The King and I
Aka: Wangkwa Na
Directed by Lee Young Mook & Son Jae Sung
Written by Yoo Dong-yoon (Ladies of the Palace)
Produced by Kim Jae-hyung (Ladies of the Palace)
Originally aired in Korea on SBS television, from August 27,
2007 to April 1, 2008
Review by Leonard Norwitz
Cast:
• Oh Man-seok as Kim Chuh-sun (Shin Don)
• Ku Hye-sun as Yoon So-hwa (Ballad of Seo Dong Yo)
• Go Joo-won as King Sungjong (The Bizarre Bunch)
• Jeon Gwang-ryul as Jo Chi-gyum (Jumong)
• Ahn Jae-mo as Jung Han-soo (The Rustic Era)
• Jeon In-hwa as Queen Insoo (Ladies of the Palace)
• Jung Tae-woo as Prince Yunsan (Chihwaeseon)
Studio:
Television: SBS, Korea
DVD Distribution: YA Entertainment (USA)
Video:
Aspect ratio: 1.78:1
Region 1: NTSC
Feature: 480i / anamorphic
Supplements:
Audio:
Korean Dolby Digital 2.0
Subtitles:
Feature: English
Extras: n/a
Extras
29-page Series Guide in pdf (downloadable.)
Presentation
63 episodes, approx. 70 min/episode
Published in 3 box sets
Each box is in book format with 7 discs
Release Dates: October 28, November 25, 2008, and January 6,
2009
Introduction:
If you hate a person, you hate something in him that is part of
yourself. What isn't part of ourselves doesn't disturb us. ~
Hermann Hesse
"Ambition" may be the operant word for this extraordinary
series, since it clearly motivated the writer and producer as
well as several of its principal characters. The King and I,
which runs well over 70 hours, is a fictionalized dramatization
not only of a great many characters and events across the better
part of a century, but the political struggles and cultural
practices of a time now remote. Moreover, the most important
characters in the series are a class of people never before, to
my knowledge, given pride of place in a popular well-funded
television program from any country.
For us Westerners, this 63-part series comes with an unfortunate
title. As you might expect and hoped, the story has nothing to
do with the Rodgers & Hammerstein musical of the same name, nor
is it a similar story placed elsewhere in a different time. To
put us further off the scent, there isn't one king here but
several, two of which we get to know quite well; and there isn't
one "I" but several, again two that command attention in
specific relation to their king.
The kings of our story emanate from Korea’s early Josun Dynasty
throughout roughly the fifteenth century. King Sejo, whom we
get to know largely by frequent reference by those who follow
him, takes power in a coup, an event whose effects rattle on
across three generations. It is Sejo's successors, particularly
Sungjong and Yunsan, on whom the present drama settles. However
the principal focus is not so much on the kings themselves nor
on their policies or legacys, but on the political dynamics and
intrigues between the eunuchs, led by Jo Chi-gyum and Kim
Chuh-sun, and the kings, their royal families and the kings’
ministers.
Yes, eunuchs! For it they who are the "I" in the title. And
believe me when I tell you that the story of their induction,
castration and servitude is told explicitly, if not entirely
graphically. This is not a drama for children, though it is
about children, many of whom never grow up – certainly not in
the usual social and political sense. Yet, some of them marry
(sans sex, of course), many acquire wealth (skimming was a
common practice among many who worked in the palace), and some
obtain considerable political influence. Many are filled with
self-loathing, as we might expect; yet try to find some sense of
pride in the work they do and with others of their unique
species. Some, exquisitely, love women, who, for more reasons
than are obvious, are out of reach – and it is this story that
informs the emotional backdrop for The King and I.
DVD REVIEW
Image: 7/6
The score of 7 indicates a relative level of excellence compared
to other standard definition DVDs on a 10-point scale for SD
DVDs. The second score represents a value for the image on a
10-point scale that accommodates both standard and
high-definition video discs – where any score above 7 for an SD
is outstanding, since the large majority of high definition
video discs are 8-10.
Originally broadcast in HD, the image offered by YAE is
excellent: Colors are natural, vivid and well saturated, daytime
or night. The King and I is nothing, if not beautiful to
look at, despite the occasional tendency for Korean dramas to
overexpose the highs, especially in outdoor scenes. There is a
certain confusion of foreground and background when things get
very busy, but this is the fault of the DP, not the transfer.
