The Joseon Dynasty palace is divided into parts, like the chambers of a heart. One part belongs to the women. (Gungnyeo, meaning “palace woman”, is the Korean title of the film). Sworn into secrecy, submission, and celibacy, the women of the palace officially devote their lives to the well-being of the king and his young heir. Behind closed doors, of course, the dynamics are much more complicated.
Shadows In The Palace is the debut work of Kim Mee-jeung, who worked on the crew of King And the Clown (2005) and Once Upon A Time Iin A Battlefield (2003). Shooting on a comparatively low budget using pre-existing sets from King And The Clown and other films (not that you can tell: the imagery is dazzling), the film can be considered a fusion of genres: part costume drama, part mystery, part J-Horror.
Keeping track of all the names and plot twists is a challenge, but here is a plot summary: the king (who rarely appears onscreen) has no heir by his queen, however a royal concubine Heebin has given birth to a son. The queen mother is pushing to have the child officially adopted by the queen, but Heebin resists, correctly sensing that she could be easily disposed of after the adoption. Amidst this tense standoff, Heebin's most trusted maid is found dead, a suicide. Or was it? Chun-ryung, a royal medic, discovers that she was actually strangled. What's more, there are signs that the maid had given birth at some time in the past, which would have been absolutely forbidden under palace rules. Ignoring orders to wrap up the case quietly, Chun-ryung sets off in search of answers.
Apart from its cast full of women, Shadows also has a female director, producer, and executive producer. However viewers expecting a kinder, gentler movie are due for an uncomfortable surprise - the film contains medieval cruelty to rival any of its genre contemporaries, including pulled fingernails, needles in flesh, and severed hands. The violence reflects the cruelty of a system where the women and their bodies are mere cogs in a wheel. The psychological toll can be seen on the women's faces - even those who manage to claw their way to the top.
The diverse cast, most of whom are well-known but not stars in Korea, contain an equally wide spectrum of performances. Most prominent is Park Jin-hee (Love Talk) in the lead role of Chun-ryung. I'm a fan of Park's straightforward, accessible style, though here she may have been miscast. Chun-ryung's internal drive - her need to know the truth at any cost - is the film's narrative engine, but here it's not quite convincing. Still, many of the other performances are quite effective, especially Kim Seong-ryeong as a fearsome supervisor who has adopted completely the ruthless strictures of palace discipline.
Shadows moves at a fast clip, and as it progresses towards its conclusion, the fantasy/horror elements that were lurking in the corners begin to move out into the open. At the same time, though, the film's broader themes regarding oppression and power begin to come into focus. We've been led to believe that the strict set of rules which govern the palace are an insurmountable force, but events may tell us otherwise.
It may not be possible to ever completely understand what life was like for people who lived in centuries past, given the lack of records and the vast cultural gap between our age and theirs. Films set in the past usually end up telling us more about contemporary society than about the era on the screen. But is there anything wrong with that? More than anything, it's the conceptual energy and narrative momentum of Shadows that makes it one of the year's most exciting Korean films.
Darcy Paquet