Green Fish: A commentary on what is real development

By Rosario Brenda Gonzalez

Green Fish is the directorial debut of Lee Chang-dong, one of South Korea’s internationally known directors. It marked his career shift from writing novels to making movies. Asked why he made that life changing decision when he was already 40-years old, Lee answered in an interview that it was a long and complicated story. “When I thought of myself as a novelist and as a person, I didn’t feel like I wanted to continue walking the same path,” Lee explained.

And his journey led him initially to Green Fish, a gangster movie that is really about establishing one’s identity amidst a changing South Korean economic and socio-political landscape. It is the story of Mak-dong, played excellently by Han Suk-kyu, who returned to his home in the countryside after a stint in the military and found that it is no longer the place that he once knew.

On the train ride going home, Mak-dong first saw Mi-ae whose shawl was accidentally flown away covering Mak-dong’s face. Mak-dong then went to rescue her from thugs forcing him to leave his things on the train.

Upon arriving in his place, he is met by his mentally challenged older brother. He is surprised to see that the rice paddies and trees of his beloved Ilsan are now gone and have been replaced by high-rise apartments.

But it is not only his physical environment that has changed. His siblings except his mentally challenged brother have left their home. They have gone on to different jobs – a brother is an egg delivery man while another one is an often-drunk cop. Although his sister tried to hide it from him, he eventually found out that she is now a prostitute from whom he hesitatingly received some cash as he is still trying to find a job. His mother earns a living as a household helper.

It is not only in his beloved Ilsan but also in many rural areas turned cities that jobs are hard to come. The only available ones are those similar to the ones taken by his family members. Mak-dong moved to Seoul, his country’s capital to work eventually finding Mi-ae again. He became part of the gang of mob boss Bae Tae-gon who turned out to be Mi-ae’s boyfriend.

Mak-dong and Mi-ae would soon fall for each other but discreetly. They realize they can never be together as they have no control of much of their lives. Theirs is a sad and poignant relationship intertwined with the harsh reality of organized crime’s rules and norms. They are trapped in a situation largely affected by factors they consider outside of their own sphere of influence.

Mi-ae portrayed by model turned actress Shim Hye-jin is a singer in a night club owned by Bae Tae-gon. Her sensual singing that has got Mak-dong mesmerized, however, fails to attract attention among an almost indifferent yet normal nightclub crowd. On the other hand, Mak-dong’s sincere aspirations for his family to finally come live together as they manage their own restaurant business further drew admiration from Mi-ae. She seems captivated by his naivete and sincere yet often improbable vision.

It is the dream of a stable life for his family that has prompted Mak-dong to work hard from a driver to being in the inner circle of Bae Tae-gon. What would transpire eventually is a tragic tale of loss and betrayal. Mak-dong’s optimism and ambition is overtaken by the harsh reality of human and societal frailties. His strong instinct and desire proved to be no match to what has become of society’s penchant for the rule of the moneyed and powerful. His limited life choices pushed him to the depths of despair.

With Green Fish, Lee Chang-dong raises important questions about the individual, society and urbanization. It is noteworthy that he compares the aims of urban development to that of organized crime. He mentioned in an interview that both seek to achieve economic development and increase in wealth. Does it mean that turning agricultural lands into residential houses for the rich and middle class is similar to committing crimes within a hierarchical and violent context? Director Lee has no direct answers but Green Fish provides a perspective for the audience to answer this and related questions.

Done in 1997, Green Fish remains a sharp commentary on what constitutes real people’s development. It does not offer alternatives but paves the way for people to re-think failed development strategies. Land conversion can be substituted with government intervention in land distribution, cooperativism and provision of agricultural inputs. Had this been the practice, Mak-dong and his family would not end up in jobs that they loathe but in work that is close to the land and close to their hearts.

Green Fish sets the trend for succeeding Lee Chang-dong’s films by focusing on how societal issues affect the individual especially those belonging to the marginalized groups: the physically and mentally challenged in Oasis, the single mother in Secret Sunshine, the elderly afflicted with Alzheimer’s disease in Poetry, the lower middle-class employee in Peppermint Candy and the farmer’s son in Burning.

Lee’s films have unique stories that delve on the normal day-to-day lives of ordinary people in extraordinary circumstances. Struggles against discrimination, government ineptness and profit-oriented development schemes are reflected in personal experiences. Social and economic issues are shown to impact the lives of those in the margins in ways that are different from those above them in the class structure. It is this rich humanism and serious meditative stance that separate all Lee Chang-dong’s films from commercialized and profit-driven movies.

Hence, Green Fish introduced the brand of cinema championed by Lee Chang-dong: mostly slow-paced, sometimes enigmatic, and oftentimes relevant scenes that leave you enthralled, enamored, and eventually energetic because you need to act on that irony, wrongdoing and injustice paraded before your eyes. The first part of Green Fish may tire and bore you, but wait till it slowly but surely grows on you. And that affection for this first attempt at movie making is certain to be lasting. #

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Rosario Brenda Gonzalez is a long-time development worker who discovered South Korean films and television series during the pandemic. She was encouraged to review 18 South Korean movies, 2 South Korean television series, and 1 Japanese television series upon realizing that many of these tackled social issues in an informative and entertaining manner.

A BA Journalism graduate of UP Diliman, Ms. Gonzalez has been a project evaluator and development management trainer for more than three decades. Prior to that, she was a human rights and church worker.