The King's Warden

If we examine the recent trends in historical dramas dominating both theaters and television screens, we can see that fusion historical dramas, which boldly overlay modern sensibilities and imagination, are more mainstream than authentic historical dramas. The "faction" genre, which intricately blends historical fact with fiction, is overflowing. Sometimes, works that merely borrow the historical setting while the characters' speech and behavior remain no different from modern dramas pour out, dodging controversies over historical distortion. Amidst this flow, the movie The Man Who Lives with the King is a very exceptional and welcome work in that it stimulates the tear ducts of the audience by dealing with the power of heavy authentic history and humanism without the box office guarantee of romance. Instead of flashy spectacles or stimulating settings, it genuinely captures the tragedy of individuals swept up in the vortex of history and the stories of ordinary people protecting them, delivering a deep resonance to the audience.

The medium of film tends to be more faithful to historical facts as it must show a compressed narrative rather than the relatively long breath of a drama series. Of course, the writer's imagination is added for cinematic fun, but it is merely at the level of probability to fill in the gaps not recorded in history books, and it does not take the unreasonable step of denying or distorting the main stem of history itself. The Man Who Lives with the King faithfully follows this virtue. It summons the story of Eom Heung-do and King Danjong, recorded in a single line or short sentence in history books, to the screen, richly unraveling the human agony and depth of relationships that likely existed behind the scenes. Because it is a tragic history with a predetermined beginning and end, every audience member knows how this movie will end. However, paradoxically, the desperate struggles of the characters running toward that predetermined ending approach with even more heartbreaking poignancy.

Why do we bother to watch historical dramas or movies where we already clearly know the ending? It is likely not simply to confirm the result of the event, but to witness the waves of emotion and the details of the narrative that the characters endure until reaching that result. Even if it ends in tragedy, the joys and sorrows blooming within that process and the acting energy exuded by the actors provide us with catharsis. Particularly in the case of historical dramas, there is a thrill felt when dry events encountered only as text in textbooks are revived as vivid reality through the breath of actors. The Man Who Lives with the King deals with the tragedy of Danjong that we know well, but it creates a new point of emotion by pulling out the story of the "people" within it that we may have missed or overlooked.

The life of Danjong, or Lee Hong-wi, the central subject of the movie, is a history famous and sad enough that every Korean has heard of it at least once. The ill-fated boy king who had his throne usurped by his uncle, Grand Prince Suyang, and his strategist Han Myeong-hoe, and eventually had to end his short life in a distant place of exile. The unofficial history that he was demoted to Prince Nosan, exiled to an isolated space called Cheongnyeongpo in Yeongwol, Gangwon Province, and eventually killed, with his body abandoned in the river without even being recovered, evokes deep compassion in the listener. The movie tackles this widely known tragic narrative head-on, but expands the story through the eyes of the people who stayed by his side, rather than stopping at simply displaying sadness.

The movie grants an interesting setting by exercising imagination centered on the figure of "Eom Heung-do," who appears in historical records. Historically, Eom Heung-do is recorded as a figure of loyalty who secretly recovered and buried Danjong's body, which no one dared to look at for fear of future trouble. The movie adds flesh to this historical fact, starting from the assumption that he might not have been a loyal subject from the beginning. Eom Heung-do, living as the village head of Yeongwol, is portrayed as an extremely snobbish yet human character who expects that if he serves the exiled nobles well, he might get some crumbs when they are reinstated later. This setting breathes vitality into the atmosphere of a historical drama that could easily become heavy, and becomes a device that shows the process of Eom Heung-do gradually transforming into a true loyalist more dramatically.

Eom Heung-do, played by actor Yoo Hae-jin, is a character overflowing with unique slyness and humanity. Without knowing who the "noble person" exiled from Hanyang (Seoul) is, he tries to serve him with utmost sincerity, hoping that a government position might fall to the villagers if he looks good to him. The appearance of Eom Heung-do, who firmly believes the rumor that a past exiled nobleman was reinstated and employed village people, and approaches the newly exiled young boy with all sorts of flattery, is responsible for the laughter in the early part. However, the astonishment and fear when he learns that the person he is serving is none other than the deposed king, Prince Nosan, and the process of gradually feeling compassion for the boy and opening his heart are convincingly portrayed through the deep inner strength of the actor Yoo Hae-jin.

The casting of actor Park Ji-hoon for the role of the ill-fated King Nosan can be called a "God's move." Although viewed with some prejudice at first due to the label of being from the idol group Wanna One, the intense acting skills he showed through the drama Weak Hero Class 1 proved that he is a genuine actor, not just a handsome idol. In this movie, he perfectly digested the precarious appearance of a teenage boy trembling with fear and loneliness deep inside, while trying not to lose the dignity of a king. His appearance, staring into the void with unfocused eyes while wearing shabby exile clothes instead of the splendid royal robe, makes the viewers' hearts ache.

In particular, it is said that actor Park Ji-hoon underwent an extreme diet for this role. To express the devastated appearance of Danjong withering away in the place of exile, he reportedly lost a whopping 15kg by eating only apples and even refrained from drinking water during filming to create drying lips and dry skin. The gaunt face and protruding bones captured on the screen were not makeup, but the product of the actor's desperate effort. This dedicated effort of the actor was conveyed intact to the audience, becoming the driving force that made them deeply empathize and immerse themselves in the pain experienced by the character beyond the screen. The acting chemistry where actor Yoo Hae-jin leads and actor Park Ji-hoon pushes enhanced the completeness of the movie.

The movie breaks down the dam of emotions with 20 minutes left in the second half. The atmosphere of the early and middle parts, which was comic and cheerful, gets sucked into the vortex of historical tragedy, and the audience sobs with bated breath. Sniffling sounds were heard here and there in the theater, and the audience member sitting next to me was immersed in such deep sadness that they couldn't control their flowing tears throughout the second half. The energy of emotion poured out by the two actors, Yoo Hae-jin and Park Ji-hoon, was enough to pierce the screen and turn the auditorium into a sea of tears. Although there are some reviews that the direction is somewhat old-fashioned or regrettable, the sincerity provided by the actors' performances was so overwhelming that those shortcomings were not felt significantly.

It seems that the most popular and commercially viable work in Director Jang Hang-jun's filmography has been born. Director Jang Hang-jun's strength of blending his unique wit and humanism well met the genre of historical drama to create excellent synergy. Also, actor Yoo Ji-tae, appearing as the villain, shows a chilling and imposing appearance of Grand Prince Suyang to the extent that it is hard to believe it is his first historical drama acting, tightly tuning the tension of the play. Here, actor Jeon Mi-do also appears as an unadorned court lady, holding the center of gravity of the play with realistic and solid acting despite her short screen time. The great performances of the actors, regardless of lead or supporting roles, are elements that make this movie shine even brighter.

The Man Who Lives with the King is a masterpiece where the aspects of a tension-filled political thriller, the emotion of a warm human drama, and humor placed in the right places achieve perfect harmony. Above all, the acting of the actors who gave their all makes it possible to predict that they will sweep acting awards at upcoming film festivals. Proving that just the friendship and solidarity of male actors without a single romance line can make the audience cry their eyes out, this movie is expected to succeed in a long run by gathering audiences through word of mouth. Like the saying that there is no future for a people who have forgotten their history, the story of a forgotten king and a man who remembered him throws a heavy message to us living today.