in terms of their production qualities.
Q: Is there a particular subject, topic or figure in the entirety of Korean history you feel has been neglected or inadequately treated by Korean cinema?
K: Hmm. Nothing specific comes to my mind at this moment…
however, I will say that Goryeo period has relatively been neglected, in
comparison to the ancient (Three Kingdoms, Unified Silla) and early modern
(Joseon) periods. For Joseon period, of
course, there are bountiful historical sources. Plus, it is easier for the producers
to materially reconstruct the period details. The ancient periods could be rendered
with the narratives centered on the wars and national conflicts. During the Goryeo period, the Military Rule (1170-1270)
era has so far received a lion’s share of attention, but among professional
historians, the late Goryeo period under the Mongol [Yuan] Empire’s domination
(approximately 1259-1356) is being cast in a new light. In these studies, the Goryeo
regime “intervened” by the Yuan empire is reinterpreted not as a weak state completely
under the thumb of the powerful Mongol suzerain but as a dynamic subject both
influencing and influenced by the greater changes in Asia. Having said this, I do not know if Korean
moviegoing public is ready to accept a movie that truthfully explores the
complex hybrid reality of late Goryeo dynasty.
 |
| A portrait of King Gongmin, one of the later Goryeo kings and his Mongol wife, Queen Noguk, a.k.a. Borjigin Budasiri. |
Q:What do you think about my question that too many
Korean sageuk films and TV dramas focus on kings, good or bad?
K: I think the interest in royal family might not easily
abate, but the more recent producers and viewers appear to be more interested
in princes than kings.
K: The princes
are figures of possibility rather than establishment and serve as better identification
figures especially for the younger generations of viewers. I also think that it is to a certain extent
inevitable that the public prefers to watch films and TV dramas featuring
pageantry and pomp of the royal personages, an opulent and luxury-filled world far
removed from their everyday lives, than those set in more mundane settings. Just
like the way a good deal of modern-day-set Korean TV dramas take place among
the chaebol super-rich!
Q: My wish is
that one day we could see a Korean film set in, say, Goryeo period and a viewer
reaction would be “What the heck? How could this be Goryeo? This looks like a
foreign country, not Korea!” And the filmmaker would respond, “You are
absolutely right. The movie is set in a foreign country called Goryeo, not in
Korea.”[Laughter]
K: I am actually
rather optimistic about the prospect of eventually witnessing a genuinely
challenging cinematic sageuk, that, as you put it, renders the (mistakenly)
familiar into the (truthfully) unfamiliar again. Even regarding the ever-problematic superficial
obsession on material details, as the example of the so-called “Korean hat”
becoming widely popular among the non-Korean viewers due to the Netflix zombie sageuk
series Kingdom (2019-2020) demonstrates, getting these details “right”
could pay off with unexpected dividends.
Q: I agree! I only wish the producers and filmmakers
understand that you don’t really need to invent a zombie epidemic (not that
such an effort is not worthwhile) to tell interesting and compelling stories or
portray amazingly fascinating characters set in the distant Korean past, that “real”
history has an ample supply of these and more.
Q: Well,
regrettably we have come to the finishing line. Any final thoughts?
K: I hope that
more open and friendly channels of communication between academic historians
and the creative people come into being, instead of the latter only consulting
the former to maintain their baseline of “factual correctness,” which are often
ignored anyway in the end, or the former viewing the creative products only to
nitpick about how the latter got everything wrong. We can probably help each other a lot more
than we currently do, to the ultimate benefit of the Korean film industry.
K: You are so
very welcome.
