Key Developments:

1. Nascent Romance

I’m sorry but I can’t seem to get on board the romance between TaeUng (TU) and GaGyeong (GG) because of the heaviness of the story. Nevertheless, I must mention it.

The episode begins with GG grumbling about Philip Yoo (PY) rudely disconnecting their phone call after all her effort to deliver the message. In English, no less.

But she’s unaware of the gravity of her message. Remember now: in Episode 4 when the Gugukdam were plotting the assassination, one of them (the man who was found bound and gagged in Sato’s car) warned them not to say anything to GG. Thus, GG doesn’t understand the urgency of her message that Sato is still inside the Governor-General Building attending a briefing on the publication of a history book of Joseon.

Sidenote: The Japanese colonial government did authorize the rewriting of Korean history books with the goal of reframing the nation as undeveloped and stagnant. By portraying Korea as unfit for self-governance, Japanese colonizers justified their annexation as “intervention,” and cultural erasure as “assimilation.”

GG leaves the office for the night, and finds TU is standing just outside the door. She quickly expresses shock at seeing him there to cover up for her fear that he could have overheard her on the phone.

GG: Why are you standing here?
YY: Are you going home?
GG: Sorry? You told me to leave for the day.
YY: I forgot I was supposed to treat you well. Let’s go to the photo studio.
GG: The photo studio?
YY: (tugging his collar) I’m going with you to the photo studio. Well, I suppose a photo studio picture is better than a newspaper one. Let’s go. Come with me.
GG: (sighing with relief)

Frankly speaking, I want to believe that TU heard the conversation but opted to play it cool to get more information from GG. I so dislike gullible heroes. However, his body language, i.e., tugging/fiddling with the opposite jacket collar, is typically a sign of nervousness or vulnerability.

Based on his body language, he wants to invite her out but can’t appear like he’s into her. In short, he’s using the photo ID as an excuse to spend more time with her.

At the studio, the photographer asks for his help to get the focus right. He obediently goes under the black cloth.

Photographer: I’ll adjust it, so tell me when it looks clear to you. (talking to GG) Give me a big smile.
GG: (grinning widely)
Photographer: There. Is it clear?
TU: I’m not sure.
Photographer: Let’s try again.
GG: (smiling again)
Photographer: Are you still not sure?
TU: (not answering)

We know what this all means right?

This moment isn’t really about the camera focus. And it isn’t really about TU wanting to secretly observe GG’s smile a little bit longer.

The subtext here is TU’s perception of GG.

His picture of her isn’t very clear (e.g., her image on the viewfinder appears blurry the upside down) because he can’t tell whether to trust her or not (e.g., her smiles are deceiving). Going under the black cloth is a visual metaphor of TU’s internal struggle. He isn’t sure if what he’s seeing is the real deal or a pose for the camera.

That’s why for me it’s immaterial to know whether he overheard her on the phone or not, and how much of what she said on the phone did he actually hear. The issue here is trust. If he trusts her, then he can excuse and overlook whatever she said on the phone call to PY.

Then, NoMa enters the photo studio to deliver soup and GG hides under the black cloth with TU.

I found NoMa’s reaction funny. Seeing the couple under the black cloth, he mutters that they must be crazy about each other. He implies that the couple can’t get their hands off each other that they’re using even this brief interruption to hide under wraps and smooch. Lol. What dirty imagination he has!

But under the black sheet, GG whispers to TU to “please” bear their close physical contact for a moment. She can’t help tearing up when she hears Kkotnim ordering NoMa to hurry up and coughing, on top of that.

TU sees she’s crying and assumes that she’s hiding out of fear of running into an ex-lover after cheating on him. She loses her cool and yells, “What do you think take me for?” She storms out of there.

I find this whole scene important for three reasons.

First, when the camera flashed in her eyes, we saw an image of man holding the flashbulb.

I wonder who he was. Was he just a photographer or her father? And if we’re going with this theory that her mother was Tu’s adoptive mother, was he Sin TaeJin, the pawn ticket owner?

Second, TU finally got under her skin. Ordinarily, she should have brushed aside his insinuation, and said something like, “That’s none of your business” or “How does this concern you?” or “Are you worried that you’re next?” But she flew off the handle.

Her reaction tells me that his good opinion of her has begun to matter.

Third, it’s understandable that she misses her makeshift family.

To me, this is one of the things that sets her apart from the other Gugukdam members. She’s shown with a family who ACTUALLY misses her presence, especially the little girl Kkotnim. I remember this scene from Episode 4 when one of the members, JeongYeop (the one who was bound and gagged), volunteered to ride the bike and assassinate Sato.

