“Libera Me” Theatrical Poster
Director: Yang Yun-Ho
Cast: Choi Min-Soo, Cha Seung-Won, Yoo Ji-Tae, Kim Gyu-Ri, Park Sang-Myeon, Lee Ho-Jae, Jung Joon, Heo Jun-Ho, Jeong Ae-Ri, Kim Soo-Ro, Park Ga-Ryeong
Running Time: 119 min.
By Paul Bramhall
Korean cinema was in an interesting place at the turn of the millennium. The 90’s was a tricky decade for the film industry, it’s first one as a democracy, and initially the outlook didn’t look promising for local productions which struggled to compete with glossy Hollywood blockbusters. However in 1999 a movie called Shiri came along, and suddenly a countries output which was little known outside of domestic shores found its breakthrough. An action thriller pitting South Korean agents against North Korean spies, Shiri presented a distinctly Korean story, and infused it with liberal doses of Michael Bay style shootouts and explosions. Shiri would open up the doors to international interest in Korea’s output, and by 2003 Korean cinema was well and truly on the map, its output termed as the ‘Korean Wave’.
Libera Me was released the following year after the success of Shiri, and follows the logic that action movies were the way to go, the more bombastic the better. Clearly influenced by the 1991 Hollywood production Backdraft, the plot sees Choi Min-soo (Sword in the Moon, The Terrorist) as a world-weary firefighter whose taken on a devil may care attitude since losing his partner (Heo Joon-ho clocking in a cameo) in a previous blaze, which he blames himself for. He’s forced to put his guilt aside though when a mentally unstable arsonist played by Cha Seung-won (Man on High Heels, Night in Paradise) starts running rampant through Busan, setting off a number of increasingly dangerous fires, with an escalating number of innocent lives being lost each time.
After a pre-credits opening in which we see Seung-won released from prison after a 12-year stint for a crime we learn about as the plot progresses, proceedings get straight into the thick of things when an apartment block consumed by flames is used to introduce the cast of firefighters. Yoo Ji-tae (Svaha: The Sixth Finger, OldBoy) plays Min-soo’s partner in only his 4th screen appearance, while Park Sang-myeon (My Wife is a Gangster, Nowhere to Hide) is cast as the rocksteady veteran, and horror genre stalwart Kim Kyu-ri (Whispering Corridors, Bunshinsaba) portrays an investigative reporter. The sequence is an exhilarating one, perhaps more-so in an era when audiences have become accustomed to CGI fire, to see the likes of Min-soo and Ji-tae surrounded by the real deal, baked in sweat and faces blackened by the smoke, somehow makes everything feel much more immediate and dangerous.
Containing moments of jaw dropping stunt work, including an insane high floor jump and bodies literally consumed by explosions, it’s one of those barnstorming openings that instils a sense of dread, as the inevitable question arises to if the remainder of the movie is going to top it. Directed by Yang Yoon-ho, after spending much of the 90’s helming dramas like the brilliantly titled Mister Condom and White Valentine (Jeon Ji-hyun’s debut!), it was Libera Me that would set the tone for the rest of his career. In 2004 he helmed the Kyokushin karate original tale Fighter in the Wind, in 2005 he’d re-team with Choi Min-soo for the prison drama Holiday, and in 2010 he’d direct the serial killer thriller Rainbow Eyes. Nothing would match the spectacle on display in Libera Me though, and while its plot may be familiar, Yoon-ho shows a keen eye for capturing the intensity and scale of fire at its most lethal.
Looking back at it more than 20 years later, Libera Me offers up an entertaining mix of both established Korean talent of the era, and new faces that would come to be a mainstay of Korean cinema over the coming 2 decades. Choi Min-soo was one of the most popular stars of the 90’s, having topped the Korean box office in 1992 with Marriage Story (which offered up an early template for Korean Wave hits like My Sassy Girl), he’d become known for his tough guy roles after starring in the landmark 1995 TV drama Sandglass (the Squid Game of its day in terms of popularity!). The likes of The Terrorist and Blackjack further cemented his alpha-male image, and his role in Libera Me as the archetypal fireman plays to his strengths perfectly. Seung-won on the other hand was still very much at the beginning of his career, having only a handful of supporting roles under his belt in the likes of Ghost in Love and Attack the Gas Station.
The hook here rests on Min-soo’s expertise in putting out fires, and Seung-won’s expertise in starting them. Any doubt that the pacing wouldn’t be able to sustain the intensity of the opening sequence is thankfully soon put to rest, as a cat and mouse game develops between the pair once Seung-won realises Min-soo risks putting a dampener on his plans (sorry, terrible pun), and Min-soo realises Seung-won is the culprit. When the screen isn’t filled with flames Yoon-ho shows a deft hand at being able to crank up the tension, with the sound of gas moving through pipes and even the sight of condensation forming all being used as visual cues that danger is imminent.
Of particular note is a sequence involving a gas station, which saw a whole set being constructed purely for the purpose of sending it (and anything in its immediate vicinity) up in the mother of all fireballs, and it makes for a sight to see, the kind that makes you wish you’d been around to catch Libera Me on the big screen. Indeed as much as the actors themselves, like in Backdraft here the fire itself is also very much a character, the practical nature of the effects making it very much feel like a living and breathing force of nature, and capable of consuming anything in its path.
While Korean cinema in recent years has fallen short of creating memorable villains, Seung-won feels like a legitimate threat, and his interactions with a psychologist add an additional layer of characterisation to make him feel like a well realised villain. While at the end of the day he’s just as much of an archetypal bad guy as Min-soo is the archetypal macho firefighter, what’s important is that he’s imbued with a personality, and doesn’t feel like a one-dimensional cipher that more recent productions fall foul of. By the time he and Min-soo find themselves face to face on the rooftop of a blazing hospital, the confrontation between the pair feels like a cathartic one. It’s a scrappy scene handled by Korea’s premier action choreographer Jung Doo-hong, and offers up a suitable finale befitting of the blockbuster it aspires to be.
While some of Libera Me’s production values may feel a little rough around the edges compared to the Korean cinema of today, often the scene transitions can feel a little jerky or lacking in narrative flow, these are minor gripes and aren’t enough to detract from the overall enjoyment. It could well be argued that big budget action blockbusters like Libera Me and Shiri fell out of fashion in Korean cinema almost as quickly as they came in, and within a couple of years a fresh wave of talent like Park Chan-wook and Bong Joon-ho ushered in a new cinematic era that can still be felt today. While I’m a fan of the likes of OldBoy and Memories of Murder as much as the next person, I also have a soft spot for these late 90’s and early 00’s blockbusters that aimed to go big, and seemed to be Korea’s way of saying they could blow stuff on a scale that matched anything coming out of Hollywood.
More recent efforts like Hong Kong’s Shock Wave have attempted to recapture the kind of danger on display in Libera Me, but the fact is no matter how realistic the CGI fire and explosions may be, nothing replaces real in-camera flames where you can practically feel the heat emanating from the screen. More so than Shiri, Libera Me feels like it benefits from the best of 2 era’s – the attitude of the many DTV actioners that populated Korean video shelves during the 90’s, with the handsome budget that productions would increasingly enjoy throughout the 00’s. The end result is an entertaining slice of action cinema, one which practically guarantees you’ll break a sweat.
Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 8/10
