No Accounting for Taste: Itaewon Class
Itaewon Class (JTBC/Netflix)
******spolilers******
An important scene in the first episode of JTBC’s hit drama Itaewon Class shows the main character Park Sae-ro-yi sharing a meal with his father after a particularly terrible day that resulted in the former’s expulsion and the termination of the latter’s employment. Under his father’s tutelage, the teenage son tries soju for the first time. Soju is a Korean liquor that is described as having competing flavours, both bitter and sweet. After the first swig, his father asks how it tastes to which his son replies: “sweet”. With a laugh, his father tells him that it tastes like that because he had an “impressive day” because he stood by his principles despite the loss he may incur. This initial scene is a lovely introduction to Itaewon Class, which is itself a bittersweet story. The bittersweet is defined as “pleasure alongside suffering or regret” (Merriam-Webster 2020, no pagination) and is a well-placed concept since the drama’s arc follows the scrappy protagonist striving to hold his enemy to account in the wake of the tragic and premature loss of his father.
The bittersweet not only describes the organizing “feels” of the drama but can also be used to illustrate my experience of watching it. The first twelve episodes was an emotionally nourishing saga that gave me the will to live during a dark Canadian winter, however, its conclusion was far more conservative than its progressive beginnings (see also Edmund Lee of the South China Morning Post 2020), which actually compounded the frustration that I felt in the face of mounting pandemic disappointment (even though the lead was the beloved Park Seo-joon!).
Since I wrote this review during the first five weeks of a global crisis, I was witnessing intense judgement and criticism for individual behaviour on social media. Some of these negative appraisals were warranted because it amplified the ways in which the pandemic grossly affected vulnerable peoples; while some opinions were simply unfeeling and obstructive because they routinely conflated anxious actions with selfish ones. Within this cacophony, there was also commentary that valorized simple human decency or people for doing their jobs (i.e. Trump) in overblown ways. All this got me thinking about how I could write this review in a graceful way that accounts for the drama’s worthiness and its flaws. I want to recognize how the drama deviates from other Korean dramas, most notably in its social radicality and its attempt to, as critic Jeong Suk-hui has stated, represent Korean society as is (Chang 2020) instead of through the lens of Confucian norms and ideals that have dominated the country’s cultural production (see Hong 2014). This is a choice that I embrace wholeheartedly since different conceptualizations of gender and identity were used to explore and challenge notions of belonging in Korean society. Yet, in getting onboard with some of the more powerful political messages embedded in the narrative, I realized that I had become more complicit in accepting some of the more questionable ideals that were simultaneously professed.
Not surprisingly, given the excellent writing and casting, the drama received rave critical reviews and gigantic ratings (the show is currently the seventh highest rated cable drama of all time) and I strongly believe that this show deserves acknowledgement, not only for its respect for difference but for wearing its heart on its sleeve in such a touching and intimate way. At the same time, I would be remiss not to mention that it is also weirdly apologetic to capitalism and casts standout female leads into relatively thankless roles by the drama’s conclusion.
The drama centers around an ongoing and epic conflict between two men: Park Sae-ro-yi (played by Park Seo-joon) and Jang Dae-hee (played by a much aged Yoo Jae-myung). Jang Dae-Hee is known as a man of taste and is renowned for having an incredible palette and for creating sophisticated dining ambiance. He has channeled his skills towards building a lucrative restaurant empire, Jangga Co. Having good taste requires a type of nimbleness and flexibility but these qualities can also lend themselves to elitist attitudes and exclusionary behaviours. Jang’s taste makes him to feel superior to all his employees as he perceives Jangga’s success as his doing alone (despite the reality that he used thievery to gain some of his best recipes). The perception that the company’s success is dependent on his skills (as opposed to the grossly undervalued labour of others), he demands “loyalty” (which actually appears to be more like submission) from all those in his personal and professional life. His “opponent” and mortal enemy, Park Sae-ro-yi is a young entrepreneur with big dreams of franchising his small pub. At the beginning of the drama, other characters point out that he has little taste or business savvy which stalls some of his plans. Nonetheless, he is “good with people” and he recruits those with excellent marketing and accounting abilities, namely 20 year old brand genius Jo Yi-seo (played by Kim Da-mi) and a disgruntled financial advisor Lee Ho-jin (played by Lee David) to help him achieve his dream. Sae-ro-yi is also a man who is also seeking to hold his enemies responsible for their misdeeds. These accountability desires engender some radical results. As he seeks justice for the untimely loss for his father, his experiences of hardship allow him to compassionately acknowledge both the suffering and strength of others. Yet, his obsession for revenge has rendered him somewhat narrow-minded and inflexible. While his principles make him a paragon of stoicism and morality, his pursuit of financial and moral accounting has led to some pretty intense emotional immaturity rendering him kiss-less well into his mid-30s (that’s rough).
