The President's Last Bang

The English-release title "The President's Last Bang" may sound like an artless literal translation of the original Korean, but I'm informed by those who speak the ancestral language (thanks, Mom and Dad) that "Geuddae geusaramdeul" actually means "The People of That Time," or, more concisely, "Those People, Then." It's a title that resonates deeply for South Koreans: On the night of October 26, 1979, shortly before he was assassinated, President Park Chung-hee was being entertained at dinner by a young singer named Shim Soo-bong, who had made a splash in a college singing contest with a song called "Geuddae geusaram" - literally, "That Person, Then." Shim reportedly sang that song to Park that fateful night; as a result, both she and the song became inextricably linked to the Park killing. Hence the movie title, "Those People, Then."

One of those "people then" was, of course, President Park, along with the director of the Korean Central Intelligence Agency, Kim Jae-kyu, who led the assassins and who personally shot the president (and ended up being executed for it). As portrayed in this film, KCIA Director Kim is pent up with rage and frustration; his liver is shot to hell, he feels his country is shot to hell, and he's convinced that the president and his chief bodyguard both deserve to be shot to hell as well.

"The President's Last Bang" has been billed as a black comedy; some American reviewers have even likened it to Kubrick's "Dr. Strangelove," which kind of threw me. I would say, it's a very wry take on a deadly serious episode of recent Korean history. I suspect much of it comes across as absurd because the real-life events it was based on were so horrifyingly absurd.

Deliberately, deliciously absurd moments abound, like the schoolchildren who refuse to stand still for the playing of the national anthem, but maybe some critics saw signs of comedy where none really exist (oh, those crazy Koreans!). For example, one reviewer was highly amused by what he saw as Kim's bungling when he supposedly runs out of bullets at the start of the assassination and must run outside to fetch another gun. Actually, Kim has plenty of bullets; it's just that his gun jammed. That's not ineptitude, just bad luck on his part.

Although the main focus of the film is the president and the KCIA director, it's also worth noting characters like gum-chewing KCIA Chief Agent Ju, whose primary job consists of procuring young women for the president's personal entertainment; his disgust with the task, with the women who agree to be a party to it, and with himself is palpable. There's also Mr. Shim, the guesthouse caretaker who's as silent as a butler and seemingly privy to everything that's going on. There's the older woman who's seen at the beginning of the film, lodging a complaint about the way her daughter was treated by the president during a bedroom date; we hear her again at the end of the film, offering a sardonic post-assassination wrapup (shades of Costa-Gavras' "Z"). And then there are the two young women, brought together for the first time, who are destined to witness the assassination close-up; afterward, they end up lounging around in a side room, chatting like college roommates.

From my peculiar American point of view, one wickedly fun moment is when Park and his top aides, chatting over dinner, start bad-mouthing not only the American ambassador to Seoul, but also then-U.S. President Jimmy Carter; such scenes crackle with a you-are-there authenticity. It's also morbidly fascinating to listen to the movie's Park Chung-hee rationalize his authoritarian rule by noting that he tolerates a certain degree of political opposition (there's a direct reference to Kim Young-sam, who was fated to become president himself years later).

As for the president's "last bang," fans of the late President Park may actually admire the way he goes out in this film. He shows no fear; he meets his fate as the tough old bird he was reputed to be.

A passing note: Whenever Korean subtitles appear, it's because the characters are speaking in Japanese (one of the fringe benefits of Japanese colonial rule being coerced bilingualism).

Final thought: Could the fractured-English title "The President's Last Bang" be a deliberate Borat-like joke on the part of a Korean who speaks English all too well?

I saw this recently at the Toronto International Film Festival to a packed house with the director present. I liked it.

It comes across as a fictionalized account of the events leading up to the the 1979 president's assassination. It was believable, suspenseful, and occasionally funny, if you can imagine that! This was the work of someone who really cared to bring a defining historical moment into the modern psyche, to raise some important questions about Korean society.

In my mind, this is what movies should be about -- defining moments of time. And crafting a story that allows the viewer to be drawn into the circumstances, to be shown a view of how things may have happened without being dogmatic or overly judgmental. Kudos to the director to crafting an even-keeled drama that, I suspect is accessible to a large international audience.

The original, translated name of Geuddae geusaramdeul (aka: The President's Last Bang) is apparently 'those people, then.' The change, made for the English language market, unfortunately replaces a title significant to locals as the name of a particular song, played that fateful night by a singer invited to entertain the doomed presidential dinner party. The flippancy of the substitution is perhaps one reason why western critics have pointed up the black humour of Im Sang-soo's film so consistently. Formerly best known for light sex dramas such as Chunyudleui jeonyuksiksah (aka: Girl's Night Out, 1998) and Nunmul (aka: Tears, 2000), The President's Last Bang is the second in a trilogy of films dealing with the situation of South Korea from the 1970s to today and has proved to be, at least at home, the most controversial of Sang-soo's work. Apparently descendants and supporters of the dead president's party took exception to some documentary elements contained within the movie, which were duly cut from the initial Korean release as well as for some exports. (The UK version is complete.) Ironically, the director was also attacked by left wingers for creating a too-favourable portrait of a despised dictator. To such an extent, as the director attests in the interview which accompanies Last Bang on disc, that he was given a personal bodyguard after the premiere.

