Much ink (or whatever its digital-age equivalent is) has been spilled over what many regard as the excessive/gratuitous use of violence in today’s film, television and digital media. Netflix's recent release of MY NAME is sure to evoke the same response, for its blood-soaked scenes of gangland gore go well beyond what most traditional Korean crime series depict.
And indeed, any consideration of Netflix’s newest contribution to the genre of Korean Crime series, must necessarily first talk of the place of Violence in Drama.
Some 3,000 years ago, near the end of Homer's epic ILIAD, the poet sings (and we, Homer’s audience, are meant to HEAR AND VISUALIZE — as though we are listening to an old radio show) of how --
"Achilles leapt on the Trojans in fury with terrible shouts. First he got Iphition Otrynteides, the valient leader of a strong force....He was running straight at Achilles when Achilles cut his head clean in two....Darkness covered his eyes and the tires of the Achaian wheelstore his body; and over it Achilles brought down Demoleon stabbing him throughthe helmet and temple: the helmet did not save him but the blade went through and broke the bone, scatteing his brains. Hippodamas lept out of his chariot and tried to escape, but Achilles stabbed him through the back. He died gasping with a bellowing sound like a bull dragged to an altar.... Then he pierced the throat of Dryops and left him lying at his feet.... Tros ran up to grasp his knees begging him for mercy. Poor fool! He did not know that man would never listen: no sweet temper was here, no soft heart, but plain madness....the sword ran under his liver, the liver slipt out, a stream of blood poured over it.... On went Achilles, ran his spear through Mulios, cut down through the head of Echeclos with one blow of the sword, ran his spear through Deucalion.... On went Achilles...Rhigmos was next...a spear stabbed him in the back and rolled him out of the chariot, the horses, terrified, ran off. On Went Achilles...storming over the field like a fury, driving all before him, killing and killing and killing until the earth was a river of blood....The axle of his chariot was soaked with blood, and the handrail was red with spatters of blood and flesh. On went Achilles, with spatters of gore upon his invincible hands." [Homer's Iliad, Book Twenty]
Even thirty centuries later, we can not help reacting to the graphic images conjured in our minds by this scene -- so powerfully (and meticulously) choreographed by the poet's rhythmic words -- with horror, and even terror... but also, at the very same moment, with a mesmerizing awe. And in this moment we understand how Violence can Serve Dramatic Art rather than - as all too often happens - pervert it.
And that is what, in large measure - if at times imperfectly - MY NAME achieves in its scenes of choreographed violence. As horrible as they sometimes are, they serve to illuminate and enhance the eight part series - a series that is part police procedural, part gangland saga, part (a large part) suspenseful mystery, and entirely enthralling.
While it is a Korean production, under Netflix's influence , it departs significantly from most Korean series in this genre. The extreme violence, which far exceeds most Korean shows, seems geared, in part, to appeal to a US audience, inured — as we seem to have become by “this American Life” we now lead — to more nuanced depictions.
The impact of the violence is multiplied by the sheer number of gang members jammed into the scenes of gory slaughter — which only serves to magnify the danger to (and the power of) the protagonist’s lonely struggle for vengeance.
In this way the violence portrayed enhances — indeed is crucial to — the power of the artistic message.
The length too is tailored to our ever declining American attention span. The great two season - thirty two episode (65-70 minutes per episode) Korean crime series, Stranger (which I reviewed some months ago) runs a War-and-Peace- like 35+ hour marathon. Beginning with what seems to be a straight forward murder mystery, it twists and turns, gradually spiraling wider and wider into a biting exploration of the social, economic, political evils that undermine contemporary Korean society. And many other Korean series run a similar length.
In contrast, MY NAME's 6 hours (45 minutes per episode) feel like a 400 meter sprint - from the starting gun (and, unusually for Korean crime, there is, in fact, a real life gun at the heart of the story) to its heart pounding finish. No time to deal with the nuances of economic injustice, the elites' moral hypocrisy, political and financial corruption when the focus of every minute is devoted to survival - and vengeance.
The ensemble cast is uniformly excellent, transforming the stereotypical into the iconic. In particular, Park Hee-Soon's charismatic portrayal of Choi Mu-Jin, the Godfather of the Dongcheon gang is at once complex and riveting. His multilayered, ambiguous relationship with the series' protagonist deepens and enriches the story immeasurably.
For all the fine performances, however, the series belongs finally - and entirely - to Han So-Hee's breathtakingly expressive portrayal of the protagonist, Yoon JiWoo/Oh Hye-Jin. (No elaboration offered here; simply watch her).
Both a part of the rich tradition of Korean Crime Drama, and standing apart from it, MY NAME is unique in its place in the canon. The terrible violence it depicts is only a part — though an essential one — of the place it has earned.