After the boom (2004-2006) and the bust (2007- 2008), where does Korean cinema stand? After an extended period of more or less constant change and upheaval in the film industry, the past two years have been pretty stable by comparison. And amidst this relative calm, a new status quo is emerging in the Korean film industry. The present environment may not be radically different from the situation that preceded it, but there are some important new developments that are affecting the character of the films being made. Taken as a whole, the annual output of Korean films in 2010 is noticeably different from that of 2006 or 2007.
This essay is an overview of the state of Korean cinema over the past 12 months. But before turning to the specifics of what has taken place, it might be useful to provide a summary of how today’s film industry differs from that of a few years ago. Here are some of the most influential developments.
The rise of low-budget filmmaking as a genuine second industry.
In the year 2004, only three Korean films with a budget of less than 1 billion won (US$900,000 at today’s exchange rates) were released in theaters. Mainstream producers never really considered making films in this budget range, believing them to have no commercial potential. However in 2010, no less than 73 films of this type were released — just over half of the 140 Korean films in total. These included a wide range of independent features, student films, political documentaries and other such specialist works. But among them were also many films aimed at mainstream audiences, such as the comedy My Dear Desperado which rode positive word-of-mouth to sell 700,000 tickets. The expansion of the low-budget film sector has come about thanks to lower-priced, high-quality film technology, and reform to the distribution sector that has allowed for more films to receive a release. At a lower budget, directors can (at least in theory, if not always in practice) experience more creative freedom than those making expensive mainstream projects. They rely on positive word-of-mouth, rather than a wide release and an expensive marketing campaign. Therefore, even the more mainstream of the low-budget films feel noticeably different from higher-budgeted works. Given the huge number of low-budget films being produced, and their distinctive character, it now makes sense to think of them as a kind of second film industry.
Big directors going international.
At the other end of the spectrum, the most famous of Korea’s commercial auteurs are setting their sights on global audiences. Although at the time of this writing many details about these projects have yet to be confirmed, it appears that the next films by Park Chan-wook, Bong Joon-ho and Kim Jee-woon will all be shot mostly or exclusively in English, with high-profile international stars taking the lead roles. This may be the year when this trio emerges as a sort of Korean counterpart to Mexico’s “Three Amigos” (Alfonso Cuarón, Guillermo Del Toro, and Alejandro Gonzalez Iñarritu). Although it seems likely that Park, Bong, and Kim will all continue to keep one foot planted in the Korean film industry, it’s still unclear how this will affect the local film sector, their future careers and general perceptions of Korean cinema.
From star power to high-tech.
These are confusing times for the Korean Wave.
Although the popularity of Korean singers abroad seems to have grown in recent years, things have arguably not gone so well for actors. These days it is no longer possible for a film with a major star to earn millions of dollars in sales to other Asian countries. Even in Korea, although stars are constantly in the news, their drawing power at the box office is in question. Many Korean stars such as Jun Ji-hyun and Lee Byung-hun have upped their profile by acting in Chinese or Hollywood films, but there have been no true breakout performances yet. Whereas five years ago many investors and industry people were focussed on star power, these days there seems to be more interest in Korea’s capabilities in film technology. Notably, in 2010 South Korea earned US$13.6 million in film exports (mostly to Asia and Europe), but US$28.6 million in film services such as CGI rendering, post-production work or 3-D conversion (mostly for Hollywood studios). Several high-profile Korean 3-D films are also in the pipeline, most notably CJ Entertainment’s Sector 7, scheduled for release this summer. The Korean Film Council has also been highly proactive in supporting the development of 3-D and other film technologies. Although star-centered projects continue to be made, films based on advanced special effects (following, one might say, in the footsteps of the 2009 hit Haeundae) are becoming more common.
Legal downloads make headway.
For many years, the big problem with Korean cinema’s economic model was that (like Hollywood in the 1970s), a film’s theatrical release accounted for almost all of its revenues. DVD, sadly, never found much of an audience in Korea, and television broadcasters have never played more than a minor role in the film industry. Therefore the success or failure of many films were dependent on major distributors and theatre chains, which did not provide a particularly level playing field. Now, however, opportunities are opening up in the realm of legal downloads. A host of competing services are now operational, and while precise figures aren’t available, major internet portals report surging revenues (for Daum.net, the 2010 sum was 600% that of 2009). About 95% of all new films are now being made available online in legal formats, compared to only 5% in 2008. And significantly, major web portals have adjusted their search results so that queries for film titles now turn up links to legal, rather than illegal, download sites. The typical price for a download is 3500 won (US$3), less than half the price of a movie ticket, but for low-budget films especially it can provide a meaningful source of income. With revenue from pay-per-view services on IPTV (Internet protocol TV) also doubling for each of the past few years, the situation for ancillary markets looks brighter than it has in some time, and that is good news for films that rely on word-of-mouth instead of big marketing campaigns.
