As a seasoned observer of human dynamics and relationships, I must say that Solomon seems to be navigating a labyrinth of complex situations that even the great Minotaur of Crete might find perplexing. The intricate web of business deals, personal connections, and romantic entanglements he finds himself in is truly a sight to behold.
Pachinko” is richly layered, not just in terms of plot and character development, but also in historical context and depth. The season finale featured a mini-documentary consisting of interviews with real Korean women who had experienced circumstances similar to Sunja’s migration to Japan. This additional content served as a compelling endorsement for the power of adaptation, demonstrating how the same narrative can be interpreted and presented in unique ways through different creative minds and mediums, thereby broadening our comprehension of the story.
I’ve previously pointed out the economy of Min Jin Lee’s writing style; her book, despite its lengthy pages, covers over six decades, leaving limited space to delve deeply into any specific timeframe. However, the series delves deep into the minutiae of the Baek family’s daily life across generations. Moreover, it serves to flesh out some of the details that the novel leaves to one’s imagination.
Nagasaki, 1945
Chapter Thirteen begins with a 13-minute black-and-white sequence depicting the week preceding the devastating second American atomic bomb drop on Nagasaki. In this scene, Yoseb is employed at a factory where Japanese workers openly express their hostility towards their Korean colleagues. It’s possible that Yoseb’s patience with these harsh remarks has been strengthened because, indeed, Kyunghee’s care packages have finally reached him! Not long ago, he visited the post office to collect one of them, enjoying the small wildflower Kyunghee had included as a thoughtful touch.
During work hours at the factory, the floor supervisor requests Yoseb to act as a translator for a fresh Korean worker named Taehoon, assigned to clean the floors. In the evening, they share a drink of sake while conversing, although initially Yoseb hesitates about forming a friendship with Taehoon. Later, Yoseb confides in Taehoon that he sees a resemblance between him and his deceased brother Isak; however, Taehoon seems to remember the lively and captivating Mozasu. Taehoon skillfully draws Yoseb into a discussion, and they exchange thoughts on Taehoon’s late father and Yoseb’s optimism for Korea’s withdrawal from the war, which gives him a slightly more patriotic image than he has ever presented before. Taehoon questions if there would be anything to return to, but Yoseb is certain that their country will endure: “I know where I belong,” he explains.
A few days pass, and the boss reveals that an imperial adviser will soon tour the factory, so everyone should behave impeccably; production targets are also significantly increased. Yoseb spots Taehoon picking up a chisel from the floor – perhaps he was emboldened by their recent discussion – and later at the bar attempts to discourage him from using it. Meanwhile, radio broadcasts report the bombing of Hiroshima. Yoseb implores Taehoon to avoid actions that would likely lead to his demise and stresses the immorality of killing. Yoseb feels remorse for discussing Korea with Taehoon, just as he regretted bringing Isak to Japan. However, much like with Isak, there’s little Yoseb can say to alter Taehoon’s resolve. Tragically, when cholera ravaged his village, only Yoseb survived among the 89 inhabitants. Convinced that his survival holds a purpose, Taehoon is determined to act against the Japanese Empire.
On August 9, 1945, as the emperor’s advisor arrives at the factory as expected, Taehoon remains steadfast in his plan. He attempts to dash from the workers and attack the advisor, but Yoseb also makes a move; unfortunately, Taehoon stabs his friend in the melee. The police swiftly apprehend both men, leading Taehoon deeper into the factory while Yoseb is pushed onto a truck’s bed outside. Suddenly, the world becomes unbearably bright. At exactly 11:02, the bomb detonates.
Countryside, 1945
As the sun ascends, a radio transmission heralds Japan’s surrender. In the haze, Yoseb manages to discern Sunja’s face first, followed by Kyunghee’s, which flickers in and out of clarity. The sight of a bandaged and charred Yoseb is undeniably the most gruesome image in the series yet; it elicited an involuntary wince from me. Upon awakening, it’s Koh Hansu who stands by his bedside. Hansu informs him that the war has ended, but they must remain on the farm until Osaka is secure; Korea is out of the question. Yoseb immediately recognizes Hansu as Noa’s father, a fact that only Noa hasn’t yet pieced together. Given the revelations to come, it seems increasingly perilous to have Hansu in their midst…
In simpler terms, Yoseb attempts to defend his stance, but Hansu firmly dismisses it. To begin with, Noa is Yoseb’s son and secondly, he single-handedly rescued everyone in their family. Despite this, Hansu behaves cruelly towards a man who has barely survived an atomic bombing (and a stabbing) merely because Yoseb points out truthful facts about Isak being the only father Noa ever knew, the person who raised him. Hansu contradicts this; he believes Isak raised Noa to be a pauper. When Yoseb shows signs of standing up to kill Hansu despite his weakened state, Hansu reflects Yoseb’s damaged face from the bomb for the first time, an incredibly risky move. I had been beginning to sympathize with Hansu as he helped Sunja and her family maintain some semblance of normalcy during challenging times, and he made persuasive arguments about why Sunja should allow herself to be happy. However, when he arrogantly tells Yoseb that Sunja and Noa belong to him, staring directly into his eyes, revealing his controlling nature, it sent a chill down my spine. Despite being the head of the family, Yoseb claims, Hansu maintains control and will continue to do so because there is no other choice.
