The Age Of Shadows: Faith, Trust, And Gunpowder

The Japanese occupation of Korea lasted from 1910-1945. The three-and-a-half decade rule of Japan is still a spot of contention amongst the countries to this day. The attempted Japanization, banning the use of Korean names, banning the use of Korean language altogether, tens of thousands of cultural artifacts being taken, historic building destroyed, having natural resources extracted from them with poor working conditions and paltry pay, it was these conditions that led to the Korean independence movement, acting both politically and militantly in and around the peninsula. (Source: https://www.jstor.org/stable/2566622)

The Age Of Shadows, directed by Korean cinema veteran Kim Jee-woon takes place during Japanese-occupied Korea in the 1920s and involves a group of Korean resistance fighters attempting to smuggle explosives to destroy facilities controlled by Japanese forces. A conflicted police captain, Lee Jung-chool played by the immaculate Song Kang-ho tasked with investigating and rooting out a cell of resistance fighters at the behest of his Japanese commander. 

Captain Lee has a history of selling out his own people. He couldn’t have risen to the position he has in the Japanese government if he didn’t. But he is hit harder and more personally by the death of his former classmate, and member of the resistance in the opening scene of the film. Sensing opportunity to turn him to their side, the leader of the resistance Che-san, played by the exceptional Lee Byung-hun, instructs a high ranking member and antique shop fronting Kim Woo-jin, played by the reliably excellent Gong Yoo, to begin the process of getting him back on the side of his people.

More than any other elements, immediately apparent to The Age Of Shadows is its commitment to tone, building atmosphere, intelligent use of its environment, color palette, and visual storytelling. The soundscape feels constantly on its edge. An ominous and intentional stifled volume of the oppressed and victimized Korean population underneath the boot of its Japanese occupiers. But there is never a degree of normalcy in its dynamics. That the space in between constant near silence and brief outbursts of violence is never truly inhabited. Conversations are had in hushed alleyways with constant looks over shoulders to make sure no one undesirable is listening in. Pedestrians walk with heads down, faces as obscured as they legally can be in these dreary, isolating streets. Even when the sun is out the light feels choked, squeezed out by the forces in charge to remind its populace who is in control. Shots are deliberately left lingering on Captain Lee as if to pensively speak to the audience through them on his conflicting responsibilities. Wide shots are given breadth to explore the spaces that he inhabits, we feel his personal plight against the backdrop of Korea’s misery.

Approximating what life was like in a certain historical time period as close to realistic as possible without taking too many artistic liberties is a difficult task. Approximating the emotions and evoking the sense of what life was like not just for the average citizen but those involved in a clandestine espionage operation under the nose of their violent oppressors is even more difficult. And it’s how The Age Of Shadows dedicates itself to placing you in the middle of its mostly silent conflict through its attention to physical and emotional detail that is by far its greatest accomplishment.

It’s main character trio are well developed and fleshed out, given backstories, motivations, fears, and intrigue. Captain Lee Jung-chool being at the forefront conveyed as much through subtext, subtle actions as much as his dialogue. Kim Woo-jin’s arc being one of further devoting himself to a cause that gave him personal purpose when he had everything he knew taken away from him. The resistance leader Che-san arguably being the most well-developed through his desire for redemption, the irony of fighting in the interests of a country from which he is exiled and estranged from, and the commitment to and from people that he doesn’t even know. Given comparatively lesser screen time than the resistance members actively fighting on the front lines he still manages to make more than just an impression. You feel his influence and aspiration in every operation. These are believably flawed people who are doing what they know how to do.

Unfortunately its biggest triumph is also the source of its mistakes. Its expositional focus on tone and feeling comes at the cost of gaining sustained momentum and of gathering emotional weight in a story where there are demonstrative consequences to its narrative stakes. There are other key resistance members of the main operation that are given very little, if any characterization at all. They are faces in a crowd, I wouldn’t know them if I ran them over. While understandable the characterization focus would be on it’s core trio, a little characterization has the potential to go a long way for auxiliary characters. When narrative consequence occurs to the members of the resistance I’m not invested because I don’t know the first thing about them. There is a build up of tension in the ranks of the resistance and growing disillusion amongst a few members, but since I don’t know them at all it has no emotional weight to stand on, when people give up, when people are lost, it wants to mean something but that meaning is lost. We can only infer what these trials and tribulations mean to these people beyond the obvious, and that’s a weak motivation to care. Its exposition is so laser focused on creating a sense of place, time, and narrative stakes that its secondary characters suffer for it losing any chance at a hint of meaningful dimension.

The Age Of Shadows hopes you don’t notice its mistakes by pacing its second half at a breakneck speed. There isn’t much time to breathe, which makes for a fantastic spectacle certainly, but doesn’t give us much time to pontificate on its wider implications. If its first half exposition approach is at times too slow, then its second half rising action approach is at times too fast. Which is a shame because its narrative is still gripping all the way through. Characters acting as believably as you would expect humans to, and outside of a few auxiliary characters being used for very key lot points it is well penned and its dialogue is very practical while also being hard-hitting and personal when it needs to be. While its pacing leaves much to be desired it builds intrigue effectively and it has believable action, reaction, and consequences for its main characters while also sustaining its drama for its entire runtime with a conclusion that feels fully earned without being contrived or convenient for the story being told.

The central theme of loyalty branches off to create multifaceted and meaningful messages this work attempts to convey. That loyalty can go deeper than shared convenience and transcend ideology or flag into something more personal and respectful, less susceptible to the ever changing whims of state agenda and individual ideology. Even while within us the constantly changing definition of justice as one gains new information can shatter the very foundation of one’s core tenets and living philosophies. That deconstructive experience can create a new, more aware, and empathetic self that sees the noble souls beyond the flawed but noble aspirations more important than maintaining our own enrichment of an unhealthy status quo and that being a far better cause for an upholder of justice than being a guardian of the state. When we choose our loyalties wisely, it would do us well to remember how much we are able to gain in terms of knowledge and shared and well-intended humanity. They are worth far more than anything of mere physical value.