Gag Man |
‘Backchannels’
is the where super-enthusiasts with a techo bent and possibly infinite patience
(for preservation) and love (for such things as fan subtitling) come into their
own and good luck to them. While ever the only copy available happens to be
from a damaged 16mm print located in a backwoods film exchange, a TV station
that has converted to digital or a place where films are taken to be disposed
of by fire or the like then the collector will accept it for the sake of current
completeness. Who knows when some real rights holder will dig down into their
cellar and come up with the negative of Sidney Lumet’s A View from the Bridge. In the meantime all we have to go on is something on Youtube.
But, I
digress. All this is prompted by observing the randomness of how the retrieval
and restoration sector goes about its business. So let me start here. Until
only a few days ago, I have never been aware of the entrants for Bologna’s
Annual DVD Awards. The winners have been known but not the entrants or the
finalists. Maybe the Cineteca always released a list like this of
the thirty finalists that will judged by the all male white-haired jury
again in 2017. Whatever, it causes me to wonder whether this is the first time
anything from the Antipodes has ever got this far in the competition. The
superb selection
of shorts by Kiwi experimentalist Len Lye and a restoration by the NFSA of
Philip Noyce’s Aquarius festival doco Good
Afternoon from 1971 have both got through into this group.
Look around
the list of the finalists though and you discover just how random the whole
process is. If you were choosing to restore something would it be these films
or would it be one of a million others. Everyone would have their own thoughts
and nobody can keep up even with knowing what’s on offer notwithstanding the
efforts of a few, most notably Jonathan Rosenbaum in his inevitably endlessly
rambling columns of his Global
Discoveries on DVD which feature in
the Canadian journal Cinema Scope.
Lee Myung-se |
So, another
quick segue, what can I say about Gag
Man, a new Blu-ray issued by the
Korean Film Archive, a copy of which was sent to me by Tony Rayns who
contributes an essay in English to the booklet which is included in the
package. Gag Man was made in 1989 and
was the official debut of Lee Myung-se. Lee has made nine features all up, the
last M being made in 2007. Only a
couple of years before that he had a mega-hit with the thriller Nowhere to Hide.
Gag Man is presented as one of the first films by a
young director influenced by things that have taken place outside the country
of origin. It’s easy to spot the homages to Chaplin, Coppola, George Gershwin
and Michel Legrand. In most cases Lee has simply swiped their music. New Waves
land everywhere and this film, along with early films by Jang Sun-woo and
Park Kwang-su, is a clearly defined
moment in the progress of South Korean production from the long time hidebound
and protected Chungmuro studio cartel to the somewhat more freewheeling production
conditions of today where everything from smart student feature productions to a
sector of indie work heavy on oppositional politics seems to vie for attention.
Gag Man’s story concerns a young comedian with a Charlie
Chaplin moustache and a burning ambition to move on from compering the show in
some dive night club to writing a script for a movie. Early efforts to attract
the attention of a famous director have some funny bits of business around a
movie studio. But throughout its two hour length the film keeps returning to
the lack of reality. The comedian and the two cohorts he enlists in his schemes
take on all comers but that’s their ambition on display. The end has a sadder
feel which I wont spoil notwithstanding that it’s probably near impossible for
most to get hold of the disc. Along the way, the trio turn into amateur bank
robbers and spend much time daydreaming about bright futures all the way to
Hollywood. It’s funny and sweet and its trio of leads have an easy sense of
timing. You don’t get the impression they are amateurs struggling with the
technicalities of acting.
The Rayns
essay naturally provides an enormous amount of background material on the
conditions of production of the day, the national politics, the restrictions on
young smart talent and especially on how radical the film was in its time.
It spends some very useful effort considering the nature of the daydreaming
structure and the fact that at no stage are we ever quite sure just what is ‘real’
for both the audience and the trio.
The fact
that it has been the subject of some loving restoration work by the Korean
archive would seem to be a further indication of the film’s importance in the
national filmography. The Korean Film Archive has also uploaded the film onto Youtube.
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