Over time, the Baek family begins their departure process. Hansu takes care to ensure Kyunghee is easing Yoseb off pain medication, and both notice Noa seems more subdued than normal. Kyunghee ponders if it’s the thought of returning to Osaka that’s troubling him, as it appears to be affecting almost everyone. In the scene, Sunja and Kim pack, with Kyunghee switching roles with her sister-in-law once she can no longer handle the bandaging. The sorrow in Kim’s eyes is too poignant to watch; I had to avert my gaze. I yearn for a series centered around these two characters. Noa bids farewell to his friend rather casually (no embrace), but they plan to reunite in Osaka.
Upon their arrival, the city lies in ruins, a sea of ashes. Scarcely anything is left of their home, yet Kyunghee discovers an undisturbed box containing her family’s cherished keepsakes. An American soldier gifts Mozasu a pair of aviator-style sunglasses, making him look quite stylish when he wears them.
1950
Life continues as it typically does. The preparation of kimchee by Kyunghee on a chopping board instantly stimulated my taste buds. Yoseb didn’t share the same response; instead, he sent an older Noa back downstairs with the tray of food that Kyunghee had asked her nephew to bring up. Noa appears less like a teenager and more like a young man, and it seems appropriate in casting that Tae Jun Kang, who portrays the older Noa, bears a strong resemblance to Lee Minho, who plays Hansu. Similarly, Mozasu has undergone a transformation reminiscent of the Hulk, which usually occurs in teenage boys after the age of 12. Kim, Kyunghee, and Yangjin have not changed much, and the tense, strained interactions between Kim and Kyunghee, which fill the air with tension, make it hard to believe that Yangjin doesn’t notice it.
In the market, Sunja’s noodle stand is booming. A frequent customer, Mr. Goto, visits for his usual meal. They discuss Sunja’s ambition to open a restaurant, and he offers to help her secure a discounted location near the train station by leveraging a favor from the owner. When Noa arrives, Mr. Goto inquires about the upcoming university entrance exam, subtly increasing the pressure on someone who is clearly aiming for high marks: If he doesn’t succeed, his grandmother will be devastated. It’s hard to imagine a more unhelpful comment to make to someone preparing for a crucial test, whether it’s meant humorously or not.
Goto isn’t alone in bringing up the entrance exam with Noa; everyone seems to be discussing it. On his way back from the noodle stall to his telegram office job, he encounters the tofu vendor who also brings up the topic of the exam and makes some subtle hints about Noa and her daughter, who works nearby. Noa responds politely; she likes the girl. The next day, he visits her at her tofu stall, and they are alone. She serves him a large portion of tofu before, unexpectedly, bringing up the exam again. In a show of confidence and affection, Goto asks her: “What if I don’t pass?” He acknowledges that the odds are against him, as only one student out of seven is admitted to the university. The girl reassures him: He is Noa Baek; there is no way he won’t pass. However, this comment may actually be causing more stress rather than alleviating it since he is trying his best!
As I sat pondering over my chat with Noa, my crush, on that fateful night, Kim and Hansu crossed paths at a local bar. Their discussion veered towards several topics, one of them being Noa’s upcoming entrance exam. However, it was Kim’s desire to move out that seemed more urgent. He questioned, “How much longer do I have to endure this?” The anguish in his eyes was hard to miss, yet Hansu, seemingly devoid of empathy, informed him that he could leave once Noa was comfortably settled at university. Kim’s worry escalated with the ‘what if’ question: “What if he fails?” He even hinted at the possibility of manipulating the exam results to eliminate such a scenario, which seemed to infuriate Hansu. The tension between them was palpable. When Hansu inquired about Sunja’s dedication towards the restaurant, Kim retorted defensively, “Maybe you can let her have this.” Furthermore, he asserted that Hansu didn’t need to instruct him on his job responsibilities; he was well aware of them by now.
It’s not just Kim who doubts Hansu’s power; even his father-in-law has reservations. Upon returning home, Hansu finds his father-in-law in a gathering with ambitious Japanese politicians aiming to establish a powerful new party that would allegedly restore Japan’s honor and grandeur. When Hansu inquires about their strategies and policies, the politicians show little respect towards him, essentially mocking him. They bring up Hansu’s business ties with Americans and insinuate that they are committed to guiding Japan away from communism, America, and Korea. Despite their disregard for his son-in-law, Hansu’s father-in-law vows unrestricted resources to these politicians without further inquiry.