Jang Dae-hee and Park Sae-ro-yi (courtesy of The Korea Herald)
Their story begins when Park begins attending an elite private high school, he immediately observes the bullying of a fellow student Lee Ho-jin (the future financial advisor) and is visibly disturbed by the humiliating violence he witnesses. While cautioned by his classmate and family friend Oh Soo-ah (played by Kwon Na-ra) that he should not get involved, he dismisses her warnings and punches the perpetrator in the victim’s defence. The bully, Jang Geun-won (played by Ahn Bo-hyun) is the son of Jang Dae-hee, who also happens to be Park’s father’s employer. Jang Dae-hee asserts that Sae-ro-yi’s violence will be forgiven if he gets down on his knees and apologizes to his son. Offended by both Geun-won’s behaviour and his father’s proposal, Sae-ro-yi refuses. His father’s affirmation of his son’s choice leaves the older Park unemployed on the spot. Nonetheless, the duo re-group to embark on new projects that may not bring them riches but contain the promise of both happiness and togetherness. These new plans end hastily when Park’s father is killed in a hit-and-run accident which is revealed to be the result of Jang Geun-won’s reckless driving. Full of rage, Sae-ro-yi tracks the younger Jang down at the hospital and delivers a vicious beating. His incarceration for the assault follows and an innocent gardener is imprisoned for the hit and run are thanks to the authoritative meddling of Jang Dae-hee. Sae-ro-yi is then visited in prison by the CEO who tells him that he will be released if he gets on his knees and apologizes to his son for the hospital attack. Sae-ro-yi refuses the “offer” and begins to devise a plan to ensure that both the Jang father and son are held to account for their corruption and cruelty. Park’s quest for revenge also doubles for an inspiring tale of someone who experiences great hardships but is liberated by his own principles and grit.
Notwithstanding the broader categories of hero and villain in which Jang and Park are placed (see Lawardon 2020), these two characters actually function as mirrors of each other as much as they do as foils. They employ similar tactics most aptly demonstrated in Park’s use of Jang’s autobiography as the bible for building a successful business. Both individuals are stubborn, ambitious and born of immense trauma and loss. Jang’s family was crushed by capitalist and anti-democratic systems which has led him to develop an unholy desire for he and his family to succeed at any cost. Likewise, despite all the main character’s positive qualities, Park Sae-ro-yi remains fixated on revenge. Nonetheless, when the right moral dilemma is thrown his way, Park is able to mature leaving only Jang Dae-hee to end up as a dried husk of a human being who is left alone to watch his entire life’s work come undone with laboured breath and growing liver spots. For this reason, I would argue that the drama functions as a cautionary tale about how mismanaged trauma and ambition can corrupt individuals. Stated more clearly, the drama subtly suggests that Park Sae-ro-yi could have shared Jang’s pathetic fate in the future had he not kept his pride and insecurity in check.
As Kim Sung-soo astutely points out, the relationship between between Park and Jang could represent a generational divide that is currently taking place in Korea (see Lee 2020). While the older generation has endured some difficult and terrible times (ie. The Korean War, dictatorships, democratic uprisings and massacres, the IMF crisis) (Lee 2020), the younger generation feels that their opportunities for success and happiness are deeply limited, with many referring to Korea as “Hell Joseon” (see Ock 2017). But it is Park’s unwavering (and somewhat paternalistic) morals that may actually appeal to the older generation of Korean viewers as opposed to the younger ones says culture critic Kim Sung-soo (qted in Lee 2020). Therefore, there is a need for this drama to express conservative values alongside the more progressive ones to demand a more inclusive and representative Korean society.
