Thoughts on Burning

Do I feel the movie Burning captures the atmosphere of Murakami's Barn Burning? Yes and no. Burning faithfully incarnates many Murakami icons, that is for sure. His magical realism, for one. How could Boil hide away from Jong-su for 15 days (I believe that is how long Hae-mi has been away)? And how come Boil does not hide (though remains shy) from people in Ben's condo? Hae-mi also exhibits much of the Murakami magical realism. She performs pantomime, peels imaginary clementines, and goes to Africa, just as the girl in Barn Burning does. Hae-mi's Bushmen dance, though sensual and does not appear in Barn Burning, has a surreal touch (partially thanks to the environment, the lighting, the music, etc.), yet remains worldly, situated in Jong-su's yard. Most important of all, the movie does not give the story away and leaves room for our imagination. Why is there a scene of Jong-su typing in Hae-mi's room? How does he get in there, since the password has been changed? Might the whole story just be the story he is writing? 

Parts of the plots, however, are not as Murakami as the ones above. The conflict between Jong-su and Ben builds up quickly as the movie progresses. In Barn Burning, I sense very little tension, if any, between Jong-su and Ben's counterparts. In fact, I doubt if Boku has figured out that the girl is dead--and that brings us to the different approach Burning takes. The movie does leave room for the audience's imagination, but it is not quite as vague as Murakami does in Barn Burning. The movie has a coherent storyline and only weaves in snippets that make the audience think. For example, was there a well around Hae-mi's residence or not? Did she actually fall into a well and was rescued by Jong-su, or is her description merely a trope, and perhaps really refers to how she and Jong-su developed their bond amid her difficult circumstances? While Murakami also uses wells and glimpses of light in his writing, Burning does not base its narrative around those symbols, but rather employs them as decorations. 

The Korean adaptations, on the other hand, set the movie apart from the sheer Murakami style, and perhaps add to the depth of the movie. Many of the Korean elements provoke thoughts on current social phenomena and issues in South Korea. For example, at the beginning of the movie, Hae-mi disclosed to Jong-su that she has undergone plastic surgery, which is perhaps why Jong-su does not recognize her immediately. Plastic surgery is a significant phenomenon and, arguably, a symbol of Korean modernity. Professor Elliot informed me that there are over 600 plastic surgeries in Seoul along, a staggering number indeed. What the audience makes of it differs by individual, but certainly, the movie catches our attention on the subject. In addition, during the gathering at Ben's residence, a female friend of Ben expresses her interest in dating a Chinese man, because she has heard that Chinese men tend to treat their partner well. While some Chinese guys respect women and others don't, this scene captures South Korea's gender issue, and implies its severity--we have only seen Ben's circle twice, and the director decides that a topic of Chinese man respecting women is suitable for one out of the two scenes. Perhaps he considers such a topic to be representative of what rich people in South Korea would talk about at a party. 

In summary, Burning is a good South Korean movie that pays much homage to Murakami but also carries significant South Korean characteristics. I like the movie for its aesthetic presentation and both the Murakami and South Korean symbolisms. 

Marshal