2010 will probably be remembered as neither a particularly good nor a particularly bad year. On the festival circuit, Lee Chang-dong’s Poetry won the greatest accolades, taking home the best screenplay award from Cannes and receiving rave reviews from critics all around the world. Well known director Hong Sang-soo also turned out two films, with HaHaHa winning the Un Certain Regard section at Cannes and Oki’s Movie screening as the closing film in the Orizzonti section at Venice. Meanwhile, maverick director Im Sang-soo directed a self-described remake (in truth, more of a re-imagining) of the 1960 classic The Housemaid, which received mixed reviews upon its premiere at Cannes, but went on to sell widely around the world.
For more commercially-oriented films, the picture was not quite so rosy. In contrast to 2009, in which tsunami film Haeundae (11.3 million admissions) and sports drama Take Off (8.1 million) propelled the local box office, the highest grossing picture The Man from Nowhere topped out at 6.2 million tickets. The story of a former secret agent who emerges from his self-imposed isolation in order to rescue a neighbor’s daughter, The Man from Nowhere was a mid-sized film that succeeded beyond expectations through positive word-of-mouth and excitement over the film’s lead actor Won Bin. Star power may be on the wane in general, but this film proved to be a shining exception as Won emerged as one of the most charismatic action heroes in recent memory. Female audiences audibly swooned and gasped at Won’s godlike image, while numerous action scenes and some unexpectedly graphic violence attracted male viewers.
Released in August, The Man from Nowhere easily outperformed the two blockbuster-scale projects of the summer. Korean War film 71-Into the Fire was based on the true story of a group of high school students in 1950 who were armed and left to fend for themselves against the approaching North Korean army. Although the film impressed with its pyrotechnics, critics savaged the thinlydeveloped characters and stereotyped plot elements, and mainstream viewers were only slightly more supportive. The film ended with 3.3 million admissions, seen as disappointing considering its US$10 million-plus budget. Moss, a US$7 million-budgeted adaptation of a cult Korean comic book, turned in a virtually identical performance. Directed by industry heavyweight Kang Woo-suk, the 163- minute thriller set in a remote country village was praised for its acting (by Jeong Jae-young, Park Hae-il, and Yu Hae-jin), but ran into narrative difficulties in its second half. The work’s final box office tally was 3.4 million admissions, enough to give a small profit to investors.
The winter season also saw two high-profile projects fail to reach expectations. The most ambitious film of 2010 was The Yellow Sea, Na Hong-jin’s follow-up to his critically and commercially successful debut The Chaser (2008). Reuniting the main cast of that film, The Yellow Sea centers around an ethnic Korean man living in China (Ha Jungwoo, who won Best Actor at the Asian Film Awards for this performance) forced by circumstance to travel to Seoul to carry out a contract killing. With shooting running far beyond its original schedule and the budget (co-financed by 20th Century Fox) running to US$9 million, the film ultimately grossed only 2.3 million admissions. Some viewers felt overwhelmed by the brutal nature of the movie, which ran to 156 minutes. However on an artistic level The Yellow Sea is still an impressive achievement, and the director’s decision to go back to the editing room and create a shorter international cut —expected to premiere at a major festival later this year —is cause for anticipation. Meanwhile the other much-hyped release of the winter was a very different kind of film. Shim Hyung-rae’s The Last Godfather is a English-language slapstick comedy starring the director himself. It was shot in Hollywood, with Harvey Keitel taking a major role. A follow-up of sorts to his 2007 monster movie D-War (released internationally as Dragon Wars), this film featured no special effects but traded on the director’s longtime screen persona (a bumbling but lovable character named Young-goo) and the cachet of having shot the film in Los Angeles — for an estimated US$13 million before marketing and advertising costs. Although the release generated plenty of press coverage, the final tally of 2.6 million admissions fell well short of the film’s break-even point.
If the blockbusters of the past year went zero for four, other sorts of films were able to generate similar returns with smart concepts, good execution and smaller budgets. One of the undisputed critical and popular hits of 2010 was Ryoo Seung-wan’s The Unjust, about a bitter showdown between a corrupt police captain and a ruthlessly ambitious prosecutor. From a director who has sometimes been pigeonholed as a genre specialist, this film presented a gripping look at the power, corruption and influencepeddling endemic to Korea’s justice system. With impressive performances by Hwang Jeong-min and the director’s brother Ryoo Seung-beom, The Unjust rode positive wordof- mouth to a total of 2.8 million admissions —the director’s most commercially successful film to date. Meanwhile Ryoo was also active as a producer, releasing the thriller Troubleshooter in September. Directed by newcomer Kwon Hyeok-jae, the film about a “fixer” who takes on a job too big to handle is consistently engaging despite the familiar subject matter. It sold a total of 1.8 million tickets.