As usual, the image is non-progressive, but still looks very
good unless paused on your computer where combing and jpg
artifacts are made more apparent. I've seen much worse examples
of combing and edge enhancement from this company.
Audio & Music : 7/5
Like most Korean TV dramas, even those in broadcast in High
Definition, the audio is front-directed stereo. Music, effects
and dialogue are nicely balanced and clear, with generous bass
and clean treble when needed. Unlike the music for Dae Jang
Geum or Jumong, the music here is more varied in mood
and style, which I did not always feel was appropriate for the
scene scored. It is a common practice to simply copy and paste
complete cues for a wide variety of scenes without so much as
re-orchestrating them or altering the tempo. Even though the
audience would have been watching two episodes a week, not five
or six as I did, they could not have helped but notice a certain
degree of careless repetition. Much to my surprise there wasn’t
a single memorable song, nor any that vied for my attention or
affection.
Translation & Subtitles : 5/9
Perhaps the most annoying thing about the subtitles is the
pervasive practice throughout Volume One of indicating not only
the name of the character speaking, but who they will eventually
become (king, queen, eunuch, etc.) So much for suspense!
Instances of misspelling are rare, but there is more than an
occasional misuse of English words that try too hard where a
simpler solution would work better: "overambition" instead of
"ambition" for example. But the more serious problems with the
translation lie elsewhere.
I mentioned earlier that the chain of command is not clear in
this series. There are two problems: The first is that at any
one time it is possible for there to be four different levels of
queen (the king's grandmother, the king's mother, the king's
wife, and the mother of his child). The translation refers to
all of them merely as "queen." Since the screenplay does not
make it clear who has the power of decision, we are never clear
as to the pecking order. For example, there were times when I
had the impression that a consensus needed to be reached before
a proclamation could be issued; at other times I thought that
the king had final authority but would not act without the
blessing of one or both queen mothers simply out of respect. In
other cases, it was impossible to sort out who had the power to
arrest or torture or execute someone or, more important, who
could override such an order. This makes questions of suspense
impossible, since we don’t really know if a particular prisoner,
whose fate we may care about, can be absolved by this or that
official. Koreans would no doubt have enough historical
knowledge about these times and persons that they do not require
the level of clarity non-Korean do. All the more reason for the
translation to be helpful.
Second, while it was evident that "ministers," "officials,"
"royals" and "eunuchs" all had their place and spheres of
influence, it was not clear what that was or how it worked.
While I did not expect that the screenplay or translation would
place itself on pause and explain to the audience: "Now in 1476,
the Korean system worked thus . . ." I did expect that such
matters or the roles of the several queens would be addressed in
the pdf booklet. Except for the in-depth discussion about the
history and roles of the eunuchs, we learn very little about the
way the government actually works.
There are other problems with the translation (which, by the
way, was not created by YA-Entertainment staff, even though the
series is distributed in North America by them.) The first is
the frequent and entirely inappropriate use of western
colloquialisms. The action in the palace gets the worst of it.
For example, a person might be asking of an authority figure: "I
know that so-an-so just tried to poison the queen but I'd like
you to let is slide." Not only is the expression "let it slide"
out of time, but it makes light of the situation, don’t you
think. My favorite, and laugh out loud example of the misuse of
western expressions occurs numerous times about midway into the
series when the king is engaged in a secret affair with a
married woman in the village just outside the palace. This is
referred to by just about everyone as "dating."
Another problem is more pervasive: the translation, especially
as regards the action in the palace, makes everyone appear less
important and more impotent than they are, even the non-eunuchs
– though they are the most frequent abusers. People make
threats and promises they don't keep, for it they did, the
series would come to an end much sooner than it does. For
example, when it becomes clear that so-and-so is involved in a
plot to frame the queen for what would be a capital offense, the
good guy says to the bad guy: "I'll forgive you this time, but
if you do this again, you'll pay," or "I'll never forgive you,"
or "I'll kill you." But none of these things ever happen
(except when Queen Insoo says it – she rarely misses an
opportunity to torture or send someone away from the palace in
disgrace). This not only weakens the offended person and
strengthens the offender, but brings attention to a serious
weakness in the screenplay: that hardly anyone follows through
on their promises, so we start to lose interest.
