@WEnchanteur commented,

Some lines are heavy expo dump, a bit clumsy. (mostly the part in the village)
But now, I think audience don’t really care about that. One could say it feels not natural, but after observing that in many series, I think it’s simply not effective. As it creates a low dramatic moment, somehow, we don’t memorize well the information. For example, the dialog about the fact she doesn’t care about indendence movement and want to go in america works well about those two points, but not about many other explanations in excess.

I could also mention the moment when she says she stole bread, but never said it to her acolyte. Highly improbable. The writer tries to hide that by showing the surprise of the acolyte, but it’s just too apparent and doesnt work. (I don’t know how it’s called, something like lampshading).

Here are my 5 takeaways from the village…err…I’ll just call it as I see it… slum scenes.

1. It gives me Charles Dickens’ “Oliver Twist” vibes.

Oliver Twist was an orphan trained to be a pickpocket, and given shelter along with other “stray” kids by a Mean Boss. The memorable tagline from the movie was Oliver Twist asking for more gruel: “Please sir I want some more.”

That’s what the kids were duplicating in this kdrama. They were orphans pickpocketing to earn their daily meal, just like Oliver Twist and his buddies did in 1830s Britain.

Though it isn’t directly revealed in a dialogue, if you know a bit if Korean history, you can gather from the slum sequences that these kids were living in the area because of the hardship of the Japanese occupation.

For one, the orphans could have lost their parents when the parents joined the independence movement (like the parents of GG’s sidekick No Ma) or when the Japanese went from village to village killing innocent adults.

For another, they could have lost their parents from an outbreak of infectious diseases (like the parents of the little girl Kkot-nim). Of course, hospitals existed during the Japanese occupation, but they mostly served Japanese and the Korean elites. The poor Koreans had to deal with lack of medical access as well as unsanitary living conditions on their own.

So, the slum sequences are the director’s way of “showing, not telling” GG’s reality. She has to coexist with other orphans like her, and a gross boss of the pickpockets.

2. Any day soon, GaGyeon (GG) could become a victim of sexual assault.

The boss of the pickpockets already threatened her.

To be honest, I’m quite surprised that neither she nor Soran had been assaulted yet. Japanese military was known to round up women, rape them, and/or force them to sex slavery.

3. She learned English from working as a housemaid for American missionaries.

Yes, she stole bread, denied it, and made her employers feel guilty for “wrongly” accusing her of theft.

To me, the point of this exposition, my dear @WEnchanteur, is to show the difference between her previous employers — the easily deceived and kind-hearted American missionaries — and Sato Hideo.

Hideo was once a Korean pickpocket like her so he gets her. He wouldn’t be easily deceived and moved by her tears like the gullible Americans were. He knows she lies about her servant identity and his missing wallet.

4. She has dreams of going to America.

😂

5. As I explained about the symbolism of the Keijo train station, there are two worlds in Joseon at that time.

On one side, there’s the world of the freedom-fighters and self-independence activists like SoRan, Suzuki, and Philip Yoo. They’re mostly intellectuals, educated folks (like the doctor in the hospital where SoRan was treated for fake miscarriage, and SoRan’s first husband who was a teacher), and expats (like Philip Yoo).

However, on the other side, there’s the world of the poor, peopled by GG, GG’s sidekick (No Ma), Kott-nim, and other slum dwellers, whose primary goal is to get by in life. They don’t care who the government heads are as long as they can eat, sleep, and live another day.

What I’m saying, @WEnchanteur, is that the fight for independence isn’t a monolithic movement that united the whole peninsula. No, far from it.

In fact, there were many in the elite class (and the non-elite class, too, to be fair) who colluded with the Japanese colonizers. Remember that recent “scandal” involving this Korean actress Ha Young whose grandfather – a medical doctor she bragged about on tv – was discovered to be a Japanese sympathizer? She and her family are hardly an exception.

To me, the slum area represents the marginalized folks during that colonized period. No matter who’s in power in the government, their pressing concern is how to survive poverty.

They couldn’t care less about Soran’s vengeance or her comrades in the struggle for independence or Philip Yoo’s noble and romantic pursuits.

And to me, the director made a deliberate point to show the stark contrast between GG’s and Soran’s world.

Immediately after the slum sequence, the camera cuts to a black taxi dropping Philip Yoo and Soran at their gated, western-style, red brick mansion. Their arrival is so VISUALLY different from GG and No Ma’s dusty trek uphill to the slums and their rickety shack, that it’s impossible to miss what the director is alluding to.

Viola les deux mondes.

GG’s residence: a bustling, but not-so-safe haven for GG and her made-up family of three.

Soran’s residence: a barren, safe house for her pretend family of two.

 Do you get it now? 🙂 If I juxtapose the images like that, it’s clear to see why the slum sequences are important to the story.