Annyeong!! And welcome back to another edition of Movie and TV Reviews, where your host is my lovely self.
I hope all has been well with you and yours at the close of another week.
This week we’ll be looking at Poetry.
Now, some people seem to live to be miserable, but as for me? Not so much. I like peace, minding my business, and going about my day as unbothered as possible. Maybe there’s a switch in some people’s heads that’s permanently turned off, causing them to make horrible decisions that hurt everyone around them.
At least that seems to be the case for Yang Mija’s grandson, Jong Wook.
The guy is either a sociopath or completely detached from reality. After he and five other boys essentially contribute to the death of sixteen-year-old Agnes Park Hee-jin, he calmly sits around watching television without a care in the world.
With that being said, let’s get it!!!
Set in the magical land of Korea, my best guess is that the film was shot in Yeongwol County, Gangwon Province. (After some serious detective work, meaning I Googled local businesses that appeared in the film. Thanks, Bultina Dak Galbi.)
Anypoops, charged with raising her grandson, Yang Mija already has enough problems on her plate. Her health is slowly declining, and she is eventually diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. Before the illness steals away her memories, however, she decides to pursue her lifelong dream of learning poetry.
Amid her personal struggles, it is revealed that Jong Wook and five other boys sexually assaulted a fellow student for six months before her death.
Reputation Is Everything…
Not that cancel culture isn’t a thing here in the United States, but Korea’s version operates on an entirely different level. If the public finds out you’ve been up to no good, you may as well kiss your career—or worse, your life as you know it—goodbye.
So while I could understand each father’s desire to protect his son, that doesn’t make it right.
What lesson does that teach them?
That it’s okay to commit crimes as long as you don’t get caught?
As crass as it sounds, the compensation demanded for Hee-jin’s death was 30 million won, which worked out to roughly 5 million won per family.
For the price of blood, those thirty pieces of silver weren’t enough.
Hee-jin’s mother had already lost her husband in a motorcycle accident. Add the loss of her only daughter, and it’s no wonder she was hysterical outside the hospital.
Money Covers a Multitude of Sins
I’ve noticed a running theme in Korean dramas: whenever powerful people get into trouble, they start throwing money around to make the problem disappear.
Prime example: The Glory—a drama I simultaneously loved and hated.
When it came to light that Moon Dong-eun was being brutally bullied by Park Yeon-jin, what happened?
Yeon-jin’s family handed Dong-eun’s mother a stack of cash, and she disappeared faster than a fart in the wind. Lol.
Watch enough dramas featuring rich supervillains—sorry, I mean school-aged trust fund babies—or members of powerful conglomerate families (Reborn Rich, I’m looking at you), and you’ll see money being tossed around like confetti.
Yang Mija
I applaud Yang Mija for her actions.
Frankly, I would’ve done the same.
Unlike many guardians in similar situations, she didn’t spend her energy protecting Jong Wook from the consequences of his actions.
It haunted her that her grandson was free while Agnes was dead.
So she quietly informed the authorities, gave him one final meal as a free man, offered what advice she could, and sent his ass to prison.
Final Thoughts
I don’t particularly enjoy films that remind me how cruel life can be—excuse my English—but I still appreciate them because they keep me grounded in reality.
I live knowing that one day I’m going to die.
I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea.
And I know life isn’t always fair.
Now so we see ’em.
Life is what it is.
Anypoops, I give Poetry a fresh rose from Queen Mirai’s private garden.
Tell me what you think! Drop a like or leave a comment if you enjoyed the review.
Thanks for reading.
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