The main difference between the two characters is that Park embraces his exclusion from society and refuses to be defined by it while Jang is deeply ashamed of his and enacts a domineering attitude to avoid its recurrence. For this reason, Park is able to meet people where they are as opposed to demanding submission or perfection from them and thereby creates a sanctuary for the employees at Danbam Pub. For instance, in a controversial move (as the show presents it), Park hires Kim To-ni (played by Chris Lyon), a Korean-Guinean man whose Koreanness is routinely questioned even by his closest colleagues and supporters. While many of the staff were are against his hire initially, it is assumed he can can help the pub accommodate foreign customers who are English-speaking (although he doesn’t know how to speak English!). Kim To-ni’s character questions and challenges limited ideas about what it means to “belong” in Korean society. The inclusion of a racialized character in Korean dramas is uncommon, let alone for the character to be featured as a one of the drama’s main heroes. While Black characters have been cast in other dramas; they are almost always presented as foreigners; they almost always speak English; and they often experience strange and terrible fates (remember I’m Not a Robot where the only Black character dies of a broken heart/allergy derived from acute rejection). In contrast, Itaewon’s Kim To-ni is a kind and good-natured character who brings a sense of warmth and tenacity to both the pub and the drama. His character is reunited with his Korean grandmother who are both grieving the loss of his father and the duo create a family they were both missing.
The first two episodes of this drama were glorious because I was reminded again of why I love watching Korean dramas so much. They routinely denounce the weirdness and fragility of power and prioritize diligence and standing up for one’s beliefs. The characters refuse to compromise their dreams and ideals even when compromise presents a far easier choice (see Oh Soo-Ah in this drama!). This show also made me long for Seoul, a city that I have never felt particularly comfortable in but one that holds a history of promises and disappointments for many. Chang (2020) notes that Itaewon itself was “[o]nce a booming town due to the presence of a United States army base, which has since moved out, Itaewon is now know for its melting pot of restaurants serving all kinds of international cuisine and vibrant nightlife” (no pagination). I visited Itaewon several times in 2002 when it still remained a hub for foreigners and US military men and my memories of the area were not particularly fond. I returned in 2019 (mostly to visit the main BTS store) and while it has changed greatly, there still remains a kind of rough charm.
Chris Lyon as Kim To-ni (courtesy of Soompi)
One of the drama’s title songs, “Still Fighting It” is a haunting cover of a Ben Folds Five song that eerily sounds like “Taps” at the outset and creates a kind of foreboding peace. The song seems to capture what waking up each day and having to survive feels like. The song is a good choice because for most of the show, the characters are far from thriving but in fact just surviving the grinds of misfortune. This includes the other main antagonist Jang Geun-won. He is about as hateable as kdrama character come. A jolly mix of cruelty and cowardice who is deeply offended by the tiniest slights he experiences even in the face of the deep wounds he has inflicted on others. If he was an American, I believe he would have voted for Trump. The drama shows his father routinely and publicly humiliating him (like…in board meetings) but the show is careful to demonstrate that although he is a victim himself, his behaviour should be considered abhorrent. He is eventually imprisoned for his role in Park’s father’s death only to realize that the first time he evaded justice was his father’s attempt to save his company and reputation…not him. Korean dramas frequently recognize trauma as a means to understand character motivation and I find this refreshing, but I also appreciate how dramas conceptualize the outcomes of this trauma in relation to responsibility and accountability. These are two things that are frequently eluded by the Jangs’ due to their proximity to capital and influence.
Yet, the trauma narrative is also misused when it comes to the drama’s assessment of capitalism. In the beginning, the drama seemed to critique the way that capital is revered despite the incessant cruelty applied to those who are forced generate it or be dispossessed so others can enjoy its accumulation. The story’s concept is used to comprehend what some consider the reality of capitalism…that it cannot exist without an underclass and that the labour, territory, and lives of this underclass must be churned up and exploited in order for the system to be sustained (see McNally 2006).
Other critics have identified how the two main characters are used to represent two different forms of capitalism. What E. Alex Jung (2020) has called Good Daddy Capitalism vs. Bad Daddy Capitalism (with Park representing the former and Jang the latter). I agree with this assessment completely in that the show seems to spend a lot of time undermining capitalism only to present a certain brand of this system as emancipatory by the drama’s conclusion (see Jung 2020). The show takes a “bad apple” approach to the assessing the system which presumes that if one makes their money honestly and treats workers well, the inequalities that inevitably follow are understandable, forgivable and even natural. While the drama demonstrates that some leaders understand responsibility and accountability in relation to accumulation, it seems a sharp diversion from the more radical message of a film like Parasite where the entire system is condemned as one that creates violence and inequality (predominantly between the individuals or groups who are most grossly excluded from its benefits). And the main proponents of the system willfully ignore or disregard this truth. Moreover, the capitalist aspirations are very far out of reach for someone like Park, who is much like the Choi Woo-sik’s character in the film, however, Choi’s aspirations of liberatory wealth for his low income family are equated with the musings of someone who has sustained severe brain damage.