Operations & Box Design : 8/9
As we've been seeing more frequently from YAE, the names of the
stars appear in English over the episode's credits as they and
their characters are introduced. A nice trend. The menu is
uncomplicated, again in English (as is always the case with YAE),
with animated thumbnails for chapters.
The King and I
is packaged in three hefty volumes of seven easily removable
discs, one disc per page. What is unusual is the thickness of
each page: about 6 mm. This makes for a heavier, more luxurious
box than anything YAE has previously offered, or most anyone
else for that matter.
Extras : 7
The Extra Features consist entirely of a nicely produced
29-page Series Reference Guide as a downloadable pdf. This
makes it harder to misplace, but less handy if you want to thumb
through it while watching your program. Of course you can
always print it out. For what it does cover – a look at ancient
Josun history, its kings and the cultural value of the eunuchs,
it is an excellent resource – as far as it goes. It also
briefly sketches out a half dozen of its major characters.
However there are questions that come up for Westerners that are
not addressed in either the translation or the booklet: for
example the political lines of authority and job descriptions,
so to speak, of the ministers and officials and the
simultaneously serving queens. Nor do we ever get to find out
what exactly are the "3 virtues and 3 flaws" that make Chuh-sun
the "perfect eunuch."
Recommendation: 6
At last, a Korean drama that doesn't center on food. The King
and I is a historical drama whose main characters are
eunuchs and the political, ethical and marital crises they
face. The series is much longer than it needs to be and doesn't
take advantage of the time it allots itself. It is marred by
repetitious situations and cliffhangers and a clumsy translation
that starts off well enough but gets lazier as it goes along.
The series is photographed in luscious color, with high
production values, especially as concerns the extravagant and
varied costumes. It is filled with affecting performances from
everyone except one of the leads. Unlike most Korean dramas
I’ve seen, the score is not memorable, with nary a single song
to stir the heart. Recommended especially for a Korean speaking
audience or English-speaking if they can be forgiving of basic
translation problems.
DRAMA SERIES REVIEW
The Series : 7 (of 10)
Story:
The political drama is always front and center, especially once
the eunuchs we have been following since childhood take their
places in the palace pecking order. The political conflict for
them is the tension between loyalty to their oath – to serve and
protect the king – on the one hand, and loyalty to a patriot's
sense of right, wrong, justice and country on the other. A
eunuch who has risen through the ranks is in a sensitive and
influential position in relation to the king, and if such a king
were to step over a line, from simple courtesy to despotism, a
eunuch finds himself in a difficult situation, for they are
forbidden to be involved in politics – a rule that cries out to
be broken. Such crises of loyalty compel them to make ethical
compromises that they must forever rationalize – sooner or later
to their peril.
As in any good drama, the "bad" guys are far more interesting
than the "good" guys. I think it's no exaggeration to say that
the balance is laughable at times. The bad guys, for example,
conspire in whispers and have spies everywhere. The good guys,
and anyone else who is vulnerable, speak publicly and have no
spies. They never look over their shoulder to see if anyone is
following them, for if they did, the series would rapidly come
to an end. This is a strategy common to Korean dramas, however
odd it will seem to western audiences.
And if you think that the western judicial system is too lenient
on criminals, wait until you get eyeful of how it once was: In
those days, all one had to do was present circumstantial
evidence to the right person to have the accused tortured -
guilty or not - until they confessed – a confession whose only
relief is a quicker execution. No one would dare speak for the
accused since guilt was assumed, and defense would imply
complicity. Worse still, if competing hypotheses were advanced
to explain how the accused committed the crime, the one that
supported the accusation was always favored, as was the rank of
the accuser, leaving the accused to prove a negative: How for
instance does someone prove that they did NOT poison so-and-so
without finding the culprit and securing a confession, and how
could they do that while being tortured or imprisoned. In those
days, the concubines were always vying for power against each
other and against whatever wife of the king is currently on the
throne. Their object: deposition. It makes for a delicious
concoction of exquisitely executed framings, exorbitant
extortions and ready-to-eat poisons.
It doesn’t help that the writer for this series has made
well-meaning investigators unbelievably stupid, often ignoring
obvious leads. Chuh-sun, for example, has the annoying habit of
asking someone he suspects (his intuitions are generally
correct) if they know anything about the crime, fully convinced
that he would get an honest answer simply because HE would give
an honest answer. Though the "suspect" may look as guilty as
hell, after 60 episodes Chuh-sun never acquires the wisdom of a
seven year old in such matters – yet he feels he is the right
person to head up a secret investigation simply because no one
has more loyalty to the accused than he. In such matters, the
man is an idiot.
