“Brave Citizen” Theatrical Poster
Director: Park Jin-pyo
Cast: Shin Hae-Sun, Lee Jun-Young, Park Jung-Woo, Park Hyuk-Kwon, Cha Chung-Hwa, Lee Chan-Hyeong, Bae Hyeon-Jun, Cha Woo-Min, Lee Joong-Ok
Running Time: 113 min.
By Paul Bramhall
High school power struggles have always been present in cinema, and they usually take the form of an underdog going up against one or more characters who are best described as bullies, worst as violent psychopaths. Korean cinema is no different. Whether it be Kwon Sang-woo taking on a gang of classroom thugs in Once Upon a Time in Highschool, or Jang Hyuk going up against the villainous vice principal in Volcano High, there’s something cathartic about seeing those that take advantage of their status or strength get their just desserts. Those productions fit the classic archetype of the genre, but its 2023’s Brave Citizen that may be the first to frame the story from the perspective of a teacher going head-to-head with the resident school bully. A stand-in teacher at that!
Sure there’s been stories that go for the ‘teacher pushed over the edge’ angle, Miike Takashi’s Lesson of the Evil being a classic example, however for his latest outing director Park Jin-pyo has different ideas. A director that falls into that distinctly Korean category of disappearing for years at a time, Jin-pyo looked to be a regular fixture in Korean cinema during the 2000’s, debuting in 2002 with the controversial Too Young to Die (controversial only because of its portrayal of sex between a 70+ years old couple!). During the rest of the decade he’d helm weighty dramatic fare like 2005’s You Are My Sunshine, 2007’s Voice of a Murderer, and 2009’s Closer to Heaven, before taking a break and re-emerging in 2015 with the decidedly lighter romantic comedy Love Forecast. That was the last we heard of Jin-pyo, until 8 years later he once more returned to the director’s chair in 2023 for his latest, Brave Citizen.
Like so much of Korea’s recent output, from Holy Night: Demon Hunters to My Daughter Is a Zombie, Brave Citizen is based on a webtoon. Written and illustrated by Kim Jung-hyun the manhwa ran from 2014 to 2016, and Jin-pyo’s adaptation marks the first time for it to be brought to the screen. The plot focuses on a substitute teacher, played by Shin Hye-sun (Following, Don’t Buy the Seller), who happens to be a “black belt in taekwondo, hapkido, and former boxing champ.” Why her sports dreams never worked out is gradually revealed as the narrative progresses, however in the latest school she’s been assigned to, her past experiences prove to definitely come in handy.
Ironically flaunting its “Exemplary anti-bullying school” status, Hye-sun soon comes to learn about the resident bully, who has both the students and the teachers at his beck and call. Played by Lee Jun-young (Love and Leashes, Badland Hunters), the fact he’s been kept back a couple of years already makes him an adult, and with a pair of influential parents who also provide funding to the school, no one is willing to risk standing up to his borderline murderous behaviour. That’s bad news for the target of his frequent violent outbursts, another student played by Park Jung-woo (20th Century Girl), who after defending his street food seller grandmother from Jun-young and his lackeys attacks, finds himself at the mercy of their brutality both in and outside the school gates.
While on paper it may sound like Jin-pyo is returning to the weightier dramatic material that he helmed in the 2000’s, onscreen Brave Citizen’s webtoon origins are much clearer to see. The most obvious indicator is Hye-sun’s approach to taking on the bullies. While visiting the gymnasium run by her boxing coach father (played by the always welcome Park Hyuk-kwon – The Girl on a Bulldozer, The Mimic), she catches a glimpse of a collection of animal masks, which he explains are used during the classes he runs for kids. Snatching one away of a cat, Hye-sun decides to don the mask to disguise her identity, freeing her up to confront Jun-young and his gang as a kind of P.E. teacher version of catwoman.
It’s an entertaining gimmick, with Hye-sun making her first masked appearance to take on Jun-young during an evening outdoor basketball game. Without being able to speak for fear of giving herself away, the masked Hye-sun’s speech is limited to a deep voiced “meow”, accompanied by a gestured scratching motion, fully embracing the ridiculousness of the concept. It’s a wise move that sees the big screen adaptation lean heavily into the comedy and action elements, although the plot still takes time to play with serious themes. In particular the element of Hye-sun being a stand-in teacher with hopes of being made permanent echoes the similarly themed Misbehavior from 2017. However whereas Kim Tae-yong’s sophomore feature used the same scenario to create a pressure cooker of violence and jealousy, here the element is used as more of a plot device, serving to keep Mi-sun from intervening while in school.
Like many Korean comedies, especially those from the 2000’s when director Jin-pyo was most active, there’s a tonal whiplash present when it comes to aspects of the violence. The scenes of Jung-woo being bullied are particularly brutal, subjected both to physical brutality and public humiliation, which serve their purpose of making the audience root for Jun-young to get his comeuppance, but it sometimes takes some adjustment when the tone switches back to a more comedic one. I’ve long since realised though that Korean audiences simply have a different threshold for onscreen violence, and how it can be integrated into genres as disparate as comedies to romantic dramas, so these days I feel it’s not so much a case of directorial imbalance as it is a cultural difference.
The best example is highlighted when Hyuk-kwon dons the mask to stand in for his daughter, which we only see the aftermath of when he turns up battered and bruised, delivering the intended laugh. However we then see a flashback to his actual confrontation with Jun-young and his gang, during which he gets the living daylights beaten out of him, being mercilessly stomped while curled up on the floor. At least in my case, I ended up feeling guilty for laughing at the previous scene! What can’t be denied though, is that it’s the mask that allows the narrative to deliver on the promised action, with director Jin-pyo bringing onboard not one but two martial arts directors. The first is regular Ma Dong-seok collaborator Heo Myeong-haeng (Yadang: The Snitch, A Man of Reason), accompanied by regular collaborator Yoong Sung-min (The Roundup: No Way Out, The Roundup: Punishment – which Myeong-haeng notably directed).
Unlike their frequent collaborations with Ma Dong-seok, where you’re usually waiting for the next person to get punched in the face, action isn’t the sole selling point for Brave Citizen, with the fight scenes mainly used to progress the plot rather than acting as action scene showstoppers. Hye-sun convinces in her role, admirably remaining in front of the camera even for most of the masked scenes, and busting out a mean axe kick on more than one occasion. To both Jin-pyo and the casts credit, by the time events culminate in an MMA match between the masked Hye-sun and Jun-young in a boxing ring as the center piece event for a school festival, you’ll be less concerned about the feasibility of such a setup, and more invested in Jun-young receiving his just desserts. It may not be Donnie Yen vs. Hiroyuki Ikeuchi in Ip Man, but it delivers the required narrative beats, and offers up a satisfying conclusion that can’t help but raise a smile.
Who knows when we’ll see another movie with Park Jin-pyo at the helm, however with Brave Citizen he proves that he still has it when it comes to crafting an entertaining slice of mainstream entertainment. Handling its out-there concept with a surprising amount of sincerity, it’s easy to buy into some of the more far-fetched scenario’s thanks to the fact we care about the characters first, and at the end of the day, who doesn’t want to see a stand-in teacher wearing a cat mask giving bullies a taste of their own medicine!?
Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 7/10
