A Woman Judge: What's the Story Here?

Someone recently asked me what distinguishes Korean film. What makes it unique or special? To this, I replied: "It's penchant for turning on a dime." Hong Eun-won's wild A Woman Judge is a prime example. Initially, this 1962 movie seems to be a formulaic flick about a bright young woman (Moon Jeong-suk) fighting against societal -- and family -- expectations as she pursues her passion to be an adjudicator with an eye on the sisterhood in society. Then the movie shifts out of social justice mode and becomes about a sister-in-law (Bang Seong-ja) obsessed with getting a piano and undermining the female judge, even going so far as to set up her brother, the judge's husband (Kim Seok-hun) with a desperate, unmarried secretary (Eom Aeng-ran) who works for her feminist father (Kim Seung-ho) at the construction company. When batty, banana-crazed grandma (Bok Hye Suk) dies, however, the whole feel and focus of the movie changes once again as we're propelled into the courtroom for an old-fashion murder mystery, with the former judge as lead lawyer.

To be sure, your enjoyment of A Woman Judge demands your openness to dropping one genre (melodrama) for another (thriller) then another (courtroom drama) without judgment. Nothing is wasted as you go from one to the next: The sexist doctor-boyfriend (Park Am) will return as a helpful old friend; the disowned, addict child (Chu Seok-yang) of the mother-in-law (Yu Gye-seon) will resurface to disastrous results. Luckily, our now retired lady judge will put all that hard-earned legal training to good use when the situation demands it. Footage may be missing yet A Woman Judge is still three films in one.

Farewell to the Duman River: Im Kwon-Taek's Strong Start

It's kind of amazing that celebrated Korean director Im Kwon-taek's first film, Farewell to the Duman River, led to such an illustrious career. This melodramatic war pic isn't your conventional crowd-pleaser or arthouse crossover with atmospheric music in short supply, an extended chase scene fairly devoid of tension, and periodic jumpcuts that jar the viewer with no clear intent. And yet, Im's maiden voyage into moviemaking is definitely more than watchable, and not just for its feel-good story of revolutionary college students and their endless shootoffs with the Japanese.

What makes Farewell to the Duman River so undeniably delightful is the trio of actresses driving much of the action. Moon Jeong-suk plays a femme fatale supplying the rebels with needed info while Kim Hye-jung captivates as a man-hungry mountain-girl triggered into heat by the wounded hero. Neither woman is a match however for Eom Aeng-ran. In the role of the lead's pregnant girlfriend, she goes from demurely seeing her man off to war to robbing the family safe to turning the tables on an amoral uncle (Heo Jang-kang) to chasing the enemy through the snow with a machinegun and not one ounce of mercy. The gun-fight on skis got me delirious yet nothing beats a good ol' fashioned machine gun mama.

Dongshimcho: Young Mother in Love

Shin Sang-ok's preposterously pulpy Dongshimcho had me reflecting on the difference between melodrama and soap opera, kindred spirits to be sure. Well, in my mind at least, the second genre distinguishes itself with its bounty of complications and coincidences, mostly if not entirely of a romantic nature. Here you can see that impossibly insane intricacy in a minor character like Mr. Kim from Busan (Kim Seung-ho) — who is at once the business associate for Seoul publisher Kim Sang-kyu (Kim Jin-kyu), a rival for the latter Kim's secret love Mrs. Lee (Choi Eun-hie), and a potential buyer of Mrs. Lee's house — as well as in another relatively secondary role like Ok-joo (Do Kum-bong), the main Kim's fiancee who is also a high school acquaintance of Mrs. Lee's daughter Kyung-hee (Eom Aeng-ran) and the daughter herself of Company Chairman Lee (Kim Dong-won) who has funded her beloved's business enterprise which is in jeopardy now because of a loan made to Mrs. Lee so the lonely widow won't lose her house which for various reasons she doesn't want to sell to the earlier mentioned Mr. Kim from out of town (who just happens to be a merry widower).

It's hard to explain but it's not hard to follow though it is hard to believe. Such is life? Well, maybe. I was more interested in period details like phone calls that are received in the local pharmacy, open train windows that frame brokenhearted passengers tearfully looking out in search of the cause of their distress, and various stacks of 8½" x 17" paper which signal accounting and serious work. There's also a surprising amount of screen time spent on watching people get in and out of shoes as they enter various houses. I, for one, wasn't bored. And if the ever-so-friendly realtor looks familiar that may be because you recognize him as the bullying boss in The Hand of Destiny which is more melodrama than soap but similarly so-so.

Rise of the Miniskirt: Nora Noh: Dressed for Success

Many major questions remain unanswered at the end of the "fashion icon" documentary Rise of the Miniskirt: Nora Noh. How could the young dressmaker afford to go to the U.S. to study, following her divorce at age 19? Whatever happened to her Japanese ex-husband? Were there other loves in her life? How did she get to be the first Korean designer to take over the ground-floor windows at Macy's flagship in NYC and what was the reaction from the American press at that time? (Same for her covers on Vogue and Harper's Bazaar!) Who are her fashion progeny? What stores carry her clothes today? Whose wearing her today? But even with these omissions, Rise of the Miniskirt is a pretty informative portrait of the groundbreaking ready-to-wear clothing designer, who lived through the Japanese occupation and the military coup in Korea; a symbol of female liberation who was bringing Western ideas about stylish and pragmatic women's wear to a culture and workplace that was redefining itself after WWII and the Korean War.

Rich with archival footage of and contemporary interviews with longtime clients such as pop singer Yoon Bok-hee and movie stars Eom Aeng-ran and Choi Ji-hee — all wearing Noh's designs both then and now, the film makes you ache to see more from Korea's mid-century culture, like the movies Horse-Year Bride and A Sister's Garden (which used Noh's shop as one of its locations). Some of the clothes are still quite stylish — a long sliced coat in white; pretty much anything Noh wears now in her 80s! Other outfits look dated, even clumpy. (Well, who doesn't have misfires in their past?) But Noh, ever-confident, curious, and questioning, always feels worthy of investigation and celebration. It's easy to see why the stylist Suh Eun-young was inspired to organize a retrospective of Noh's work and why that would, in turn, inspire this documentary. She lives up to her Ibsen namesake well.

The Housemaid: Cheating on Your Wife Means Gambling With Your Life

Checking references for a potential domestic hire? If the candidate's name is Myong-ja (Lee Eun-shim), be sure to talk with her former boyfriend as well as her recent employers. This girl's got serious jealousy issues! In Kim Ki-young's kooky melodrama The Housemaid, all hell breaks loose when this saucy servant starts cooking and cleaning... then screwing the master-of-the-house -- a music teacher named Dong Sik (Kim Jin-kyu) who leads a women's choir at the local factory. What's the best way to deal with her irrational behavior? Try to kill her off with the same rat poison she used to kill your bratty son (Ahn Sung-kee) and you'll end up like Dong's wife (Ju Jeung-nyeo ): a slave to her sewing machine and Myong-ja! Try to defuse her when she explodes and you'll end up like Miss Cho (Eom Aeng-ran): at the wrong end of a very long knife! Whatever you do, don't continue to sleep with her!!! In this movie's crazed reality, Dong Sik's last-ditch attempt to get away leads to his loony lover being latched on to his ankle and bumping her head against every stair along his failed escape. As black-and-white middle-class tragedies go, this one is campy, corny and not too credible.