Which leads me to say a few words about the king – or one of the
kings: Sungjong. We should call him “King of Rationalizers!”
The way he excuses himself for carrying on a secret affair with
a married woman, all the while claiming to his wife, who knows
about the affair, that he is loyal to her and that she (his wife
and queen) is, always has been and always will be the “love of
his life” makes you want to take this guy around back and beat
the crap out of him. If this weren’t enough, he is told by his
trusted friends who know about the affair that once the
ministers find out about it they will use the information to
blackmail him, which would further weaken his authority. He
would become a king in name only. And if this still weren’t
enough, if he were to continue to continue this affair, he is
told that sooner or later both she and his queen would find
themselves in mortal peril. So, with his own authority, the
authority of the royal family and the lives of the two women he
claims he loves in jeopardy, he has the chutzpah to indulge
himself with sighs of remorse as his world falls apart. And
then, to top it all off, he decrees that the matter is not be
discussed or investigated for 100 years, leaving his son in
ignorance and his teachers helpless to guide him. Talk about
political inbreading!
Performances:
A few words about the actors in this drama. With one important
exception, all the roles are well cast and characterized, save
that some of the younger actors (especially Go Joo-won before he
adopts a small beard) look too modern. I mentioned earlier that
Chuh-sun was good at keeping secrets. The actor who plays him,
Oh Man-seok, makes certain that the audience knows as little as
possible about the inner struggles he must certainly entertain,
for he is the most uncharismatic Korean actor I've come across.
Oh makes it clear what charisma is about since he affects none,
except that he has an unfortunate half-smile that makes his
character look like a simpleton. It is not until the final
episodes that Chuh-sun finally admits to himself the Truth and
pays the price – or becomes a hero, depending on how you see
it. But until then, he does not let on. I suspect that the
actor has been directed to remain stone-faced, but whenever he
is on screen I hold my breath, as he seems to. (My Korean
sources tell me that my feeling about this performance is not
typical of Koreans.)
Fortunately there are many other characters, great and small, to
distract us from Oh's mind-numbing performance. At the head of
this class is Jeon In-hwa, who plays Queen Insoo, the real power
behind the throne – a woman who seeks control and fears the loss
of it like alternating current. Jeon’s performance allows us to
feel the strength of Insoo’s conviction as well as the
tenuousness of her hold on circumstances within and without the
palace.
Then there’s Jun Hye Bin who plays the quietly scheming Sul-young,
a woman who could wither you with a glance. And there are two
men who remain faithful to their cause forever, and we admire
them for it: Gae Do Chi, the castrator, played with great
subtly of feeling by Ahn Kil Kang, a man racked with the guilt
of stealing future generations from children who are hardly old
enough to give informed consent. And Han Jung Soo as Do Geum
Pyo, Chi-gyum’s formidable bodyguard: skillful, watchful and
silently devoted. Speaking of formidable, age is no object to
Shin Goo, nor his character, Noh Nae Si, a hoarding, spiteful
man, despite and because he requires the help of a young woman
just to stand and move about. On the other hand he has perhaps
the clearest notion of what's always at stake, as he advises
Chi-Gyum who is considering whether to join the coup, "You will
become a hero or a traitor. It's a very thin line. " It's a
question asked repeatedly throughout the series. Noh adds,
"Though dynasties may change and kings will come and go, our
testicles will never grow back."
There are many interesting characters and fine performances, but
I shall single out one more: Yoon Yoo Sun as Wol Hwa. We’ve
seen her before as the resolute queen in the contemporary young
adult comedy/romance “Palace”, but here she is most
touching as a self-effacing, childless shaman who finds an
infant child in the forest and raises him as her own. She is
chronically frightened that the boy will discover she is not his
mother and the identity of his real parents are – not that she
knows. When he decides to become a eunuch and when it becomes
clear to her who his mother really is, a woman she has the most
tender regard for, she still refuses to reveal the truth to
him. The irony is that his birth mother is actually his nurse,
but because of her amnesia does not know recognize her own
child. There is enough material in this triad alone for an
entire series, and Yoon Yoo Sun does an admirable job of
gradually withering away before our eyes as she watches
Chuh-sun’s fate unfold.
