The conspicuous lack of a triumphant, resolved ending in "The Brotherhood of War" perfectly illustrates what Kim describes as "post-Armistice division consciousness." Throughout the movie, as the brothers butt heads over Chintae's desire to send Chinjok home, and the latter's refusal to do so alone, it becomes increasingly evident that going home is not enough: the war is not something that can be "left behind," as it permeates every particle of their former lives. The reunion scene of Chinjok and his mother is touching to be sure, but dramatically underwhelming, as Chintae and Yongsin's absences are obvious, as is the devastation of the city that lies in rubble around them. What's more, when Chinjok finally finds Chintae's remains, instead of experiencing cathartic closure he breaks down and speaks of the long 50 years that it has been since they have been together.
The jarringly unresolved loose ends of the film speak to Kim's "schizophrenic temporal and spatial landscape that is Korea," and the two brothers themselves are a useful metaphor of this partition consciousness, as they act as interchangeable units that gradually come to be at odds with each other. Their similar names, and the excavating officer that mixes up Chintae's name with Chinjok's, illustrate their oneness, and serves to present Chinjok's loss of his brother as similarly a loss of himself that he will never be able to regain: something fundamentally changed in his very consciousness. The wedge driven between the brothers mirrors the wedge driven between North and South Korea, and which for neither did the Armistice bring peace or reparation. Postwar Korea is like a purgatory, replete with unresolved problems, and the film starkly presents how enduring and heavy this burden can be.
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