In the interim, Noa studies intensely for his exam until he falls asleep over his papers. Moved by his son’s dedication, Sunja apologizes for the hardships he faces in his studies. However, Noa assures her that they made the right choice by not accepting money from Hansu, as he says, “I didn’t want to go about it that way either,” to Sunja. This moment between them is heartwarming, but on the day of the exam, Noa shows clear signs of anxiety. He appears frozen with fear initially, followed by unease. In the vast examination hall, he recognizes a friend from the countryside who pretends not to notice him. Two minutes slip by before Noa begins writing on his test paper. On this day, June 25th, while Noa is taking the test, their family listens to a radio broadcast that Korea has declared war.
Tokyo, 1989
If Solomon weren’t his usual self, he wouldn’t be coming up with small suggestions, even when things seem to be going smoothly for him. Catching sight of a billboard advertising a driving range from the balcony of his apartment, he suggests this plan to Yoshii during dinner: What if they purchased the land back after the Colton/Shiffley deal collapsed and used it to establish an exclusive, members-only golf club? I’m finding myself overwhelmed by all of Solomon’s ideas for this plot of land – buying it, selling it, flipping it, doing who knows what with it; I believe he should set those thoughts aside and concentrate on cultivating a genuine, loving relationship with Naomi instead. She already seems like she’s too good for him.
In my critique as a moviegoer, I find myself questioning the actions of our protagonist, Solomon, who seems to be on the losing end of a well-orchestrated scheme by none other than his colleague, Naomi. At Shiffley’s meeting with Tom and a high-ranking executive, she eloquently argued for Abe, their longtime collaborator. She posed an intriguing question: “Does loyalty count for nothing?” She urged the firm to grant Abe time to recover financially, even suggesting alternative partners like Hyatt if Colton Hotels were to back out of the deal.
In essence, Solomon is advised by Yoshii to communicate with his girlfriend to alter her actions if the goal is indeed to harm Abe. This information takes Tom aback since he previously had feelings for her. Although she didn’t return the intensity of his affection, she seemed to enjoy the “rebellious” nature of dating him, someone her family wouldn’t approve of. Upon returning home, Solomon finds Naomi asleep in front of the TV. He intended to surprise her but took too long. He carries her to bed like a newlywed and gazes at her with genuine care and affection. I hope they will succeed, although I fear Naomi may be let down soon. For his part, Solomon appears already hurt.
Pinball Thoughts
In a scene between Taehoon and Yoseb, I found the dialogue a bit confusing. When Yoseb says, “May your cup always be full,” and proceeds to pour drink over Yoseb’s sake glass, the metaphor feels heavy-handed and its execution onscreen seems forced. I’m struggling to understand Taehoon’s intended meaning here, as Yoseb doesn’t appear to be wealthy or particularly religious. This dialogue seems more intelligent on paper than it does natural for these characters. There’s an undercurrent of hostility from Taehoon in this line that isn’t apparent elsewhere in their brief relationship, which is unfortunate given its tragic nature. As Hansu points out, it was Yoseb’s quick thinking to intervene with Taehoon that likely saved his life: The truck provided some protection from the bomb explosion.
In this episode, watching Sunja weep as she conversed with Noa brought to mind a passage in Lee’s book hinting at decades where Sunja rarely cried. The author penned, “She was not one who wept easily.” By 1978, the story had progressed past “Chapter Thirteen” in the novel. Although I generally appreciate the show’s creative departures from the book, it appears that Sunja seems more emotionally vulnerable here than in the original narrative; she cries frequently on the show. This could be interpreted as supporting Roxana Hadadi’s observation that “Sunja and Kyunghee primarily handle household duties and fretting,” while the men are granted more intricate personal narratives. This thought-provoking insight!
As a movie enthusiast, I must admit that the interaction between Solomon and Tom feels awkwardly scripted to me, even though I’ve appreciated Jimmi Simpson’s acting abilities in other productions. When these two characters share the screen, it unfortunately jars me out of the narrative immersion because their performances seem overtly theatrical rather than natural.
Read More
- SUI PREDICTION. SUI cryptocurrency
- COW PREDICTION. COW cryptocurrency
- WLD PREDICTION. WLD cryptocurrency
- KSM PREDICTION. KSM cryptocurrency
- W PREDICTION. W cryptocurrency
- Clash Royale: Is It Really ‘Literally Unplayable’?
- Starseed Asnia Trigger Tier List & Reroll Guide
- Exploring the Best Non-Final Fantasy Games That Capture FF’s Magic
- Exploring the Humor and Community Spirit in Deep Rock Galactic: A Reddit Analysis
- What Persona Fans Hope to See in Persona 6 and What Might Disappoint
2024-09-21 01:54