Realism has always held a special place in the hearts of Korean film critics. Throughout much of Korean film history, harsh censorship made it difficult to create films that, in presenting the lives and frustrations of ordinary working citizens, inevitably cast a critical eye on society. The government was largely successful in stifling the production of such films, but in making the realist ideal harder to attain, it also marked it out as the obvious goal for any serious aspiring filmmaker. When in the 1980s cracks began to appear in censorship regime, the result was a new film movement led by directors like PARK Kwang-su, JANG Sunwoo and CHUNG Ji-young. Foreign critics dubbed the movement the Korean New Wave; in Korea, critics initially referred to it as “New Realism”.

 

For Korean filmmakers in the 21st century, realism is no longer the dominant aesthetic ideal - young filmmakers are more likely to be engaged with experimentation in genre and cinematic form. But director LEE Chang-dong has, at times seemingly all by himself, taken the realist tradition in Korean filmmaking and developed it into something vital and contemporary. In his early works, one senses the strong influence of the Korean New Wave. A novelist by training, LEE learned how to make films in the 1990s as an assistant under PARK Kwang-su. Some critics refer to his innovative second feature

 

A Peppermint Candy(2000), which casts an eye back on 20 years of recent history, as the last film of the Korean New Wave. But beginning with Oasis(2002), LEE's approach to realism has been refined into a style that, while seeming ordinary on the surface, is something entirely his own.

 

In interviews for his fourth feature Secret Sunshine(2007), LEE describes his approach to filmmaking. If ordinary cinema tends to glamorize its characters, to make them appear greater or bigger then they would in actual life, then he tries to remove this layer and present them as ordinary people. In selecting camera angles and placement, he doesn't conceive his shots in cinematic terms, but instead he tries to break free of this and present the scene as one would experience it in person. It is a process of stripping cinema of its cinematic flourishes, and although this may not sound fundamentally different from what we normally think of as film realism or naturalism, the effect LEE achieves is subtly different. Film critic Mark PERANSON described Shin-ae and Jong-chan, the protagonists of Secret Sunshine, as “the most real people on display” in the 2007 Cannes competition section. LEE is able to create characters that feel so genuine and bereft of mannerisms that the tragedies which befall them hit you with twice as much force.

Secret Sunshine is, to be sure, one of the most emotionally harrowing films ever made in Korea. Although one hesitates to reveal too much of the plot in an introduction like this, its portrayal of a woman(Shin-ae, played by JEON Do-yeon) who moves to the hometown of her deceased husband and experiences further tragedy is both riveting and heart rending at the same time. Devastated, Shinae turns to Christian fundamentalism, and the middle section of the film charts her efforts to heal and find meaning in life by appealing to a higher being. However another unexpected development in the film's final section grounds her once again in the bitter realities of the secular world.

 

Completed in spring 2007, the unveiling of the film to the public contained its own dramatic trajectory. It was first presented in Seoul on May 1 in press and VIP screenings. Local journalists and industry figures, who had been anxiously awaiting LEE's return to filmmaking after a five-year hiatus, immediately hailed the work as a major achievement. One viewer commented that it was only on the second day after watching it that the full impact of the film was felt, speaking to its unusual power. Soon after it received its official world premiere in competition at the Cannes Film Festival. Although singled out by several critics as one of the competition section's strongest titles, it was not as widely praised as some of its competitors, including the COEN Brothers' No Country for Old Men and Romanian director Cristian MUNGIU's 4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days, which would ultimately win the Palme d'Or. However the tremendous performance by JEON Do-yeon did draw universal acclaim, even from those critics who did not like the film. On May 23, in the latter half of the festival, the film was released in theaters back in Korea, where it failed to stir up much interest among the general public. Then on May 27 at the Cannes closing ceremony, JEON was presented with the Best Actress award, marking Korea's first ever acting award at Cannes. Instantly, JEON's face was splashed across newspapers, magazines and TV screens across Korea and a media storm ensued. Amidst the excitement, interest in the film surged and it shot up in the box office rankings. Although many viewers considered it to be difficult or frustrating, it would ultimately sell 1.6 million tickets, allowing the production to just break even. JEON's award would also be ranked as one of the top 10 news stories in Korea in 2007.

 

Now, as we look back on the film, it still stands out as a rare achievement and LEE's most accomplished work to date (although each of his four films rank as some kind of modern day classic). It is also an unusual showcase of acting talent. Although his performance may have been overlooked in the excitement surrounding the best actress prize, JEON's costar SONG Kang-ho was remarkably effective in providing an emotional anchor for the viewer amidst the turbulence experienced by Shin-ae. The role of Jong-chan is not the sort that a top actor usually takes on: earnest and goodhearted, but somewhat nerdy, this auto mechanic who falls in love with Shinae is a character that requires highly precise acting in order to strike just the right note. SONG, of course, was just the actor to do it. If one were to take a poll of the top Korean actors and actresses of the past decade, most likely SONG and JEON would top the list. In this sense Secret Sunshine, which is the only film in which these two performers appear together, is even more of a landmark.

 

LEE Chang-dong is recognized by virtually everyone in the Korean film industry as one of its top auteurs, and yet at the same time he seems slightly removed from his contemporaries. Partly this is a question of experience: few directors have established themselves in other art forms, as LEE did early in his career as a novelist. Certainly none else have had an experience comparable to serving as Korea's Minister of Culture, which he did from 2003-2004. At the same time there is an austere quality to LEE's art that no other Korean director possesses. His films leave little breathing room for the viewer. In an interview published in the KOFIC Korean Film Directors series, the director says,

 

“Some audiences complain that my films are so tightly knit together and intentional that there is no place for them to escape. I admit this is true, but I don't think it's something I should avoid.” As an independent voice willing to pose uncomfortable questions, and as a coldly precise stylist who has taken the tradition of realism in new and unexpected directions, LEE has earned his way into the top echelon of Korean directors.