One prominent theme in Ha Ki-Ho’s
2008 film Radio Dayz is role-playing. Most obviously, the actors in the
radio drama “The Flames of Love” perform in several scenes over the course of
the film. However, every prominent character in the film plays at least one
role. Lloyd performs the role of the obedient radio director to his Japanese superiors;
Mr. Noh acts as the competent and successful writer (when in fact he is
incapable of writing endings and all of his works have been flops); the
revolutionary “K” masquerades as a sound engineer. The characters each
construct these roles, and each character’s personal struggles throughout the
film revolve around how and when they should perform.
Perhaps this tension with
performance and role-playing mirrors the efforts of Korean-language
broadcasting to construct a national Korean identity during the the colonial
period. Michael Robinson speaks about this struggle at length in his chapter of
Colonial Modernity in Korea. He says, “the story of Korean radio was
more than one of a single Korean culture resisting Japanese assimilation. It
was also a space of intra-Korean elite struggle over how their culture should
evolve in modern form, a debate decisively shaped by the cultural and political
structures of colonialism” (69). He explains in detail struggles over Korean
content on the airwaves, and points out that there was much debate among
Koreans over what should and should not be allowed on the radio, and thus, what
should be representative of Korean culture.
The film seems to struggle with
this notion of national culture as well. We see frequent tension between Marie
and Myung-wol, the two leading women of “The Flames of Love” who represent the
modern “new woman” and the traditional Korean feminine ideal, respectively. K’s
revolutionary team struggles to find a purpose as an old political group in a modernizing
world, and tries (perhaps in vain) to be taken seriously in the context of the
oppressive Japanese colonial empire. Finally, Mr. Noh and Lloyd struggle to end
the radio drama in a way that will satisfy their Korean audience. And yet, each
character approaches their external struggles with cultural construction from a
manufactured, performed perspective.
The film acknowledges this in its
unique credits sequence, when the actors/characters perform a choreographed
dance on a stage, complete with anachronistic electric guitars and stage
lights. This scene casts doubt on the authenticity of the characters throughout
the film, suggesting that perhaps the film itself was dramatized. Moreover, the
film questions the nature of performance itself, asking us if a dramatized
fiction is still authentic in the impact it has on its audience. Throughout the
film, this audience is shown as the colonial Korean people; however, the credits
sequence forces us to look at ourselves as audience members. In this way, the
film questions cultural construction in general. What does it mean to perform
national culture, and what should the audience take away from this performance?