Itaewon Class seems to apologize for capitalism by using trauma and revenge narratives to present financial success (or eventual ruin) as justice. It represents a system of accounting that can be used to reward the righteous and undermine the wicked. It was my hope that Park may abandon his revenge plans and demands for financial reward by opting for a simpler life of friendship and love as proposed to him by one of his love interests, Oh Soo-ah. Yet, the drama makes this proposal look ridiculous as it is made by a woman who has worked for his enemies for the better part of a decade with full knowledge of their crimes! In this context, it is a non-option. It appeared that at the beginning of the drama, Park Sae-ro-yi was launching a protest against the authority and corruption of his father’s unapologetic killers. Acting as an obstacle to their power so as to contain or change the system in which they operate. To dismantle it. This seems more of a just act then simply usurping the leadership position and taking the oppressor’s place. This doesn’t mean that Park should settle for less despite being the victim (you can’t pay for food with justice), but some recognition that the structure isn’t all that fair regardless of who is at the helm would have been nice. But hey, that’s just me.
The Itaewon Triangle: Oh Soo-ah, Park Sae-ro-yi, Jo Yi-seo (courtesy of Forbes)
Despite the main character being portrayed as a pillar of morality, he seemingly attracts his fair share of “sociopaths” (or as the show would describe them)….in that those people who surround him and to whom he extends his love and caring appear to fit this diagnosis. And where his morals and principles are too often conflated with his authority (for my taste!), I found it interesting that his main love interest, Jo Yi-seo, is routinely elated by how unburdened she feels by the pressures of fair play, integrity and ethics. Despite the life lessons she has received from her “unscrupulous” mother, she finds herself curious and then enamored with the humble Danbam Pub and its owner. She decides to drop out of university in an effort to make herself indispensable to him so he will pay attention to her. She is without a doubt, a brilliant social media personality and has eloquent taste for such a young age. She is a hard worker and a stone cold negotiator. She has many talents and produces results which make him defend her despite the constant discomfort she produces for others with her tactless “honesty”. Underneath her focus and cutthroat style, she cares deeply for Park Sae-ro-yi and respects his strength and unwavering principles. There is something very interesting about Yi-seo prior to her foray at Danbam and I am not sure she earned the sociopath label at all. She just doesn’t take shit. She does not indulge men’s flirtations and calls out the common practice of men confusing reciprocity (or basic human courtesy) with something that looks like prostitution. Her biggest crime pre-Danbam is drinking underage at his pub and pushing her opponent during track and field day (big deal!). What I see is someone who is standing up for herself and clearly asserting what she wants from a relationship (like she does with Jang Geun-soo who frankly just doesn’t do it for her). The show’s insistence that somehow she needs to be reformed by Park’s goodness and to refute her “materialistic and irresponsible” mother is pretty disappointing. She definitely needs to grow as she has some small-minded and prejudiced views. No question! Though I found it frustrating that Park is both her love interest and her boss, that he’s ten years her senior and that he is someone who rejects her advances for a half decade because he loves another person. A real enviable scenario for young women! Put all your efforts into one man and wait for him to kind of like you. This further annoys me since women make up the majority audience for kdramas.
Taking this main romantic relationship into account, the initial story about trauma and justice changes toward the conclusion to focus on themes of love (see Lee 2020). While some have critiqued this shift, the focus on love (and romance in particularly) lay bare the cracks in the veneer of the drama. I would argue that drama asserts that love is an emotion or experience that can turn an individual into a hero or a tyrant. It can create the conditions for freedom where individuals can express their true selves but it can also lead to single-mindedness, possessiveness and the desire for control. This admonition which the drama serves allows the viewer to question where and how love is given. Jang Da-hee notion of “love” for his corporation and family was rooted in sacrifice and coercion while our hero, Park, not only realizes the depth of his affection for others but his right to enjoy this affection returned. A legit lesson.
