“The Land of Happiness” Theatrical Poster
Director: Choo Chang-min
Cast: Cho Jung-Seok, Lee Sun-Kyun, Yoo Jae-Myung, Woo Hyeon, Lee Won-Jong, Jeon Bae-Su, Song Young-Kyu, Choi Won-Young, Kang Mal-Geum
Running Time: 124 min.
By Paul Bramhall
The 8 months spanning October 1979 to May 1980 are some of the most tumultuous in Korea’s recent history, marked by the assassination of president Park Chung-hee on the 26th October, and culminating in military dictator Chun Doo-hwan ordering the Gwangju Massacre that took place from 18th – 27th May. What was hoped to create a pathway to democracy instead led the country into one of its darkest periods, and in recent years the fateful events that took place across those months have proved to be fertile ground for Korean cinema. Movies such as 2017’s A Taxi Driver, 2020’s A Man Standing Next, and 2023’s 12.12: The Day all cover significant events from the period, and in 2024 The Land of Happiness tells a story which also unfolds across the same time period.
While the titles mentioned cover significant historical moments – Park Chung-hee’s assassination, Chun Doo-hwan’s military coup, and the Gwangju Massacre – The Land of Happiness differentiates itself by telling a lesser-known story from the era. Set in the context of its peers, much like in 12.12: The Day the narrative opens directly after the final scene in A Man Standing Next. The Head of the KCIA has just assassinated Park Chung-hee, leading to his arrest and the subordinates who were with him. In reality one of the subordinates was a colonel named Park Heung-joo, who as the only active soldier in the group was faced with a one-trial military court martial versus the three-trial system civilians were entitled to, and with an almost certain death penalty for treason was left with little hope for a fair trial.
For the cinematic retelling director Choo Chang-min (Seven Years of Night, Masquerade) frames his story as one of a loyal soldier who only followed what he was ordered to do, and the cynical sliver tongued lawyer who’s hired to defend him. Cast as the soldier is the late Lee Sun-kyun (Parasite, Sleep), with The Land of Happiness being one of two posthumous releases after his untimely death in 2023, the other being the action thriller Project Silence. His lawyer is played by Cho Jung-seok (Exit, The Drug King), clocking in his 2nd leading man turn of the year, and a world away from his role in the cross-dressing comedy Pilot.
Casting a long shadow over the narrative is the character of Chun Doo-hwan who, much like in 12.12: The Day, due to local libel laws goes under a different name in the movie itself, but audiences aren’t left in any doubt as to who the portrayal is intended to be. Anyone stepping into the shoes of Doo-hwan after Hwang Jung-min’s powerhouse portrayal from the previous year was going to have a tough act to follow, however veteran character actor Yoo Jae-myung (Kingmaker, Voice of Silence) does a stellar job at putting his own stamp on the role. Eschewing the almost pantomime like villainy that Jung-min imbued the character with, Jae-myung opts to play the role as a man of few words, a decision which serves to make the moments he does speak all the more chilling.
Director Chang-min wisely puts the relationship between Sun-kyun and Jung-seok at the heart of the narrative, placing the human element first, and ensuring it never feels like we’re watching a retread of 12.12: The Day (a pertinent point considering both movies were released less than 9 months apart). Instead we spend time getting to know both men and how they view the world, with Sun-kyun being a stubbornly loyal soldier who insists on doing things by the book, even when its to the detriment of his wife and kids. On the other hand we first meet Jung-seok with a client whose leg he’s put in a fake plaster, and is coaching on what to say in court. With a motto of “courts aren’t for deciding who’s right and who’s wrong, there for deciding who wins and who loses”, behind his bravado we learn he comes from a poor background, and is still bitter at his father who’s serving jail time for hiding student democracy protestors.
Despite the dark period that The Land of Happiness takes place in (and yes, the title is intended to be ironic), Chang-min uses the pairs different personalities to create some effective moments of humor, especially when it comes to Jung-seok’s exasperation at Sun-kyun’s unwillingness to bend the truth even a little. The majority of the narrative essentially takes place within the framework of a courtroom drama, with flashbacks to the night of the assassination smartly used to reveal new details that can be used in the case. Despite the time Jung-seok and Sun-kyun actually spend onscreen together being limited, with the majority of their interactions unfolding within the prisons meeting room, it’s a testament to their performances that the connection they gradually begin to build feels like an authentic one.
It also helps in making Jung-seok’s predictable character arc more digestible. From a lawyer who’s initially only out to make a name for himself and receive a healthy payday, as the plot progresses he begins to become more invested in Sun-kyun’s case, and in the broader question of what it means to be part of a democracy. While the journey is an expected one, because the stakes are so high with Sun-kyun’s death penalty hanging in the balance, it thankfully offsets some of the more expected plot beats that begin to rear their head.
With that being said, much like in 12.12: The Day, any production that chooses to set itself between the time period of Park Chung-hee’s assassination and Chun Doo-hwan’s successful military coup is inevitably going to have a depressing ending. In that regard it’s a surprise to have not 1 but 2 big budget mainstream releases in less than a year that choose the period as their setting. While 12.12: The Day took a sombre approach throughout, giving it the necessary narrative consistency to be a success, The Land of Happiness sets itself up for a tricker challenge in the way it has to reconcile the occasional lightness of touch versus the grim ending it’s heading towards.
It’s not a complete surprise then when the final third puts the foot on the gas into melodrama territory, and the identity that Chang-min had established for his latest is thrown aside for a mix of bawling histrionics, and expected closing scene text detailing the unjust fate everyone we’ve been rooting for would meet. It takes a skilled hand to be able to take an audience along on an emotional rollercoaster that goes from the extremes of induing laughter to expecting tears of outrage, and I’m not sure I can think of anyone who’s been able to get that balance just right within the small timeframe of 2 hours. Chang-min does his best, however by the time we get to Jung-seok on his knees in front of Jae-myung in a protracted scene on a golf course, it all feels a little hard to swallow.
The usual tropes of character humiliation and brutal violence are brought to the fore, until characters are left spitting out blood while still espousing the virtues of a fair country, and the change in contrast just doesn’t quite gel with the more measured approach the majority of the narrative has taken. Histrionic fuelled finales are far from unique in Korean cinema, the issue is when they feel like sharp right turns rather than a natural part of the journey, and in the case of The Land of Happiness the sudden pile-on risks alienating rather than connecting.
Despite this, after an 8 year absence in the director’s chair The Land of Happiness is a welcome return for Choo Chang-min, and as one of the final roles of Lee Sun-kyun he offers up a suitably haunting performance, a reminder that Korea lost one of its best acting talents far too soon. There might not be much to smile about at the end of The Land of Happiness, but considering its basis in real events, its a story that’s important to be told.
Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 6.5/10
I wonder if there will be a movie about Doo-hwan’s fall from power (even if they don’t use his real name.) It could be like South Korea’s equivalent to Downfall.
Considering how he lost his re-election and cooperated with a peaceful transition of power, and all his punishment amounted to was a commuted prison sentence and having his possessions and property seized, he got off easy.
There kind of already is. Check out 2017’s ‘1987: When the Day Comes’, which is set during the June Democratic Uprising from the same year, a series of mass protests that ultimately led Doo-hwan to concede in allowing December’s presidential election to be a free and open one.