As a long-time fan of Min Jin Lee’s captivating novel, “Pachinko,” I find myself utterly enthralled by the unfolding drama of its characters’ lives in this second season. The intricate web of relationships, ambitions, and conflicts that bind them is nothing short of masterful storytelling.
In a more relaxed and conversational style:
What are Solomon’s thoughts and future actions? What role will he play in relation to Yoshii? How did Sunja recover the pocket watch from Koh Hansu? What ultimately happened to Isak and Noa? (I’m particularly concerned about Noa, especially during the tense scene in “Chapter Eight” where he had to translate for his mother at the police station while officers detained Isak.)
In the second season, similar to the first, we switch between events set in the 1940s and the late 1980s. To better follow these occurrences as they unfold across time, I’ll break them down into separate segments for each episode.
1945
In Chapter Nine, we find ourselves at a wintry train station in Osaka. Clad in a hat and scarf, Hansu is examining a consignment of minerals with a dark hue. It’s the year 1945, and the war is teetering on the brink of resolution: A worried Japanese associate of Hansu, entrusted with guarding the shipment, inquires, “Which side will it be, ultimately? The Soviets or the Americans?”
Seven years have passed since I last saw Sunja in the bustling market, and her business has blossomed into a vibrant enterprise. With a confident demeanor and booming voice, she skillfully navigates the crowd, even boasting regular customers like Mr. Kim, whom I suspect is courting her subtly. If it weren’t for the ominous year of 1945 and Sunja running low on kimchee, I might have believed everything was going splendidly. The boys, Noa and Mozasu, seem to share in this optimism, exchanging knowing glances as a swarm of American planes scatter leaflets written in Japanese across the market, warning Japan of impending doom if they don’t surrender.
One significant emotional theme running through the series Pachinko is the exploration of whether and how an individual can break free from the familial bonds dictating their fate. Prior to Sunja’s birth, Yangjin sought guidance from a shaman in an attempt to lift a family curse that had claimed several infant lives before. From a young age, it becomes apparent that Noa and Mozasu may take contrasting paths in dealing with this issue.
In an unusual playful incident, peers at a school in Japan tease Mozasu about his Korean meal, yet he doesn’t back down. Instead of withdrawing, he silences the criticism by boldly standing up against them. From the top of his desk, he clarifies the contents of his lunchbox to the crowd. “This is beoseot gangjeong, ” he explains. “It’s typically spicier, but there are no more chile peppers.” Despite the lack of heat, it remains a victorious moment. Meanwhile, Noa, facing the same ridicule as his brother, resorts to reading to shield himself from classmates’ cruelty. He eventually confides in the church pastor about the teacher tolerating these hostile acts. The pastor advises him to endure, and later we find out why the teacher might have supported Noa’s silent resistance. A Korean man masquerading as Japanese himself, he suggests that Noa utilize his sharp intellect to pursue higher education and build a new life for himself.
In Noa’s obsession with letters, a trait he inherited from his father who he hopes will return from incarceration, raises another intriguing question that hangs over all characters in this expansive ensemble: the distinction between merely surviving and truly prospering. Koh Hansu might phrase it as survival being essential, but never allowing oneself to be exploited. During dinner with his Japanese father-in-law and a crowd of businessmen in suits, it’s evident that these individuals are connected to the mineral trading we saw in the episode’s initial scene. Despite being crucial to the deal, which provides the military with resources for weapons, Hansu remains an outsider. His Korean heritage and violent past are mentioned and ridiculed; he grits his teeth through the disrespect, and it should be noted that his father-in-law intervenes to vouch for his kindness and encourage him to take a moment away from the table. When he does, he surreptitiously overhears some guests discussing their families having already left the city in anticipation of American arrival.
In this passage, we see that Mozasu demonstrates bravery against a straw doll, but Sunja scolds him for being too skilled with a wooden stick as they need to preserve the doll for future use. Mozasu humorously replies that the goal is to knock down the enemy so they won’t be able to rise again. One of my favorite things about young Mozasu is his knack for making Sunja laugh. During a moment when she looks away, she notices a struggling family. Through her interaction with the Korean immigrant mother, who bears bruises on her arms and has a child in Nagasaki working at a munitions factory, we learn of this hardship. Despite the tough circumstances, the mother remains optimistic and wants to smile for her children. In an impulsive moment, she suggests they collaborate to sell bootleg rice wine on the black market. However, Sunja hesitates until she finds herself cornered by the dire situation: She can hear her son’s hunger pangs at night, and Kyunghee, who understands their desperate predicament, has contemplated leaving worms in their rice rations to fill their stomachs more. Ultimately, they decide to sell rice wine.
In this scene, the camera focuses intently on Sunja as she washes and handles rice, reminiscent of Yangjin’s preparation of white rice for her and Isak in a past season. Here, just like before, Sunja is asserting control over her life, defying passive submission to her circumstances. “I’m skillful at selling,” she tells Kyunghee, and it’s during moments like these that Sunja truly embodies who she is. Naturally, given that we’re in the world of Pachinko, trouble doesn’t stay far: Sunja gets apprehended during a black-market raid. She spends an overnight in jail, but the following day, the judge merely issues her a warning and sets her free.