Characters
Instead of continuing to summarize pieces of this complex plot,
I thought it might be more interesting to describe the essential
dilemma or ambition of each of the important characters:
Kim Chuh-sun:
From his youth he had borne a crush for So-hwa whose affections
lie instead with another childhood friend, a boy who eventually
becomes King Sungjong. Chuh-sun is a man who keeps secrets so
well he even keeps them from himself, and refuses to admit his
true feelings. He becomes a eunuch in order to serve and protect
So-hwa, who has since been selected as a royal concubine. He is
helped in his endeavors by Palace Head Eunuch, Jo Chi-gyum, who
adopts Chuh-sun as his son. Chuh-sun's dilemma is that he
cannot reconcile the needs of state with the uncompromising
ethical system of rules he has chosen to live by, doubtless in
order to keep his longing for So-hwa suppressed. He serves two
masters: the heart and the head, and though he suffers from the
weight of his dilemma, he is painfully impotent to fully act on
behalf of either.
Yoon So-hwa:
So-hwa's father has been, like so many others in this story,
framed for crimes he did not commit, and is eventually disposed
of, leaving his family disgraced. But when the man she loves
becomes king, he is determined to bring her into the palace, if
only as a concubine, regardless of the target of treachery she
will necessarily become.
King Sungjong:
When Sungjong bring So-hwa into the palace against the
objections of the royal family and just about everyone else, it
represents one of the few times this spineless, mama's boy gets
his way. Unfortunately he is a weak king who never gets the
hang of the chain of command any more than we do, resulting in
considerable and tragic outcomes for those he loves.
Jo Chi-gyum:
It is with this eunuch that The King and I gets under
way, long before Songjong is enthroned. Jo betrays his friend,
who has attempted to lead a coup against the king. His friend's
wife, for whom Jo always had more than a passing interest,
escapes with her infant child whom she hides in the mountains
before she falls off a cliff and becomes amnesiac for the next
couple of decades. When Jo, already married, finds her, he
cares for her indirectly, and tries to locate her missing son
(this much she remembers). The irony is that this son is none
other than Chuh-sun who was found by a shaman and raised in the
shadow of a school for eunuchs.
Jung Han-soo:
One of the more interesting figures in this drama, Han-soo is
not of low birth, and is sold to the eunuch school to help keep
his family from being thrown into the street. He is a boy of
rare intelligence, who grows up with a passionate jealousy of
the interest paid to another boy by people in power and, like
Lex Luthor, applies his skills to anarchistic ends. His
overwhelming interest is in the accumulation of power to wield
against those he feels were responsible for placing his family
in such straits as would necessitate his becoming a eunuch.
Han-soo is a vivid portrait of self-hatred and utterly
unconscious of it, except in moments of intense passion.
Queen Insoo:
The woman we love to hate. Insoo is Sungjong's mother and
guides her son-king with an iron fist, even after he is old
enough to no longer require his mother and grandmother as
regents. Her prejudices fail to allow her see the truth, but
she is always guided by her keen political understanding. She,
more than anyone, even the king, understands that the king can
do nothing without the ministers; and if they want someone
removed from the palace or arrested, or tortured, or even
deposed, their wish must be her judgment.
Lord Noh:
Jo Chi-Gyum's adoptive father, and the most powerful of the
eunuchs, now retired, but always at work in the background to
ensure his sphere of influence. He is not averse to a little
extortion or murder to achieve his ends.
Sul-young:
One of the most beautiful vipers ever to grace the soap box, Jun
Hye Bin plays Seol-young, who spends most of her hours in
silence, pouring tea and helping the elderly Lord Noh move from
this posture to that. She uses her beauty and not
inconsiderable, persuasive intellect to affect some of the more
spectacular murders in the palace.
Eulwoodong:
The Other Woman: Beautiful and talented. Resentful and tragic.
One of the few completely honest figures in this drama, not that
it gets her anything but our sympathies.
King Yunsan:
Truly a despot for the ages, though he doesn’t start out that
way. Rather, he is a victim of never having been told the truth
of the circumstances regarding his mother’s death. And so when
it finally emerges, as it must, he is totally unprepared, and
the self-fulfilling prophesy of reprisals that the ministers
feared all along happens, big time.
Leonard Norwitz
June 6th, 2009
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