Pachinko Recap: Mutual Distrust

As a seasoned reader and observer of human dynamics, I find myself deeply moved by the complexities unfolding in this narrative. The character of Sunja, in particular, captures my heart with her resilience and unwavering spirit.


So far, we’ve advanced deep into the penultimate episode of “Pachinko“, and quite a bit has transpired. Initially, the family’s circumstances were precarious, with survival and security being primary concerns throughout the first part of the season. However, as the narrative unfolds, it appears to have transitioned predominantly into the realm of domestic dramas, save for the Nagasaki episode in “Chapter Thirteen”.

In my opinion, the chosen style fits the series quite nicely. However, the intense emotional journey portrayed in the narrative, combined with the weekly episode releases, can’t entirely mask the inconsistency in the season’s tempo. This week’s installment is nearly fifteen minutes longer than last week’s, which was ten minutes shorter than the one prior. I don’t intend to be overly critical about episode duration, but it’s a sign of the show’s uncertainty regarding the rate at which events should progress that it fluctuates between episodes loaded with information and ones that appear relatively slow in comparison.

In “Chapter Fifteen,” the pace of the novel Pachinko seems to rush a bit, causing the plot to outpace the characters’ development. This installment features more of the type of scene I mentioned previously, hinting at future storylines. However, what truly captivates me is the accumulation of subtle details: the progression of the star-crossed lovers, Mozasu and Noa; the evolving bond between them, and the unexpected camaraderie blossoming between Sunja and Kato.

1950

In the signature fashion of ‘Pachinko’, each episode begins with a luscious scene depicting a meal. This time, the gathering is in honor of Noa’s acceptance into Waseda University. Friends and family come together under a bilingual sign that reads “Our Noa is going to Waseda University!”, filled with conversation, laughter, food, and tears. The mood is so jubilant that even Hansu’s arrival in a white linen suit fails to dampen the festivities for Sunja. Privately, he hands Noa a gold pocket watch – the same one he had given Sunja years ago when she pawned it during her initial week in Osaka to clear one of Yoseb’s debts. He mentions that the watch signified “the beginning”, but doesn’t elaborate. Neither Noa nor Sunja ask for clarification, and Sunja looks troubled by this exchange. Meanwhile, Kim Changho listens as others discuss the challenges of returning to Korea, while Yoseb watches from his room window, drinking alone. (I can’t help but wonder how many times I’ve typed this scene description this season.)

Hansu feels content with his son’s commendable performance, allowing his thoughts to wander towards other matters: Yoshii Isamu’s marriage to his daughter Keiko, Kim’s suggestion of departing Japan for combat in Korea, and a project they are involved in concerning the construction of new subway systems. His father-in-law assures him that there is no cause for worry regarding Yoshii, describing him as “merely an unlucky ruffian.” Instead, he advises Hansu to concentrate on their secret endeavor with the subways. His daughter’s wedding should not trouble him either — in fact, he won’t be required to attend it. With little show of regret, Hansu’s father-in-law informs him that Kurogane has asked for Hansu’s absence at the ceremony, an unreasonable request that he has granted. Despite not being particularly fond of Keiko, whom we only met briefly in the first season, Hansu feels offended, but it is not because of his affection for her; rather, it is a matter of pride.

At the Baek residence, we observe a recurring scene: Kyunghee, Sunja, and Yangjin are kneeling, preparing clothes. This time, however, this scene suggests prosperity instead of ambiguity, yet it unsettles Sunja all the same. Meanwhile, Noa is cherishing his final moments with his younger brother Mozasu, who demonstrates pachinko to him. Hinting at his future business success, Mozasu excels in the parlor: he charms the employees and skillfully controls the game, which proves too chaotic for the practical-minded Noa.

In a casual and clear manner: While it might seem that Mozasu is simply a carefree dreamer due to less pressure on him compared to his brother, “Chapter Fifteen” reveals different aspects of his character. His fearlessness transcends daydreaming and has real-world implications. He genuinely wants Noa to explore Tokyo’s city life, but he aspires for more than just living off his brother’s intellect – his ambition is to earn money and migrate to America, where he hopes to escape the stereotypes that define him in Japan. Mozasu’s optimism, despite its heartache, captivates both the audience and his brother.

