Political art always gets a bad rap. That bias is based on the idea that social commentary, like a critique of fascism for instance, is inherently didactic, that informing us about power structures is somehow a lesser goal that sharing insights about Life or Love or Loss. In reality, great political art still does that too: Through a discourse on society, we can learn about our own inadequacies or the fallacy that the pursuit of happiness is even possible in the purest sense when other oppressive factors come into play. Look at Park Jong-won's Our Twisted Hero. The film is a detailed analysis of fascism as it plays out among a classroom of boys at a country public school but it's also a poignant examination of how even righteous, rebellious spirits can be broken down and seduced by corrupt power systems in ways that will haunt them for the rest of their lives.
By not following the classic underdog narrative and having its infuriated 5th-grader eventually triumph over the class bully, Our Twisted Hero is a painfully accurate recreation of how hard it is to topple corrupt systems of thought and behavior and the lasting damage that's done when you try to stick up for yourself or an ideal only to encounter indifference, shame, betrayal, and ostracism. To actually combat the bullies one needs a commensurate strength, whether that comes in a collaborative groundswell or in a greater hierarchical ally. The lone wolf is an incredibly rare phenomenon, one which Hollywood likes to pretend is secretly each and every one of us but which is probably more like one in a million. Still, you gotta admire the chutzpah of anyone who breaks from the pack (even temporarily) to fight the good fight. We're all capable of that and that's no small thing either.
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