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zeborah(In a good way, as far as I'm concerned: I like it when fiction makes me feel like I've been punched in the gut.)
Spoilers follow for Dae Jang Geum, Damo, and Iljimae
The main thing these three series have in common -- aside from the reason I selected them, which is that they're all set sometime in the Chosun dynasty -- is that they all involve plot arising from Corrupt Government Officials messing with the hero(ine)(s)' parents; and people going into hiding; and the resultant identity tangles. Also, apparently, a firm belief in the "What's the worst thing that could happen to my protagonist right now?" method of plotting.
Dae Jang Geum (gimmick: Mary Sue navigates life as a palace servant, where the politics are so deadly because the stakes are... surprisingly high) actually starts with the parents, so we see the events, and then we see the protagonist of the series grow up, and then the story-today begins only after several episodes. It takes about half the 70-episode series before the identity tangles are worked out (and then just 1 more episode before the death of a character renders all this moot), and then the other half before the Corrupt Government Officials finally get their come-uppance. While there's a great deal of angst during these 70 episodes, there's also a happy ending, which perhaps gave me a false sense of security about the genre.
Damo and Iljimae begin with a flash-forward, then go back to the noble parent being killed by Corrupt Government Officials, then slowly work their way forward through the tangle of long-lost siblings. So much potential for comedy, so much potential for tragedy.
In Damo (gimmick: She's a noble-born slave; he's a nobleman's illegitimate son; together they fight crime!) I had theories of how all the love triangles could resolve themselves happily, and then... You know that character, the comic relief guy who talks about wanting to get back to his wife and adorable daughter? You know how he always gets killed, but always?
He didn't get killed. And then he didn't get killed again. And then he got killed.
And then his adorable daughter got killed.
The Corrupt Government Officials need to re-motivate the anti-hero, so they make it look like the police have massacred everyone in the village he made a second home. So there's the village massacred. And there's the adorable daughter, lying on the ground in a pool of blood with a handful of white and yellow wildflowers beside her.
Then comes the catastrophic defeat and massacre of the hero and heroine's entire troop of police/soldiers -- and the strategy, plot, and cinematography joined to make that a literally stunning thing to watch; and then most everyone else dies, and the villains die, and the hero dies, and the anti-hero and the heroine die. By the end, I could count on one hand the people who were left from a cast of dozens, and none of them were likely to get married to each other.
But it's about when the adorable eight-year-old daughter died that I realised I couldn't count on a happy ending any more.
Iljimae (gimmick: Inigo Montoya meets Robin Hood) seems more light-hearted than Damo. Its flash-forward start involves the title character robbing a nobleman's house with the aid of a rubber mask and an invisibility cloak and culminates in the melodramatic, "For I (dramatic pause) am Iljimae!" We then drop back to the obligatory childhood where the kid's father is killed in front of him, but now that we're working back through the 'present-day' part of the story, even the villains' cruelty and tortures are eclipsed by Iljimae himself as comic relief: lazy, cowardly, inept, and always complaining that his adoptive father's interference is "ruining my image!"
So. About a third of the way through the story, Iljimae comes face-to-face with his long-lost sister while they're both in prison. He's been told that he'll recognise her because of the family resemblance; he doesn't. She's tortured by the Corrupt Government Officials to find out where he is, but even when she works out who he is she doesn't tell. In return, all unknowing, Iljimae reviles her for her alleged adultery.
He gets released; her execution is planned in order to flush him out. He works out who she is and plans a cunning rescue! He befriends the executioner at the local equivalent of a pub and secretly smears honey and a bit of his own blood on the rope she's to be hanged by. Then in the night he manages to get into the prison long enough to release some mice near said rope. Me, I'm thinking, "But won't the Corrupt Government Officials notice that mice have been nibbling the rope?" but hey! Cunning rescue plan!
Next day, a crowd is gathered to watch her hang. The Corrupt Government Officials call on Iljimae to reveal himself in order to save his sister. Iljimae waits; a friend on a horse waits likewise, ready to cause a distraction as soon as she's pushed off her stool and the rope breaks.
There's just one slight problem. The Corrupt Government Officials have noticed that mice have been nibbling the rope. They've fixed the rope. Iljimae's sister dies right in front of him.(*)
Poll: Should I stop trying to work out how the love triangles can work out happily?
a) Yes.
b) Hell, yes.
c) Yes, and here's a box of tissues.
d) Did the fact that Iljimae's love interest is the daughter of his sworn enemy not give you a clue when you read the summary?
(*) Note that, to keep this blog-post finite, I've actually left out at least half of the ironic gut-punch angst involved in this death.