Not only does this episode feature one significant moment for Mozasu, but another impactful sequence follows. Despite being overly dark to match its importance in character development, it unfolds thus: Sunja recites a heartfelt prayer before dinner, expressing her hopes for Noa’s safety in Tokyo and his success in the city. The prayer is so moving that it stirs emotions within everyone present, including Noa himself. However, Yoseb spoils this peaceful moment by storming downstairs to criticize them angrily: Why wasn’t he invited to dine with them? And isn’t a too-salty soup all they could prepare for Noa’s farewell? In the end, Mozasu can no longer tolerate Yoseb’s outburst and defends Aunt Kyunghee, who has always cared for him tenderly. Although frustrated, he expresses his affection as he stands up for her, explaining that what happened to Yoseb is not their fault, and they don’t deserve the brunt of his anger. Surprisingly, timid Noa supports Mozasu, placing a scarf around his uncle’s neck. In the five years since Yoseb’s Nagasaki tragedy, he has been confined to the house. The boys believe it’s high time for him to leave, and this incident seems to be the catalyst. Initially, Yoseb resists fiercely, but eventually yields.

Yoseb becomes overwhelmed with the change almost as soon as he takes a few steps out of the house, but Mozasu encourages him; trusting his own courage and adolescent wisdom, he knows that the only way out for Yoseb is through. They wind up at a little league baseball game. At first, Yoseb follows the trajectory of the ball with his eyes; when the batting kid is paralyzed at home plate, he encourages him to run. Little by little, he gets more involved, so by the time the kid scores a run, he is throwing his hands in the air in excitement. Like Kato and Sunja’s margarita date last week, this is another small moment that moves as much, if not more, than any of the larger emotional gestures in the show — some pleasures are immune to misery’s greedy hands. Yoseb’s eyes well up.

If it weren’t for Sunja’s bravery, Yoseb may have never known small joys, left his room, or reconsidered how he expressed his anger towards his devoted wife. Yet, this courage wasn’t spontaneous; it was rooted in Sunja’s conversation with Hansu, where she offered guidance. Disillusioned by the person he had become, far removed from the lover who aspired for a better life at Busan’s cove, Hansu sought her advice about his growing concerns over what he referred to as “the decay” within him. Sunja’s counsel was straightforward, powerful, and surprising: Simply eliminate the decay. It’s that simple. Despite its bluntness, her words spoke volumes about her belief in him: The decay is not an inherent aspect of his character but a flaw that, with dedication, can be overcome. Hansu pondered over her advice, thanked her, and departed.

As Noa bid farewell to his family and boarded the train to Tokyo with Sunja, it seemed as though we had been saying goodbye to Noa for a full 40 minutes. The Baek family’s goodbyes are final – or at least for an undetermined amount of time – so the moment Noa departed was heavy with sadness. Mozasu held back his tears until almost the last second, when he broke down and ran to his brother for a hug. Noa encouraged him to never stop chasing his dreams, and by the time they reached Tokyo with their mother, the city seemed to gleam – the colors on the Waseda campus were more vibrant than those in Osaka.

In comparison, Sunja appears more uneasy than Noa upon their arrival. The staff member registering students for dormitories is taken aback by Noa’s Japanese name, emblazoned on a golden plate attached to a suitcase delivered by a chauffeured car that day, leaving everyone, including Noa, perplexed. Sunja and I, however, remain relatively unbothered. It’s evident who is responsible for this, and while Sunja might have considered mentioning Hansu to her son during their train ride — she opened her mouth as if to speak, then shut it again — she eventually brings up her father, Hoonie instead. He instilled in Sunja a desire to travel and explore the world. Now, the burden falls on Noa, and she wishes him to embrace it — return home and share his experiences with everyone. For Sunja, giving her son a tight hug once and departing without looking back is simpler. Unfortunately, we don’t get a peek into Noa’s dorm room, but things escalate rapidly. As he wanders around, he encounters a girl delivering a speech from a soapbox about American intervention, empire, and the importance of liberating Japan from Western influence. Clearly, it’s college life!

As Noa was investigating the campus, a terrible incident occurred in Osaka. Kim Changho chose to participate in the Northern conflict in Korea, fulfilling an arrangement he made with Hansu who assured him freedom once Noa was positioned at Waseda. However, moments before his departure, Yoseb confronted him, imploring him to remain. Kim understands that Kyunghee harbors deep affection for him, a sentiment she has never shown towards Yoseb, he confesses sorrowfully. The consequences of Mozasu’s encouragement were more widespread and profound than anticipated. Overwhelmed, Yoseb admits to Kim that Kyunghee deserves more than what he can offer her. If Kim stays, Yoseb will step aside from interfering with their happiness.

