A man who embraces while preserving a partner’s individuality··· sparking excitement in an era when love is hard - 경향신문
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Singer Hwasa (right) and actor Park Jung-min present a performance at the 46th Blue Dragon Film Awards ceremony. KBS YouTube capture
On November 19, the 46th Blue Dragon Film Awards ceremony took place. Despite criticisms that prizes were distributed based more on the fame of directors or actors than on the artistic quality or significance of the films, and that the ceremony structure still leaves out the staff who make movies together, the biggest buzz of the night was born in a congratulatory performance. Singing Good Goodbye, released a month earlier, Hwasa filled the stage entirely on her own, without backup dancers, special effects, or flashy choreography. Just as the audience sank into her verve and charm, actor Park Jung-min appeared. Park had played Hwasa’s lover in the Good Goodbye music video, which had been widely loved since release. Facing Park, Hwasa kept singing with a few simple moves. Holding her shoes, Park watched, briefly mimicked a short gesture, and joined in on the final lyric, the goodbye. The moment drew real-time attention and has continued to spread even after the festival ended.
Ah, it is good. Good, is it not? Truly good. Why does it feel good? The specialness is completed when combined with the enthusiastic response of the public. As views for the stage video exploded, KBS eagerly rowed with the tide by releasing a solo cam and a reaction cam. Hwasa’s song climbed back up to number 1 on the charts, and the one-minute clip rode the algorithm as a heart-fluttering video. Short-form clips and comments dissected, almost at the nano level, where exactly the good feeling comes from. Why does this short clip draw such immersion, deliver a fullness like watching a whole movie, and never get old no matter how many times you replay it? Like the lyrics by Kim Guk-hwan about having been born naked but at least having secured one set of clothes, the Blue Dragon this year, which otherwise drew little attention, found its fairy robe in Hwasa’s stage. The small ball sent up by Hwasa and Park Jung-min is an icon of the kind of romance that people today consider most ideal and beautiful. This is a combination made possible because each of them carries the image and history built over time. Underneath it all lies a modern yearning for love and acceptance that does not wither even in a reality where ideal romance has come to seem impossible.
Let us examine it piece by piece. First, the Blue Dragon performance sprang from Hwasa’s Good Goodbye music video. A singular female solo artist, Hwasa tried a different concept this time. Good Goodbye sings of a once-in-love couple who now let each other go and accept even the pain of doing so. Hwasa cast Park Jung-min herself, and both keep their striking individuality in the video. Hwasa throws off her heels and runs, wears a wedding dress with sunglasses while chewing gum and showing off impish charm. She tosses her luggage and shows her scabbed knees. Beside her, Park quietly follows while holding her shoes, or watches her dance. About the only moment he does something to her is when he brushes aside her bangs. This added realism to the romance, and it spread widely as a depiction of a boyfriend who accepts a girlfriend who goes her own way. As one teasing comment put it, a couple who look like they never listen to each other, the mischievous, free tone is amplified by the images associated with Hwasa and Park. Within standards and harsh evaluations that constrict female celebrities, Hwasa has been dragged onto the cutting board over whether she wears underwear and tormented by mockery and interference that impose uniform looks. Oscillating between a flood of hate comments and praise, she sang in Maria that she had eaten so much abuse it made her sick and that even if it is bitter, what can you do, would knocking her down feed anyone, and in I love my body she snapped that each feature of her face is quite all right, that there are hundreds of millions of standards so what exactly is right, that there is only one answer, I love my body, and why anyone was so curious about whether she had lost weight or not. In other words, in a way only Hwasa would.
When a woman is not docile and cannot be pressed down, the threat deployed against her is a curse that nobody will love or accept you. Here, love of course means the love of a man. That divides the inner life of a heterosexual woman. It can feel like there are only two choices: shave down the self to fit the mold in order to get that love, or resist the coercion that holds love hostage by declaring that you do not want the love of a man. Because the world values the love and recognition of men so highly, rejecting and throwing that away can be an act of resistance. Yet the desire to love, and to exist as oneself within intimacy, is also natural and valid. That is why, next to Hwasa, the presence of a lover who treats the actions of a woman whom the world calls peculiar as nothing out of the ordinary appears all the more special. Rather than forcing her to put on heels or nagging her to do so, he quietly carries them and follows her, and when she hurls them away, he simply watches warmly. On top of that, with a body that clearly looks unrelated to dance, he joins the choreography because she wants to, which is the finishing touch. The timeless law of romance comes across anew to women today who fear that romance might devour their uniqueness and identity: she can be a little outrageous and still be loved, perhaps loved because of that. Hence the comments that resonated under the Blue Dragon clip spoke of Hwasa flowing freely under the gaze of Park Jung-min that seems ready to accept everything, and the viral short-form titles called it the look that watches how far a tomboyish girlfriend will go.
In some ways the board was well laid. With the table set by Hwasa, any actor could have simply picked up a spoon, and the setup would still have thrived even if it were not Park Jung-min. Yet just as that moment was enlivened because it was Hwasa, Park seasons it perfectly because he is Park. Leaving a strong impression in each role through his own mood and interpretation, Park is also a faithful reader who even founded a press to make books, a slightly unusual path. His appeal shows in the clip where he sings Worry Addiction on <Rainbow by Lee Young-ji>(KBS2TV). He hits the high notes decently enough, yet with a jiggle of the body, awkward eye work, and an unpolished voice that trails off as he mumbles that he likes someone, he delivers the raw realism of accidentally opening the wrong karaoke room door. It feels real. Why does it feel real? While grumbling that it is annoying when a handsome actor is also good at acting, Park as a character, which seems to make no effort to look cool (even if that, too, is staged and calculated), carries over to the end of the splendid stage with Hwasa, then breaks the spell by yelling about the shoes. There is a tension that this person is not a blank cushion who only receives and accommodates, and that just as Park accepts the tomboyish girlfriend, Hwasa also has to put up with this infuriating boyfriend, which secures the fun of their dynamic. With a very realistic weight.
As the stage by Hwasa and Park took off, there were unsavory rumors about people practicing or studying the so-called Park Jung-min gaze. Playful games between lovers are one thing··· the reason Park makes hearts flutter in that moment is not reducible to fragmentary elements like posture or the eyes. The desire of women for romance and for a good man is not that simple. Reality, however, is harsh and dangerous. In one poll, 58% said they could not date someone whose political orientation differs from their own. Among people in their twenties and thirties, often called the protagonists of today’s dating scene, gendered political differences are more stark than ever. On November 14, 114 women dressed in black gathered in front of Bosingak in Jongno-gu, Seoul. In a performance organized by the Korea Women’s Hotline, they noted that 114 women had been killed or threatened with murder despite reporting to the police and receiving protective measures, which means one person is victimized every three days.
Yearning for love in a world where love seems impossible. In contrast to a masculinity steeped in swagger, victimhood, and violence on online communities, Park draws affection by taking the risk of looking a little goofy as he does his best to sing, and by being a publishing head who gets teased by his own staff. Just as the once beloved idea of a safe older man, considered good because he did not desire me, had its day, the baton has passed to a man who keeps his own distinctiveness while also knowing how to accept the other as is. The Blue Dragon stage was an event that proved such public desire. In this process, there is no need to load too much symbolism and expectation onto imperfect individuals, nor to mock the very wish to keep looking for a good man.