Spoilers follow for Dae Jang Geum, Damo, and Iljimae
The main thing these three series have in common -- aside from the reason I selected them, which is that they're all set sometime in the Chosun dynasty -- is that they all involve plot arising from Corrupt Government Officials messing with the hero(ine)(s)' parents; and people going into hiding; and the resultant identity tangles. Also, apparently, a firm belief in the "What's the worst thing that could happen to my protagonist right now?" method of plotting.
Dae Jang Geum (gimmick: Mary Sue navigates life as a palace servant, where the politics are so deadly because the stakes are... surprisingly high) actually starts with the parents, so we see the events, and then we see the protagonist of the series grow up, and then the story-today begins only after several episodes. It takes about half the 70-episode series before the identity tangles are worked out (and then just 1 more episode before the death of a character renders all this moot), and then the other half before the Corrupt Government Officials finally get their come-uppance. While there's a great deal of angst during these 70 episodes, there's also a happy ending, which perhaps gave me a false sense of security about the genre.
Damo and Iljimae begin with a flash-forward, then go back to the noble parent being killed by Corrupt Government Officials, then slowly work their way forward through the tangle of long-lost siblings. So much potential for comedy, so much potential for tragedy.
In Damo (gimmick: She's a noble-born slave; he's a nobleman's illegitimate son; together they fight crime!) I had theories of how all the love triangles could resolve themselves happily, and then... You know that character, the comic relief guy who talks about wanting to get back to his wife and adorable daughter? You know how he always gets killed, but always?
He didn't get killed. And then he didn't get killed again. And then he got killed.
And then his adorable daughter got killed.
The Corrupt Government Officials need to re-motivate the anti-hero, so they make it look like the police have massacred everyone in the village he made a second home. So there's the village massacred. And there's the adorable daughter, lying on the ground in a pool of blood with a handful of white and yellow wildflowers beside her.
Then comes the catastrophic defeat and massacre of the hero and heroine's entire troop of police/soldiers -- and the strategy, plot, and cinematography joined to make that a literally stunning thing to watch; and then most everyone else dies, and the villains die, and the hero dies, and the anti-hero and the heroine die. By the end, I could count on one hand the people who were left from a cast of dozens, and none of them were likely to get married to each other.
But it's about when the adorable eight-year-old daughter died that I realised I couldn't count on a happy ending any more.
Iljimae (gimmick: Inigo Montoya meets Robin Hood) seems more light-hearted than Damo. Its flash-forward start involves the title character robbing a nobleman's house with the aid of a rubber mask and an invisibility cloak and culminates in the melodramatic, "For I (dramatic pause) am Iljimae!" We then drop back to the obligatory childhood where the kid's father is killed in front of him, but now that we're working back through the 'present-day' part of the story, even the villains' cruelty and tortures are eclipsed by Iljimae himself as comic relief: lazy, cowardly, inept, and always complaining that his adoptive father's interference is "ruining my image!"
So. About a third of the way through the story, Iljimae comes face-to-face with his long-lost sister while they're both in prison. He's been told that he'll recognise her because of the family resemblance; he doesn't. She's tortured by the Corrupt Government Officials to find out where he is, but even when she works out who he is she doesn't tell. In return, all unknowing, Iljimae reviles her for her alleged adultery.
He gets released; her execution is planned in order to flush him out. He works out who she is and plans a cunning rescue! He befriends the executioner at the local equivalent of a pub and secretly smears honey and a bit of his own blood on the rope she's to be hanged by. Then in the night he manages to get into the prison long enough to release some mice near said rope. Me, I'm thinking, "But won't the Corrupt Government Officials notice that mice have been nibbling the rope?" but hey! Cunning rescue plan!
Next day, a crowd is gathered to watch her hang. The Corrupt Government Officials call on Iljimae to reveal himself in order to save his sister. Iljimae waits; a friend on a horse waits likewise, ready to cause a distraction as soon as she's pushed off her stool and the rope breaks.
There's just one slight problem. The Corrupt Government Officials have noticed that mice have been nibbling the rope. They've fixed the rope. Iljimae's sister dies right in front of him.(*)
Poll: Should I stop trying to work out how the love triangles can work out happily?
a) Yes.
b) Hell, yes.
c) Yes, and here's a box of tissues.
d) Did the fact that Iljimae's love interest is the daughter of his sworn enemy not give you a clue when you read the summary?
(*) Note that, to keep this blog-post finite, I've actually left out at least half of the ironic gut-punch angst involved in this death.
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no subject
Date: 2009-09-18 07:39 am (UTC)All of the above. Or perhaps "e) No, of course not" because, you know, it doesn't hurt to try, it only hurts after you realise you've failed.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-19 05:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-19 05:41 am (UTC)I bought the 14-DVD / 3-box set of Dae Jang Geum, and have been watching Damo and Iljimae online (here's a streaming version of Iljimae, fansubbed in English) though I'm very tempted to track down legal copies of them too.