Overwhelmed with shock, Kim dashes through the neighborhood searching for Kyunghee. Upon finding her, Kyunghee’s response is far from what Kim expected. Resigned, she admits in a quiet yet firm voice that she believes she is to blame for Yoseb’s fate. The bombing occurred on the same night when she violated her marriage vows with Kim in the countryside. She prays, and her husband returned, making her feel indebted to God and compelled to serve Him as if penancing for her transgression. This confession leaves Kim, along with me, in disbelief.

This really gets to me, but anyway, Hansu’s last, mysterious job for Kim before he left — this time making a friend instead of beating someone up — did end up in violence after all. The friend turned out to be Yoshii, and the foe turned out to be his father-in-law. Hansu lets Yoshii in through the front door, and the gangster stabs the old man right in the gut, sending him backward into the koi pond to look up as if he were floating.

1989

In the not-so-distant past, there’s been a lot of betrayal and heartache. When Naomi is summoned to the director’s office at the start of “Chapter Fifteen,” she senses trouble right away. Her superiors inform her that they’ve uncovered her disclosure of confidential information about the upcoming IPO – information she shared with excitement and confidence during a dinner with Solomon when her guard was down. It seems like a different era, doesn’t it? Her actions violate company policy, but the fact that she’s a woman adds to her transgression because she’s expected to be flawless. Naomi bristles at this notion and voices her displeasure, pointing out Tom, who was given another chance despite committing fraud. However, her argument falls on deaf ears. She loses her job, and it turns out Tom is quick to call in Abe’s loan, all to Yoshii’s delight. Just like his mentor in wickedness and unethical behavior, Yoshii takes pride in Solomon for carrying out the deed; he never thought Solomon was capable of such actions.

Intrigued by Solomon’s questionable actions, I yearn to understand Sunja’s perspective, yet she seems engrossed in the art of replanting with her companion, Kato. He broaches the topic of Connecticut, and she speaks of it warmly. Lamenting his unfulfilled desire to explore America, he shares his struggles with finances, contemplating a move to Nagoya to reside with his daughter. This predicament stirs emotions in Sunja; maybe it’s empathy or the thought that he might relocate before she fully accepts a new presence. In a surprising turn, Sunja presents Kato an envelope containing her savings from selling her restaurant – hinting at the eventual realization of her ambitious dream. Seizing the day is something Kato often advocates; why not seize it now? Kato counters my idea: Why not embark on this journey together?

It doesn’t seem like a sensible suggestion for her son Mozasu, but the investigator found out that Kato lives alone, has little contact with family, no wealth, and a troubled past in the war where he was put on trial for a massacre at Palawan Island. This revelation about Kato’s history leaves Sunja confused and upset once more. She wonders why this information is being shared with her now. He claims it’s to reveal the truth, but the truth is more complex: for years, Mozasu was with Etsuko, whom Sunja always treated well; and she showed respect to Naomi, Solomon’s former Japanese girlfriend. Why can’t Sunja have a Japanese friend when so many of her loved ones are no longer around? Later on, Sunja casually flips through travel brochures, showing her quiet resistance.

Pinball Thoughts

It’s intriguing that over the past three weeks, Hansu’s father-in-law has been the focus of much attention, being the only one with power to challenge and intimidate Koh Hansu, a formidable figure. However, we haven’t seen any glimpses of Hansu’s wife during this time. In Lee’s book, Hansu’s Japanese family is mostly detached from Sunja’s world, symbolizing how disconnected Hansu’s true life is from the Baek family, even in instances when they may appear close. A significant exception to this detachment occurs later in Sunja’s narrative, but I won’t reveal that detail here to avoid spoilers.

It’s intriguing too that even though Kyunghee seems more saint-like among the characters, when Kim Changho requests her presence, it’s as if a single spotlight shines only on him – like he’s a divine intervention, or perhaps a tragic hero in an opera whose leading lady is none other than Kyunghee. (First person: I find it fascinating that even though Kyunghee appears saint-like among the characters, when Kim Changho asks for her company, it feels as if a solitary spotlight highlights him – as if he’s a divine gift or a tragic hero in an opera whose leading lady is none other than Kyunghee.)

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2024-10-04 17:55