Another impressive autumn release was the romantic comedy Cyrano Agency, which achieved 2.7 million admissions.
Close followers of the industry are unlikely to have been surprised by the film’s success, given director Kim Hyun-seok’s previous track record (When Romance Meets Destiny, YMCA Baseball Team) and the participation of respected production company Myung Film. Superbly written, the film details the activities of an informal company that promises to help clients win the hearts of their ideal partner. The film also received a boost from the casting of rising star actress Lee Min-jeong.
The vitality of the low-budget film sector means that Korea has no shortage of debut directors each year. But it is less common for first-time filmmakers to make an impression at the box office. But Haunters, a creativelyimagined story about a man who can control other people merely by establishing eye contact, did just that. Director Kim Min-suk brought a strong visual component to his film, and succeeded in casting hot actor Gang Dong-won fresh off of his success in the hit 2010 film Secret Reunion (presented at the 12th FEFF). The film attracted an impressive 2.1 million admissions.
Another standout debut from 2010 was My Dear Desperado by Kim Kwang-sik. The film tells the story of a young woman from the country who loses her job in Seoul and moves into a cheap basement room while she struggles to find new work. Her neighbor, it turns out, is a gangster. This causes her no small degree of anxiety and trouble. The film, which had a very small budget and a modest marketing campaign, emerged as one of those rare but encouraging examples of an unknown film that slowly over time amasses a significant audience. 700,000 admissions may not seem like much compared to the other films discussed above, but for a film of this scale it qualifies as a major hit.
The low-budget debut film Bedevilled made a smaller impression at the box office. But in some ways this was the discovery of the year. Premiering in the Critics’ Week section of the Cannes Film Festival, the film went on to win the top prize at the Puchon International Fantastic Film Festival. It also took several major awards for lead Seo Young-hee, including Best Actress at the Fantasporto Festival in Portugal. Set on a remote island, the film depicts the travails of a young wife who suffers unending abuse at the hands of the village men. One day she decides to get her revenge. Supremely well executed, the film marks Jang Chul-soo as a director to watch.
The year 2011 opened with a mix of both hopeful and troubling news. At the box office, period comedy Detective K defied all expectations by amassing 4.8 million admissions, despite a broad critical consensus that it offered little that was new. Casting may have been a key factor in the film’s success, with lead actor Kim Myung-min (who has many fans from his work on TV) and character actor Oh Dal-soo making for a charismatic on-screen pair.
Another film that drew attention was Late Blossom, from director Chu Chang-min. The director scored a hit several years back with the comedy Mapado. This time, he had seemingly handicapped himself by choosing the hard-tomarket theme of two elderly couples in love as they near the end of their lives. Sure enough, the film opened in February and made little commercial impact at first. But the highly moving story and some accomplished performances by several well-known veteran actors pushed it onto the radar of mainstream viewers. At the time of this writing, the low-budget film had grossed over 1 million tickets.
Amidst such promising developments, a somber news story broke in February that refocussed attention on one of the industry’s key weaknesses. A young, unknown screenwriter named Choi Go-eun was found dead in her apartment after the Lunar New Year holiday, having left a note on her landlord’s door reading, “I am embarrassed to ask this, but I haven’t eaten in several days, so if you have any spare rice or kimchi could you please knock at my door.” Although she was known to have suffered from some medical conditions, initially it seemed that malnutrition may have triggered her death. Later autopsies suggested her medical condition was primarily to blame. The news shocked many people both inside and outside the film industry, and it shed light on the fact that, although directors, cinematographers and actors have seen their salaries rise several fold during the past decade, screenwriters have been largely left behind. Choi Go-eun had in fact found some work in the film industry, but given the nature of the contracts (which often defer payment until or if a project goes into production) she still found herself in a desperate struggle to get by. It is extremely difficult to support oneself as a professional screenwriter in Korea, which may partially explain the fact that most Korean films are written by directors.
Reform to working practices in order to better support screenwriters would be greatly beneficial, not only because it is the fair thing to do, but also because Korean cinema needs good stories, capably told. But the fact that everyone agrees on the need for reform is no guarantee that such reform will actually happen. This may be one of the key issues to watch in the coming years. If the situation facing Korean screenwriters improves, then that would be just cause for optimism. If the current system remains in place, then it seems more and more unlikely that Korean cinema will be able to maintain the degree of vitality it currently possesses.
Darcy Paquet