One of the darkest chapters in South Korean history is chronicled in “12.12: Today,” a dramatic account of the 1979 coup that followed the assassination of authoritarian President Park Chung-hee on October 26. Meticulously written and extremely well performed by a first-rate cast including Hwang Jung-min (“Deliver Us from Evil”), director and co-writer Kim Sung-soo’s first feature film since 2016 is a highly suspenseful political thriller. – A thriller that ventures where no South Korean film has done before. This forensic examination of the events that dashed hopes for democratic reform and plunged the nation into another eight years of harsh military rule was a smashing success in its December 2023 release in Korea. It now represents a worthy contender in the Best International Feature Film Oscar race as the country’s submission in the category.
With a domestic box office total of $91.7 million, “12.12” is among those films that serve a purpose beyond entertainment. As the first South Korean film to dramatize this critical and painful moment in its contemporary history—the opening text tells us that “the story of that winter was completely hidden”—it has been embraced by South Korean audiences as part of a national reckoning and truth. -Speaking and contemplating. The clear message to viewers in a country that has found its way to true participatory democracy is: “This is what happened in 1979, and it should never happen again.” This message is even more acute in the wake of the short period of martial law declared by current President Yoon Suk-yeol on December 3, and the major political repercussions that followed.
In telling this story, Kim and his colleagues were aware of South Korea’s strict defamation laws and changed the names of the participants, adding a disclaimer that the characters and events were “fictionally created for dramatic purposes.” Since everyone’s identity is clear and the chronology of events is precise, this does not dilute the film’s impact. However, there is a somewhat strange viewing experience when watching depictions of real characters whose names have been changed slightly to avoid potential legal problems.
The first of these mysterious figures from the past is the coup leader and head of the Defense Security Command, General Chun Doo-guang (Hwang Jung-min), based on Chun Doo-hwan, who ruled for eight years as a military dictator in the wake of these events. Placed in charge of investigating the assassination of long-time President Park — an event depicted in Im Sang-soo’s 2005 harshly satirical film “The President’s Last Bang,” which was subject to legal action and censorship upon its release — Chun soon comes into conflict with General Lee Tae Shin (Jung Woo Song).
Modeled after Jang Tae-wan, commander of the Capital Garrison Command in Seoul, Lee is commissioned by the Chief of Staff of the Armed Forces, General Jeong Sang-ho (Lee Seung-min, who played President Park in the 2020s film The Man Standing Next). ) to maintain stability while the orderly transfer of power is overseen by Prime Minister-turned-acting-president Choi Han-gyu (real-life Choi Kyu-ha, played by distinguished veteran Jung Dong-hwan).
Kim’s film begins at full speed, with Chun sensing his opportunity to exploit a temporary power vacuum, then never giving in as his group of confidants facilitate the plan by bribing, intimidating, and murdering his fellow soldiers. Letting all his flashy acting chops slide without ever turning into a goofball, Hwang is a monstrous character whose combination of charisma, swaggering arrogance, and sewer rat cunning inspires equal measures of fear and loyalty among the co-conspirators. He says: “The night of the revolution is short, but its glory lasts forever.”
Less flashy but equally commanding is Jung as the upright military man who is determined to respect the law and prevent Chun from seizing power. Despite his inevitable association with Park’s oppressive regime, General Lee is expertly written and cast as a patriotic hero who defends the principles of honor and due process on which the nation is founded. It also helps that the 6’1″ Young towers over several cast members, including Hwang, giving Lee a physical authority that matches his moral and ethical uprightness.
One of the screenplay’s strongest sources of suspense, especially given that the end result is already known, is its visceral examinations of loyalty and human psychology in times of extreme pressure. As the tentacles of Chun’s support within the armed forces are revealed, there is much talk about Hanaho, a private military society that evolved from a group founded by Chun in the 1950s and composed of selected graduates of the Korean Military Academy. As the rebellion gains momentum, those loyal to Hanaho, like sleeper agents from spy movie fiction, become traitors by standing behind Chun to prove that their obedience trumps any oath to protect the nation and its citizens. A striking example is 9th Division commander General Roh Tae-joon (Park Jae-hoon, excellent), a weak-willed lackey tempted by power and greed who leans on Roh Tae-woo, Chun’s successor as president in 1988.
The psychology of this rebellion can also be seen through the lens of Korean education and seniority. Chun-Li’s disdain as a soldier who did not attend KMA and came through Officer Candidate School (and thus is not part of Hanahoe) is an intrinsic part of the drama. The importance of age as a powerful indicator of authority – a principle derived from the influence of Confucianism in Korean society – is clearly evident as junior officers and ordinary soldiers are caught, sometimes tragically, between these notions and their duties to the nation.
While it can be difficult to understand all the nuances of the relationships and keep track of who exactly is on whose side among the densely populated roster of characters, Kim’s strong direction and Kim Sang-bum’s careful editing leave no doubt as to where the lead is. The players sit down. The film provides a clear and convincing picture of how every tactical movement and counter-action played out on the city streets and military installations of Seoul. Kim enacts any number of thrilling action scenes, with large-scale movements of troops and armored vehicles bringing the drama to a thrilling and thrilling climax.
With excellent contributions from cinematographer Lee Mo-gae (“Exhuma”), lighting collaborator Lee Seong-hwan, production designers Jang Geun-young and Eun Hee-sang, and acclaimed composer Lee Jae-jin (“Asura”), the mood is alternately moody and propulsive. “12.12: Today” is that rare cinematic entity that functions as a brilliantly entertaining thriller while contributing to the national interest. The Korean title translates to “Seoul Spring,” an ironic reference to the flowering of freedoms and democracy that was hoped for in 1979 but did not materialize until many years later.