Kim Dae-Woo Talks 음란서생 (Forbidden Quest)

After a few years of hardly impressive efforts, like 1994’s 결혼 이야기 2 (Wedding Story 2), an unnecessary sequel of one of the most influential Korean romcoms of the 90s, Kim made his first big splash in the industry with Kim Sang-Jin’s 1996 bittersweet gangster comedy 깡패 수업 (Hoodlum Lessons). Closer to Kitano’s sensibilities while maintaining the wit of ‘funny gangster’-oriented Jopok comedies, it presented director Kim Sang-Jin as one of the most interesting commercial director on the scene. It also continued writer Kim Dae-Woo’s working relationship with the Cinema Service clique of comedy writers and directors, which eventually allowed him to write 투캅스 3 (Two Cops 3), the third and final installment of the saga started by Park Joong-Hoon and Ahn Sung-Gi in 1993 (although a final Two Cops episode with the original cast has been under planning for several years now).

But Kim found his best partner in director Lee Jae-Yong, whose 1998 melodrama 정사 (An Affair) brought veteran Lee Mi-Sook back to Chungmuro after a decade, and showed you could have great sexual intensity without resorting to the sleaze of 80s erotic melodramas. Playing a bored married woman in her late 30s, Lee had great chemistry with his love affair partner Lee Jung-Jae, and essentially started a second career thanks to the film. While Director Lee went his own way with the 2000 Japan-Korea coproduction 순애보 (Asako in Ruby Shoes), writer Kim wrote a little comedy with a very promising director, Kim Ji-Woon of the cult black comedy 조용한 가족 (The Quiet Family). The first leading role of an actor who needed just a big hit to become a huge star, the film mixed familiar comedy elements with something Koreans weren’t quite used to: professional wrestling. That actor was Song Kang-Ho, his first big chance to make it big, 반칙왕 (The Foul King).

The great thing about Kim Ji-Woon’s glorious 2000 comedy wasn’t just Song Kang-Ho’s ad-lib genius, helped immensely by veterans like Jang Hang-Seon and Shin Gu, and younger colleagues like Park Sang-Myung and Lee Won-Jong. It was his ability to perfectly capture the struggle of the average salaryman in Korea, in the strongest cinematic statement about the matter since Lee Myung-Se’s genial 1995 film 남자는 괴로워 (Bitter and Sweet). Im Dae-Ho, a shy dreamer looking for something in life where he can express his frustration, takes up professional wrestling all of a sudden. And whereas at work he has to suffer the humiliation of poor performances and embarrassing displays next to colleagues and superiors, in the ring he becomes the King. Asura X, the Foul King, to be precise. Still the best Korean comedy of the last 10 years—with the possible exception of Song Neung-Han’s side-splittingly funny 1997 ‘gangster comedy’ 넘버 3 (No. 3)—the film mixed perfectly intelligent social commentary, dorky nostalgia, and a big sense of catharsis, complete with silly ‘back to reality’ finale.

But what opened the door for Kim Dae-Woo as a director was certainly 2003’s 스캔들 (Untold Scandal). Working once again with director Lee Jae-Yong, Kim drew one of the most interesting Historical Dramas of recent memory, supporting the painstaking attention to details (lavish production design, fantastic costumes, music) with a more down to earth rendition of the Joseon Dynasty. Removing the sleaze from the sex appeal of 80s erotic melodramas, mixed with some intrigue of traditional 사극 (Sageuk, Historical Dramas), ‘Untold Scandal’ was one of the first, one of the best Fusion Dramas. And just like most of Kim’s other works, the film was about finding happiness, finding a new impulse which makes the life of the characters a better place. And happiness is again the main theme of his debut film 음란서생 (Forbidden Quest), smartly covering its core with layers of sex appeal and the seductive atmosphere created by films like this. Because as Kim often says, ‘Forbidden Quest’ is not about sex, sexuality or even the erotic novels at the center of the film’s plot. It’s about finding happiness, something which makes life worth living again.

With the film debuting at No. 1 on this week’s Box Office, director Kim Dae-Woo talked with nKino about his first film, and the experiences he made working on it. Here’s a few highlights:

How many times did you re-write the script?
Director Kim Dae-Woo: About 16? But then again, while shooting I kept fixing it, so you could say around 20-30 times.

Looking at the rough draft and the finished film, what’s the biggest difference?
Kim: Well, technically speaking the running time is a lot shorter. Especially parts explaining the role of eunuchs or giving them more emotional space to move were much more emphasized at the beginning. But because of the constant pressure of time, I couldn’t help but cut out many of those elements.

