Redefining Masculinity
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Films Search for the Man Out of the Violence
By Bridget O'Brien
Contributing Writer
As the old saying goes, a Korean man only cries three times in his life: when he is born, when his parents die and when the nation falls into crisis.
Men are considered tough and, at times, brutal. But even with these stoical notions of masculinity written into the male gender code, the times do seem to be changing. As Uri Party chairman Chung Dong-young demonstrated with one elegant tear of jubilation with his party's victory in the 17th National Assembly elections, South Korea is witnessing an incredible societal change and a redefinition of the individual within. During this transformation from a militarized, insular and authoritarian society to a democratic, cosmopolitan and tolerant one, the question of male and female roles emerges yet again.
As Gender Equality Minister Chi Eun-hee attended the 48th the Session of the United Nations Commission on the Status of Women in New York, she reflected that there is a need to place greater importance on enhancing the roles and lives of men and boys.
Women's groups, now reaching a mature phase of development, have since the early 1990s targeted a rounded policy on women's role and treatment in Korean society. These progressive groups allow for a constant redefinition of what it means to be a woman.
Since we have seen the success of so many female candidates in the recent elections, together with a call in the political arena to embrace the humanistic values that are traditionally viewed as the domain of women, men perhaps are feeling the need also for a little role redefinition.
Women's movements in South Korea have been fighting against violence, establishing a counseling network and raising public awareness. They have also pushed for equal wages and to abolishing the archaic patriarchal systems embedded in society. But it is crucial to enable men and women to reach a level of mutual understanding that enables peace and prosperity for all of Korea.
In his recently published book, "The Remasculinization of Korean Cinema," Kim Kyung-hyun investigates how Korean films in recent years have become interestingly gendered, particularly discussing the role of men in Korean society.
Kim argues that the societal changes in recent decades were picked up by filmmakers and mirrored in their works. The prevalence of gendered notions in recent Korean cinema reveals the need, and efforts already made, for a discussion of the male role.
Lee Chang-dong's "Pakha Satang (Peppermint Candy)" (2000), follows the depressing downward spiral of a man pummeled by the political, economic and social troubles of the `80s early `90s.
The Kwangju Massacre, the oppressive government of former President Chun Doo-hwan, the 1990s economic expansion and finally the crash of 1997 all feature as events overwhelmingly significant on the characters and roles of men and women in Korea.
In "Peppermint Candy," the individual is destroyed by these oppressive and deterministic factors in society and is represented as losing all ideals and innocence, becoming cynical, brutal and violent. This gives an example of manhood as explained through the pressures in society.
It is particularly the men who are represented and it is through violence that these characters struggle.
Recent films such as "Chinggu (Friend)" (2001), "Silmido" (2003), and "Taegukgi" (2003) have in turn proven the need for filmmakers to discuss a sentimentality of the human condition alongside the pervasive factor of violence.
In his book, Kim contends that "cinema that has emerged out of Korea in the last 20 years strongly re-identifies with the desire for `dominant men.' They are fraught with male anxiety." Kim discusses the need for a salient manhood that defies contradictions of sexual repression.
The Women's Film Festival recently held in Sinchon, Seoul has given the opportunity for many films to be shown that would not have otherwise passed through the censors.
As film festival programmer Kwon Eun-sun discusses in an interview with The Korea Times, "The films in the festival were not essentially violent, though violence was used as a symbol to break through the dominant male systems. Most of the films shown discuss feminism in a moderate way, most with directors focusing on the family, with issues related to real life, and the relationships between people."
Images of domesticity are presented, for example, the kitchen is explored as a female place and the center of the home, the internal environment.
"Films like `Silmido,' where the man is the center of a violent situation, or a perpetrator of violence, women are used as props, as victims, as traditional wives, rape victims, mothers, those needing protection, and unfortunately those reach greater commercial success."
On the other hand, "Chopok Manura (My Wife is a Gangster)" (2001), where the leading woman is portrayed as the most violent character, was commercially successful because it gave a distorted caricature of a woman. This film does not work in terms of redefinition. "It is ineffectual as a reality depiction or a gender switch", Kwon explains.
The film is not a successful investigation into the roles of women through violence, but more symptomatic of the audience's bloodthirsty craving for hard-hitting images.
Kim contends, "The violence that is ubiquitous to many Korean films, for instance, is symptomatic of Korea's ongoing quest for modernity and for a post-modern and for a post-authoritarian identity."