Assuming much of the political background to Im Sang-soo's drama will be relatively new to them, UK viewers will find much less to get worked up about, and the film contains none of the censorable material which has occupied the BBFC in the films of Korean directors such as, say, Kim Ki-Duk. Having said that, whether its the presidential bodyguards coming without bullets, the KCIA chief dozing with a hole in his sock or the two noodle eaters overhearing the President's autopsy with open mouths, there's no denying the elements of black humour in Last Bang, even if such moments should not be made too much of. Ultimately it's a political drama we have here, the staging of which the director sees as influenced by such mafia-grounded Hollywood titles as Goodfellas and The Godfather. At the same time, as the director says, it attempts to "analyse the psychological burden" of the dark years of tyranny as well as "provide a funeral for the president and all he left behind." Chauvinistic and fascist, the memories of Chin-Lee's regime still pervade South Korea today. The director was able to base a good deal of his film on the notes of the detailed official enquiry following the incident at the Blue House. For other elements he used his imagination. He and his art director for instance did not hesitate to jettison the idea of an accurate representation of the Blue House as it was, in favour of something more aesthetically appealing. From this point of view Last Bang differs in its documentary feel from such related films as Downfall, a film where the claustrophobic, last days of a regime are also examined. But while President Chin-Lee is the centre of attention of the Korean film, his character and psychology is not explored in depth, apart from a revealing discussion over the weaknesses of western notions of democracy. Instead, Sang-Soo focuses a good deal on the KCIA chief and his main agent, and one is never quite sure between them where fact ends and director's fancy begins.

Therein lies the film's weakness. Its in the lack of a convincing documentary feel, allied to characters at the drama's centre who may have been historically present and participant in unfolding events, but at best struggle to rise about the whimsical elements of their portraits (Ju's compulsive gum chewing for instance). At worst, the writing suggests little of the angst such a plot surely engendered - something which the recent Valkyrie managed for instance, with all its faults. Last Bang ends with a dispassionate voice-over, wrapping up the fate of those involved and some shots of the state funeral. At the end of Downfall, although we know or can guess the fate of many, we are critically involved learning what became of those present. Last Bang's closing narrative, curiously uninformative, leaves us mildly disinterested, even given our lack of local political knowledge.

Having said that, Im Sang-Soo's film is reasonably absorbing throughout, and it pulls off some noteworthy moments - such as the Da Palma-esquire ceiling-high tracking shot, which travels slowly above rooms and various corpses. There's another long tracking shot, this time a horizontal flow through the Blue House, which arguably shows one influence of Goodfellas.

My feeling on the overall direction of the Presidents Last Bang was that it was all done; it seemed to flow right along pretty well. Although it was not nearly as good of a film as Oldboy was. This film used many different ways of keeping you interested in the film. I also thought that it was interesting all the different locations they used, and the actors and wardrobe. Wow you can see how much work it took to make this film, almost every scene was so illustrated, it was amazing. One thing I noticed a lot of was the movie jumped a lot from one location to another, causing some confusion for myself at times. However I truly enjoyed this film mainly because of the actors. There were so many different actors, with different personalities, and a little horseplay that went along with the film. The lighting of this film, was well done as well, I wasn't so much impressed by that but just by the art of each scene that the director showed. If I had to rate this film, I would give it a 7. Because of all the work that went into making the film, the storyline was good, and the actors were great. The camera work was also neat. He used so many different angles and movements. It gave you a lot better quality. This also played into the production quality which was also great. This was a well done film. Props to the Director and his crew.

Korean cinema has made leaps and bounds in recent years. Though The President's Last Bang is slightly inferior to more recommendable Korean films, it is still a superb example in storytelling.

The autocratic President Park lives the life of a typical dictator; opulent surroundings, promiscuous women and complete authority. As such, the state of the country is becoming more and more disgusting to the chief of secret police, Director Kim. On October 26, 1979, Kim concludes enough is enough and conspires with his loyal deputies. What follows are the fateful actions of those involved.

The President's Last Bang created quite a controversy in its native South Korea when it was released due to divided public opinion on the former president. Filmwise, the movie is well done, idiosyncratic and morbidly humorous. When was the last time regicide made you laugh, caused compassion and intrigued? It doesn't matter, go and see The President's Last Bang.