Yet, despite the positive messages of “mutual” affection and self-love, the main triangle featured in this show is one of the most sexist I have witnessed in a Korean drama. As the centerpiece of the Netflix trailer, Park is running down the street flanked by his two “devotees” each wishing something for him while he desires nothing from himself (other than revenge). This story will wrap up when Park Sae-ro-yi eventually realizes his love for Yi-seo in a dramatic kidnapping plot which sees him ask Jang to reveal her whereabouts (given his son has orchestrated the crime). Jang says he will oblige under the condition that Park submits to him on his knees. Between realizing the folly of pride and his desperation to find his love, he falls on his knees as if what he had previously rejected so intently is now “the easiest thing to do”. What this dramatic moment obscures is that Yi-seo in fact has been kidnapped from the hospital where she is staying because she has been worked to the point of exhaustion for a business that will never be hers only to end up as a damsel in distress (albeit a crafty one) that requires rescue by her knight in shining armor. This was a waste of a strong and interesting character. Her role for the rest of the show is to stand behind him silently while his enemy falls and to serve as one of the many onlookers while he ascends to his throne. This is why the story of capital accumulation cannot be separated from gender in this drama. Park Sae-yo-ri cannot share power in a position that was not designed to share power, not equally anyways. This easily translates into his romantic relationship that is punctuated by respect and appreciation for Yi-seo, but not power. But he loves her though….and this is what she wanted for so long and seemingly that is all that matters???? How great for her! It is in these last two episodes where I acutely recognized that this drama was written by a dude. A rather unusual occurrence in Kdramaland where the majority of the screenwriters are women.
Love does win out in one pairing. It is only alluded to subtly but it is a breath of fresh air given the other representations of hetero love. Choi Seung-kwon (played by Ryu-Kyung-soo) who is a former convict that served time in prison with Park and Ma Hyun-yi (played by Lee Joo-young), a transwoman whom Park met while working at a factory are loyal friends that help to start Danbam Pub. The relationship between these two characters is turbulent yet supportive, and the former’s attraction to the latter is revealed early on in the drama despite the offence he takes when her transition is “discovered”. Like Kim To-ni, Hyun-yi and Seung-kwon are seen as liabilities by Yi-seo, yet, the revelation of the latter’s gender identity on a national television show by an deceitful former employee Jang Geun-soo (and Jang’s youngest progeny played by Kim Dong-hee) proves to be one of the most uplifting moments of the drama. When an article appears in the newspapers as a means to undermine her as a contestant on a national cooking show that is helping to catapult the pub to success, Park tells her that she does not owe anyone an explanation about her identity and that she does not have to participate because he will take her place. Unlike Park, Seung-kwon never doubts her ability to rise to the occasion and appear on the show. Though his explanation of Hyun-yi’s strength initially appears super offensive at first, his belief in and admiration for her is the most pronounced of all the Danbam employees. Unlike Jo (on other occasions), Hyun-yi refuses to let Park act in her stead. Spoiler: she wins the contest with her chef skills and her loveable personality by herself and as herself.
The drama concludes with the two characters going to see a movie together. Theirs is relationship based on directness and respect as well as caring and support for their mutually important yet different paths and talents. This couple is the lone example of a potentially ideal romantic relationship in the show. It is also one of forgiveness and growth.
In conclusion, the drama relates to its audience in very much the same way that Danbam Pub relates to its customers…with an irreverent benevolence. The drama invites the audience to share in the lives of its characters but like the pub’s proprietor and employees, the drama also does not give a fuck if the audience is entirely on board with the critical themes and ideas it is attempting to bring to light. This warm yet cheeky righteousness is part of the drama’s and the main characters’ charm. In leaving room for flexibility and daring, the show imagines a more compassionate South Korea (or North America!) that could but does not yet exist. This is an absolute win for the drama despite its many flaws. It is also full of pretty standard capitalist goals which are deeply attached to the sexist attitude that permeates through the entire drama.
Hyun-mi and Seung-kwon (courtesy of Soompi)
References
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Chang, M.C. 2020. Social taboos unveiled in hit South Korean drama ‘Itaewon Class. The Jakarta Post.
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Hong, Euny. 2014. The birth of Korean cool: how one nation is conquering the world through pop culture. New York: Picador.
Jung, E. A. 2020. Itaewon Class, A Korean drama that just hits different. Vulture. 2 April 2020.
< https://www.vulture.com/2020/04/itaewon-class-a-korean-drama-that-just-hits-different.html
Lawardorn, Damien. 2020. Itaewon Class is the story that we need in these troubling times. The Escapist.
< https://www.escapistmagazine.com/v2/itaewon-class-is-the-story-we-need-in-these-troubling-times/>
Lee, J.L. 2020. “Itaewon Class’ finds wide appeal on TV: Loyal fans of hit web comic praise the JTBC show for being spot-on.” Korea Joongang Dailey. 12 Mar 2020.
< http://koreajoongangdaily.joins.com/news/article/article.aspx?aid=3074818>
McNally, D. 2006. Another world is possible: Globalization and Anti-Capitalism. Arbeiter Ring Publishing.
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< http://www.koreaherald.com/view.php?ud=20171210000292>
Posted. April 22nd, 2020.