By Bridget O'Brien
Contributing Writer
As the old saying goes, a Korean man only cries three times in his life: when he is born, when his parents die and when the nation falls into crisis.
Men are considered tough and, at times, brutal. But even with these stoical notions of masculinity written into the male gender code, the times do seem to be changing. As Uri Party chairman Chung Dong-young demonstrated with one elegant tear of jubilation with his party's victory in the 17th National Assembly elections, South Korea is witnessing an incredible societal change and a redefinition of the individual within. During this transformation from a militarized, insular and authoritarian society to a democratic, cosmopolitan and tolerant one, the question of male and female roles emerges yet again.
As Gender Equality Minister Chi Eun-hee attended the 48th the Session of the United Nations Commission on the Status of Women in New York, she reflected that there is a need to place greater importance on enhancing the roles and lives of men and boys.
Women's groups, now reaching a mature phase of development, have since the early 1990s targeted a rounded policy on women's role and treatment in Korean society. These progressive groups allow for a constant redefinition of what it means to be a woman.
Since we have seen the success of so many female candidates in the recent elections, together with a call in the political arena to embrace the humanistic values that are traditionally viewed as the domain of women, men perhaps are feeling the need also for a little role redefinition.
Women's movements in South Korea have been fighting against violence, establishing a counseling network and raising public awareness. They have also pushed for equal wages and to abolishing the archaic patriarchal systems embedded in society. But it is crucial to enable men and women to reach a level of mutual understanding that enables peace and prosperity for all of Korea.
In his recently published book, "The Remasculinization of Korean Cinema," Kim Kyung-hyun investigates how Korean films in recent years have become interestingly gendered, particularly discussing the role of men in Korean society.
Kim argues that the societal changes in recent decades were picked up by filmmakers and mirrored in their works. The prevalence of gendered notions in recent Korean cinema reveals the need, and efforts already made, for a discussion of the male role.
Lee Chang-dong's "Pakha Satang (Peppermint Candy)" (2000), follows the depressing downward spiral of a man pummeled by the political, economic and social troubles of the `80s early `90s.
The Kwangju Massacre, the oppressive government of former President Chun Doo-hwan, the 1990s economic expansion and finally the crash of 1997 all feature as events overwhelmingly significant on the characters and roles of men and women in Korea.
In "Peppermint Candy," the individual is destroyed by these oppressive and deterministic factors in society and is represented as losing all ideals and innocence, becoming cynical, brutal and violent. This gives an example of manhood as explained through the pressures in society.
It is particularly the men who are represented and it is through violence that these characters struggle.
Recent films such as "Chinggu (Friend)" (2001), "Silmido" (2003), and "Taegukgi" (2003) have in turn proven the need for filmmakers to discuss a sentimentality of the human condition alongside the pervasive factor of violence.
In his book, Kim contends that "cinema that has emerged out of Korea in the last 20 years strongly re-identifies with the desire for `dominant men.' They are fraught with male anxiety." Kim discusses the need for a salient manhood that defies contradictions of sexual repression.
The Women's Film Festival recently held in Sinchon, Seoul has given the opportunity for many films to be shown that would not have otherwise passed through the censors.
As film festival programmer Kwon Eun-sun discusses in an interview with The Korea Times, "The films in the festival were not essentially violent, though violence was used as a symbol to break through the dominant male systems. Most of the films shown discuss feminism in a moderate way, most with directors focusing on the family, with issues related to real life, and the relationships between people."
Images of domesticity are presented, for example, the kitchen is explored as a female place and the center of the home, the internal environment.
"Films like `Silmido,' where the man is the center of a violent situation, or a perpetrator of violence, women are used as props, as victims, as traditional wives, rape victims, mothers, those needing protection, and unfortunately those reach greater commercial success."
On the other hand, "Chopok Manura (My Wife is a Gangster)" (2001), where the leading woman is portrayed as the most violent character, was commercially successful because it gave a distorted caricature of a woman. This film does not work in terms of redefinition. "It is ineffectual as a reality depiction or a gender switch", Kwon explains.
The film is not a successful investigation into the roles of women through violence, but more symptomatic of the audience's bloodthirsty craving for hard-hitting images.
Kim contends, "The violence that is ubiquitous to many Korean films, for instance, is symptomatic of Korea's ongoing quest for modernity and for a post-modern and for a post-authoritarian identity."
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