JeongYeop: Then I’ll ride the bicycle.
Cheolyong, the bespectacled man: You’ve got three kids, right? Does your family know you do this outside the clinic?
JeongYeop: Not a clue. But if they find out, wouldn’t they be proud? I should take the bike.
Cheolyong: Forget it.

Seriously, if they succeeded in killing Sato, their victory would’ve been short-lived. Another inspector-general would’ve been appointed before they knew it, and crackdowns would be even more brutal. And if they failed in their mission (which they did), the reaction of those three kids would vary. At best, one kid would be proud. Another kid would fear being rounded up by the police. And third kid would question why their father even took part in this movement. For sure, all three would grow up fatherless, and the reality of survival would hit them fast: they would have to scrape by.

I also remember GG’s advice to SoRan in Episode 3 when she first turned down the older woman’s offer to join the resistance.

GG: If you plan to die fighting for independence, don’t have children. Whatever the reason, there’s nothing worse than leaving a child all alone.

2. The gun battle

Six points:

a. Existence of spies

The Japanese must have infiltrated the Gugukdam with a spy of their own. They knew where the planned assassination would take place and had men in civilian clothes stationed in the right spot.

b. Cheolyeong removes his cap

He isn’t afraid to be identified as the assassin = he intends to die for the cause.

Seeing that he removed his cap, I wasn’t surprised to see that he left a message for the Gugukdam. It’s his suicide note.

c. The butler Youngbok is shot.

Okay, I’ll give it to him. He took one for the team. But I still think he’s shady.

d. Minor quibble: Fukuda is a better shot than SR?

Lol.

SR’s bullet — fired from a rifle – managed to graze his face and he was standing in a wide-open street. But Fukuda’s bullet, fired from a pistol, hit her arm, and she was hiding in the shadows of a second-story room.

e. Indirect cause-and-effect

Because the Japanese are rounding up anybody who look like they’re old enough to involved in the assassination, they nab the friend of SR’s ex-husband (SeokJung or SJ) as he’s leaving SJ’s hideout after treating his wound. In turn, SJ is caught, too.

Also, because the Japanese detained NoMa, the little girl Kottnim is left all alone and TU comes across her. He brings her home on his back. I don’t know if TU is able to connect that these are the same people for whom GG shed a few tears in the photo shop.

f. On families 

As TU piggybacks the little girl home, he observes the people living in the shantytown. There’s a mother calling her kids to eat. A tired man throwing his bundle of kindling on the ground to sit on. And a baby cries in the background. There are kids everywhere; three of them run to their father. They greet him “Abuji” and welcome him with bread. His wife joins the kids, and she carries a baby on her back in a podaegi (or blanket). The father carries a jige (or that traditional Korean wooden backpack) on his back.

To me, this passing encounter is a great juxtaposition of two family scenarios on that ill-fated night. While one family welcomes their father home, another family loses their father.

The body of JeongYeop is brought home to his wife. When she lifts the straw mat covering her dead husband, she wails, “Daehan abuji. What in the world happened?”

Do you see the difference between the families? Both women have babies swaddled in their podaegi, but one lost her husband that night in the fight for independence.

BTW, let’s not overlook the name here. Netflix subbed “Daehan abuji” to his given name, “JeongYeop.” I already said that I wished Netflix kept the paedonymic names because these showed the parent’s link his/her child.

I’m not Korean but I thought “Daehan” meant “Great Korea.” JeongYeop named their firstborn after a patriotic word. I googled this and “Daehan” was first used in 1897 when King GoJong officially named the nation, “Daehan Jeguk,” or the “Great Han Empire.” In 1919, the year when Sato massacred the SR’s village, Daehan Minguk was adopted and it meant the Republic of Korea.

Thus, calling JeongYeop, “Daehan abuji”, literally means that he’s the father of a country, and his death, like the death of the bespectacled Cheolyong, symbolically gave birth to the independence of the nation.

Note the way this shot was executed.

Dark forest = the state of the nation under Japanese colonial rule
Small light on the lamp = flicker of hope for independence in a dark world
Lighted face of the widow = the blood and tears of the martyrs will light the way for the nation’s freedom

Remember: cinematography isn’t “pretty pictures.” It’s how the film director uses visual images to convey the story.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

I have to end here. I still have lots to write about but duty calls. 🙂

3. The hierarchy
4. The prison interrogation
5. GG’s rage-quitting
6. The family theme