A Bouquet of Thirty Million People: No Sight, No Sound

Shin Kyeong-gyun's 1951 drama A Bouquet of Thirty Million People is not your typical silent movie because it was recorded with spoken dialogue then the soundtrack got lost. How that happened I'm not sure since I always thought the two parts were wedded together but what history has bequeathed us is a 48-minute flick — scratched and patched — in which you can make out a general plot despite the complete absence of audio: A young man (Choe Hyeon) is drafted into the military, loses his sight in battle, then regains his vision when his mother donates her own eyes. Are we expected to rejoice or recoil? I'm not totally sure without indicative music. And this movie has lots of music: Army brass, a USO-style concert, a duet between the two romantic leads, and a dance sequence in which little girls dressed like fairies cavort (one assumes to a lovely song).

Hey, maybe it's a musical! After all, like many musicals, the movie also has a central love triangle — this time involving a blinded soldier, his small-town sweetheart, and a military nurse (Hwang Yui-hui). But which woman captures his heart remains a mystery. And let's be honest here: If your mother sacrifices her eyes for you, you're always gonna be a momma's boy. Should a film preservation society eventually hire some talented lip readers to fill in the details, we may eventually learn what he has to say about this...via subtitles.

Black Light: Question Quest

What do you consider the worse fate? Dying in an auto accident or ending up in a coma? Being widowed by a car crash (that may not have been your husband's fault) or being a caretaker for your spouse (who may have caused the other man's death)? Finding out your partner may have been suicidal or realizing that your ex might've had issues with addiction? Having to return to a factory job near the scene of the crime or bumping into the other wife who — like you — has yet to process this life-changing disaster?

Bae Jong-dae's drama certainly is a competition of woes, so much so that other characters like the daughter (Park Ji-hu), the brother, the sister-in-law, and the chummy boss are nothing next to the two central women (played by Yeom Hye-ran and Kim Si-eun). Whether the company is at fault (probably, yes) or the police botched up the original investigation (also, yes) doesn't ultimately natter. Black Light. Every question these women ask of themselves and each other consistently leads to more trouble. The one truth that feels definitive is that big business couldn't give a damn about your quality of life as long as they're making a profit.

A Distant Place: Gay Guys Get Sheepish

What's love got to do with it? Well, Park Kun-young's melancholic romance A Distant Place is the first Korean movie I've seen while snuggling with a Korean-American sweetheart in my bed. I'd share his thoughts on the film but he'd had a long week and fell asleep early on, although his cuddle didn't prevent me from watching this sad little drama 'til the end. His snores weren't commentary! Then again, this cinematic love affair isn't one I'd hope on either of us so I was perfectly fine with him dreaming the night's entertainment away.

The picture's two gay men — a painter-turned-sheepfarmhand (Kang Gil-woo) and a pretty boy poet-turned-teacher (Hong Kyung) — have a tough road ahead of them. Not only is the town less than accepting of any friends of Dorothy but the farmhand's sister (Lee Sang-hee) has reappeared after five years to reclaim the adorable little girl (Kim Si-ha) that he's been raising amidst the sheep. The elderly rancher (Gi Ju-bong) would like his queer handyman and the kid to stay on; the rancher's daughter would like more than that but she also doesn't get bent out of shape when she finds out he'd rather shack up with a dude. As to granny (Choi Geum-soon), she eventually wanders as much as her mind which sets off a series of disastrous events springing out of the cruelty in the closet. Slow-moving but far-from-dull, A Distant Place is a quiet film ideal for quiet nights made quite better by a warm friendly body curled up next to you in bed.

The Fortress: A Royal Mess

As class critiques go, Hwang Dong-hyuk's The Fortress is a devastatingly effective one. This retelling of the 17th century Qing dynasty's invasion of Korea portrays the ruling class as one almost entirely out of touch with the commonfolk; a group of backstabbing lords more committed to appearances (fancy clothes, calvary etiquette, the overall hierarchy) then they are to the people and culture that they're supposedly representing. King Injo (Park Hae-il) is guided by a roomful of ass-kissers and the only two brave enough to speak their opposing truths are the reconciliatory diplomat Choi Myung-gil (Lee Byung-hun) and the military advisor Kim Sang-heon (Kim Yoon-seok) who places integrity higher than life itself. Each man is persuasive in his way yet you begin to suspect that neither is ultimately right.

For as the voice of the people, blacksmith Seo Nal-soi (Go Soo) is able to recognize that these gents are ultimately arguing for a world that still treats the majority of men as war fodder. As such, Seo isn't so much an agitator out to change the system so much as he is someone self-aware enough to recognize that the structure is rotten to its core. Also worth mentioning is orphan girl Naru (Cho Ah-in). This waif — tossed from grandfather to grandfather's murderer to pragmatic metalworker — serves as a powerful reminder that if we're not serving our children's futures with our costly battles then what are we fighting for?