Director: Byun Sung-Hyun
Cast: Sol Kyung-Gu, Lee Sun-Kyun, Yoo Jae-Myung, Jo Woo-Jin, Park In-Hwan, Lee Hae-Young, Kim Sung-Oh, Jeon Bae-Su, Seo Eun-Su, Kim Jong-Soo
Running Time: 123 min.
By Paul Bramhall
Most Korean audiences will be familiar with the name Kim Dae-jung, the former president who held office between 1998 and 2003. The culmination of a career in politics spanning over 40 years, Dae-jung had led an eventful life. He escaped 2 death sentences (the 1st when he was captured by North Korean soldiers during the Korean War in 1950, and the 2nd when military strongman Chun Doo-hwan falsely blamed him for the Gwangju Massacre in 1980), survived 2 assassination attempts (the 1st when a truck rammed into his car in 1971, and the 2nd when he was kidnapped from his Tokyo hotel room in 1973 – both attempts coordinated by the Park Chung-hee regime), and spent 1982 to 1985 exiled in the U.S. for his own safety. Following failed presidential campaigns in 1971, 1987, and 1992, Dae-jung finally achieved his dream and became the 8th president of South Korea during the 1997 presidential election.
However far less is known about Eom Chang-rok, the election strategist who worked closely with Dae-jung throughout his earlier presidential campaigns. Chang-rok remained largely in the shadows during his time with Dae-jung, to the point that he’s only given a scant few lines of text in Dae-jung’s own autobiography. The mystery behind their relationship became the source of inspiration for director Byun Sung-hyun’s Kingmaker, in which he re-teams with the star of his 2016 gangster flick The Merciless, Sol Kyung-gu (Idol, Memoir of a Murderer).
It would be Kyung-gu though that expressed discomfort at portraying a former president, so here the names are changed, but for all intents and purposes the character that he plays is that of Dae-jung. Stepping into the role of the election strategist is Lee Sun-kyun (Parasite, Take Point), here playing a pharmacist originally from North Korea. Both have aspirations that center around genuinely making the nation a better place, however Kyung-gu’s small time politician has already lost four elections over the last seven years, and Sun-kyun has no traditionally accessible way into politics with his family background. With a talent for wordsmithing and strategy, after noticing that he and Kyung-gu share many of the same ideals, Sun-kyun offers to work for him to assist in delivering the messaging of them more effectively.
The pair eventually become politician and strategist, however Sun-kyun’s methods aren’t only limited to creating rousing speeches, also showing a willingness to play dirty and sabotage the opposition parties plans or muddy their name regardless of the truth. Kyung-gu knows some of the tactics being deployed are underhand, but he lets them go primarily because he’d likely stand much less of a chance without them, but also because he knows he doesn’t possess the same killer instinct that Sun-kyun has. For the most part Sun-kyun is happy to remain in the shadows, however as tensions rise with the election drawing nearer, his firm belief that the end justifies the means brings into question just how far he’s willing to go to see Kyung-gu win.
South Korea’s tumultuous political history has provided plenty of fertile ground in the world of cinema over recent years, from 2017’s 1987: When the Day Comes to 2020’s The Man Standing Next. While such productions normally take the form of ensemble pieces, Kingmaker goes in somewhat of a different direction, choosing to primarily focus on the relationship between Kyung-gu and Sun-kyun over the course of the 1960’s and 1970’s. The contrast in their characters, portrayed both through the actor’s performances and the usage of light and shadow in the cinematography, is what keeps Kingmaker ticking, one that only becomes more pronounced as events unfold.
As a character Sun-kyun feels both relatable and alienating. His passion to ensure Kyung-gu wins is heartfelt, however the methods he increasingly resorts to feel pedantic. When the incumbent party give out shirts to local residents to boost their popularity, Sun-kyun disguises Kyung-gu’s election staff in the opposing parties uniform to ask for them back, resulting in the expected hostility from the receivers, only to re-pack them and give them out as gifts from Kyung-gu’s party. The reason behind it is logical, since Kyung-gu lacks the funds to buy gifts that would curry favor with the locals, however the method is crude and tactless. The first half of Kingmaker features a lot of this kind of wheeling and dealing behind the scenes, and the lack of sophistication behind some of the schemes doesn’t necessarily make for the most compelling viewing.
For those who may expect some of the more eventful moments in Dae-jung’s life to be transferred to the screen (death sentences, assassination attempts!), disappointment will await, as Kingmaker keeps its focus squarely on the relationship between the pair. The intimacy of the story though frequently feels at odds with the grand scale of what’s at stake, and as an audience it’s never clear where our investment should lie – are we watching a tale of friendship between 2 men that gets tested as their ideologies begin to grow apart, or should we be rooting for Kyung-gu to win the presidency every time he hits the campaign trail? I would have preferred if Kingmaker had chosen to focus purely on one and keep the other in the background, and while I get that the upcoming election gives the narrative a purpose, it feels like we spend more time watching Sun-kyun’s schemes than we do anything else.
It’s only in the final 30 minutes of the 2-hour runtime that the plot decides to get interesting, as a shunned Sun-kyun decides to work for the opposition party out of spite, and the focus changes to creating a divide between the Geyongsang and Jeolla regions to influence voting. With the events of history acting as the source the ending isn’t a surprise to anyone familiar with the period, and as a director Sung-hyun takes on an almost observational approach to the material, allowing for events to play out in a way that feels like we’re watching everything from arms length. The end result is a movie that ultimately feels unsure of the best way to wrap up its tale, a fact that’s only exasperated by the relationship between Kyung-gu and Sun-kyun never quite clicking on the level that was intended, despite the core of Kingmaker hinging on the bond between the pair.
The supporting cast includes Kim Jong-soo (Bring Me Home, Asura: City of Madness), who clocks in an entertaining performance as the hot-tempered incumbent, and the always welcome Jo Woo-jin (Alienoid, Seobok) as one of his advisors who isn’t averse to using the same kind of tactics as Sun-kyun. There’s a late in the game plot development involving Kyung-gu’s family that sees an interaction between Woo-jin and Sun-kyun reveal that the latter may not be as tainted as we think he’s become. Unfortunately said conversation also renders an important earlier scene between Sun-kyun and Kyung-gu as somewhat non-sensical, and is probably my single biggest gripe with Kingmaker, as it conflicts with the character traits the narrative has established.
Despite my criticisms, there’s no doubt that Kingmaker looks good and is finely performed. It has top production values, interesting subject matter, and focuses on a rarely covered piece of Korean history that international audiences may not be familiar with. For fans of political intrigue, it’s fair to say that Kingmaker may be a much more attractive proposition, but for myself at least Sung-hyun’s handling of the material left me feeling strangely ambivalent to the events that unfold.
Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 6/10