"The President's Barber" stars our everyman Song Kang Ho, this time as a barber who gains the trust of president Park--but of course, not without mistakes, roadblocks, and traumas.
One thing that struck me was Han-mo's lack of assertive emotion throughout most of the movie. As I reviewed the film to write my blog post, I noticed that nearly every frame I skipped to, Han-mo had the exact same face: expressionless and almost helpless. At first I attributed this to Han-mo's almost humorous mundaneness, but then it occurred to me that there may be more to this. Two things come to mind: perhaps Han-mo's almost docile nature allows him--and his story--to be more relatable for the viewer because we as viewers, like Han-mo, have no power in the film's plot. Secondly, perhaps Han-mo's lack of assertiveness almost allows his character to be a sort of experiment--taking someone who has almost no control/assertion, and putting him in an environment/under circumstances where he is highly controlled. It is only until Han-mo suffers the loss of his son that he begins to gain some emotional authority.
The transition from light and easy-to-watch film to heavy, helpless film is also a recurring theme in this class. This transition often has to do with the presence of the "Other." For instance, when Han-mo's barbershop friend becomes obsessed with American music and enlists in the army, his hopes are squandered when no one is interested in talking to him. Other moments of America in the film are portrayed in black-and-white film; here, the Other is cold, detached, etc.--characteristics of the latter halves of these films. What most obviously characterizes the latter half of the film is the disappearance of Han-mo's son, and his reappearance with a body mutilated from electric shock. Han-mo must spend the rest of the film dealing with the consequences of his son's broken body--the result of his time spent in some Other Limbo, which is never really explained or discussed in depth.
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