The mystery of why she was so swiftly pardoned while other first offenders were sentenced to three weeks in jail is solved by the mysterious Mr. Kim, who is waiting for her outside the station. He drives her to a beautiful, big house. At this point in the episode, the letters in my handwritten notes start getting progressively bigger. Eloquently, they announce, “it’S GOING TO BE KOH HANSU.” Sunja holds her breath as he tells her that he’s been watching her; Mr. Kim is not a flirty regular but an employee tasked with keeping an eye on her and the children. It’s Hansu’s curse that, no matter how generously he might be acting or intending to act, he is incapable of doing something for Sunja without coming across as … scary, dangerous, sometimes just plain wrong. He knows the Americans are coming, and he wants Sunja and Kyunghee to take the kids to a house in the countryside which he has set up for them. To no one’s surprise, Sunja won’t go. She doesn’t want to abandon Isak on the chance that he’ll be released from jail. It’s not frustration at the fact that she is refusing safety that gets to Hansu, or even that she is indifferent to his secret devotion: It’s that he can see, maybe for the first time, that Sunja has really come to love Isak, despite the fact that he can’t guarantee her safety. I’d feel bad for him if he weren’t so infuriating.
1989
In the late 1980s Tokyo, Solomon is hatching plans. When we encounter him in “Chapter Nine,” he’s presenting his proposal to some investors for a self-managed fund. The investors express concerns about how his “sympathies” might have affected the deal with the Korean landowner that fell through, to which he responds by suggesting that all parties were too emotionally involved. Yet, it’s not just Solomon’s impartiality they question; they seek clarity on his connection with Yoshii. With an air of unwavering certainty that borders on mania, he asserts: “I have no involvement with that individual.”
Solomon finds it difficult to be discouraged. He gives a former college companion a call, but they’re not interested. Later, he has lunch with his old friend Tetsuya, who shares some disappointing news: despite raising no money at all, Abe-san is receiving Japan’s prestigious Businessman of the Year Award that very evening. To make matters worse, Abe-san is on a mission to thwart Solomon’s endeavors. Fortunately for Solomon, Tetsuya is feeling rather self-satisfied. Although he may have been envious of Solomon’s achievements in the past, now he decides to make a small contribution to his fund – 200 million yen, driven by petty feelings and loyalty. Solomon was one of the few kind kids when Tetsuya was new at school, an act of kindness that Tetsuya never forgets, not even while savoring an expensive omakase meal with gold leaf adorning their abalone sushi, a somewhat over-the-top touch to what is otherwise a delicately executed scene.
In Osaka, Mozasu is debuting a fresh pachinko parlor, and Solomon attends the grand opening. Sunja looks adorable and fashionable in a white tweed skirt suit, and she smiles brightly when Solomon shares the exciting news of Tetsuya’s investment. Taking advantage of the moment, Mozasu informs Solomon that they, along with Sunja, are also jumping into the competition: They present him with a check for 100 million yen, secured from a loan using their new parlor as security. Solomon is aware that Japan’s economic bubble is about to pop, and this check makes him uneasy. However, this is just the beginning of what will turn out to be an eventful evening.
In a cozy parlor, Tetsuya’s phone rings, revealing the voice of Abe-san, who’d just learned about my investment in Solomon’s fund. His warning to “wipe us both out” sent a shiver down my spine, for though vague, it was potent enough to make me hesitate over my investment. Solomon, understandingly, looked as if he was on the verge of exploding. Later, at the grocery store with Sunja, we were there to buy a cake and some plastic cups. The guy behind the cake counter messed up our order, adding insult to injury by suggesting I should learn “proper” Japanese and take my business elsewhere. This final jab sent Solomon over the edge; in a moment reminiscent of his Ivy League education, he angrily retorted, “Who do you think you are? I graduated from Yale University!”
Without a doubt, Solomon isn’t without cause, yet Sunja isn’t pleased by his outburst. She voices her concern by saying, “You startled me tonight,” and the sight of his grandmother’s disapproval is more than he can endure. He appears hurt as he tells her that while he regrets scaring her, he “can’t go on constantly feeling guilty for [her].” He tears apart the check she gave him together with Mozasu and discards it in the trash. Following this, we observe him engaging in a silent confrontation with Abe-san at the award ceremony. It’s immensely gratifying to witness that merely his presence there is enough to disrupt Abe’s composure. The game has begun!
Pinball Thoughts
I absolutely adore the opening sequence of “Pachinko”! I’m thrilled that it’s returning for season two, complete with a fresh tune, dance moves, and stylish wardrobe updates. I always make sure to watch it, without fail.
Read More
- PENDLE PREDICTION. PENDLE cryptocurrency
- CKB PREDICTION. CKB cryptocurrency
- USD VND PREDICTION
- EUR INR PREDICTION
- W PREDICTION. W cryptocurrency
- FIO PREDICTION. FIO cryptocurrency
- GEAR PREDICTION. GEAR cryptocurrency
- USD DKK PREDICTION
- BONE PREDICTION. BONE cryptocurrency
- CSIX PREDICTION. CSIX cryptocurrency
2024-08-23 16:57