Since Han Suk-Gyu’s character in the film is a novelist, many people think of Yoon-Seo as a sort of ‘super ego’ you used to convey your struggles as a writer. How much of your personal experience influenced the story?
Kim: Of all the happiness and sad moments I experienced while working as a writer, I think I was more influenced by the happy aspects of that period of my career. But that was only a minor influence, I didn’t really plan to project my experiences as a writer into the characters more than that. I never really thought of making parodies or arguing about the industry or other details regarding the profession. It was just one of the many elements I used to bring a smile to viewers, so if that worked, I can only be happy about it.

Yoon-Seo might be a timid man, but at the same time he wants to become the best in the ‘erotic culture’ field. So if you look at his disposition that way, Yoon-Seo reminds of Im Dae-Ho (Song Kang-Ho) in 반칙왕 (The Foul King).
Kim: That’s something we thought about ever since the planning stages. If ‘The Foul King’ was about finding happiness, ‘Forbidden Quest’ adds an element of responsibility to that happiness, which is where the two films might differ in their message. So essentially I wasn’t simply trying to develop that kind of story, but also giving it another colour.

‘Forbidden Quest’ might be a Sageuk on paper, but it felt more like a modern comedy you could enjoy. I was impressed by the fact the film has none of the ‘weight’ of traditional Sageuk, but on the other hand this lightweight feeling might end up betraying people’s expectations, so that was a big risk and burden for you to take, it seems. Did you decide to opt for this lightweight mood from the beginning?
Kim: That’s was exactly what we were going for, both our intention and major selling point. So no matter if there were any dissenting opinions, it was something they had to take care of as it was the intention of the producers and director. And that’s because we were banking on this concept from the beginning. Actually people have certain preconceptions when it comes to Sageuk: they say “a Sageuk should have this and that”, so that influences people’s expectations, and at the end even guides the choices of famous Sageuk writers on TV. It’s true those are great writers and that their masterful works are something we should learn from, but what they do is not something you can define with only a couple of genre tropes. That’s why we reflected long and hard about what direction to take, whether creating something a little more energetic and powerful, or as solemn and heavy as traditional Sageuk. Just like there’s many genres in films with modern settings, the same can be said for Sageuk.

What really impressed me watching the film was finding things I couldn’t see in the script, like that creativity and imagination, the clever way the film flows from beginning to end. A good example would be Yoon-Seo explaining the various aspect of physical contact between people to Gwang-Heon (Lee Beom-Soo), and the film’s use of CG to show that.
Kim: I wanted to use CG on a few instances. While deciding that, I thought that translating the speech pattern of 양반 (yangban, literati) into a more active visual sense, while at the same time maintaining their sense of dignity, was an interesting way of approaching the matter. Trying to find a compromise wasn’t easy, but I thought making the kids come into play to display that would have been fun. That’s something Han and Lee did themselves, and doing that was the perfect compromise between maintaining their dignified ways and showing what really happened in real life when two people are in a situation like that.

The actors must have felt quite confused about that scene.
Kim: Of course at the beginning I asked them how they’d feel about shooting in a certain way, and acted in accordance. But with CG you’re sort of forced to act inside an empty studio, there’s no other way. So doing that kind of scene, the two must have really gone through hell (laughs). We just shot two takes, but even before starting the two were sweating nervously, must have been horrible (laughs).

Perhaps it’s because they’re the central figures in the film, but ‘Forbidden Quest’ feels like a ‘male-oriented’ film, at least that’s the feeling I get. We’re never given any input on what kind of character Jung-Bin (Kim Min-Jung) is, except when she comes into contact with the two men. Was this way of handling things, like a sort of male fantasy, your intention from the beginning?.
Kim: I’ll have to show you another example (laughs). A while ago we had Valentine’s Day, so let’s imagine there’s a husband who on the way home from his company sees many people with flowers, and then he realizes it might be Valentine’s Day after all. So he goes to a flower shop, picks an ordinary bouquet without putting too much thought into it, and then goes home. Then we have another man, whose wife said to come home early because it was Valentine’s Day, but at the end he couldn’t do that. So he draws flowers on a paper, and once home gives that piece of paper to his wife, and goes to sleep. If I had to choose between the two situations, ‘Forbidden Quest’ would be the latter. When you think about it, the film might seem devoid of consideration for women, but going beyond the surface you’ll see it’s a heartfelt confession by men who love women. We all call them ‘love’, but there’s many different ways of expressing that feeling. There’s the King’s (Ahn Nae-Sang) impossibility to obtain love, or Eunuch Jo (Kim Roi-Ha) and his impossibility to keep that love intact. But also Yoon-Seo’s sorrow, for not being able to express his sentiments due to circumstances. I think this is a film showing with sincerity how men approach their expression of love. I never thought of drawing Jung-Bin as a male fantasy, I think she’s quite real.

You always make allusions to this sense of happiness when discussing the film. Can we call happiness the leit motif of your film?
Kim: In any way, I make films to be happy, and since it’s something we all need to live a better life, it’s also something I wanted people to feel.

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