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Light in Day, in Night, and in Episode 11 of The Red Sleeve

The past few episodes have been a roller coaster of new plot points and the like (especially the Fairy Palace stuff, wow), but as always, I'm here to nitpick a very certain cinematic choice. Today, it's light.

The best place for me to start with this, and what had caught my attention first, was the hallucination scene in episode 3. Yi San was at the library, their rendezvous, and he was missing Deokim after she, unbeknownst to him, saved his life (again). Suddenly, light emerges from opposite him, and he sees Deokim reading and smiles at her. When he realises it's a hallucination, the light disappears, and so does his happiness.

It's quite an obvious tool: light for good, dark for bad.

Now I don't think this show does any remarkable subversion of the utilisation of light, but what I think they employ cleverly is time of day, which is inextricably correlated to light.

Interactions between the king and Yi San where Yi San is reminded brutally of his father, doused in expectations, and has his efforts go unnoticed all occur in the night. The scene in episode 3 of him being surrounded by the dragon, the scene in episode 5 where he incurs humiliation in front of Deokim, powerfully, the scene in episode 10 where the king takes the military seal he'd given to Yi San back. The darkness from night and the ill-lit settings convey the message of the scene in two layers: the first, the obvious; what is transpiring is bad, as per the narrative, for the protagonist. The second, the underlying criticism of the actions. These scenes are not shown in light because the narrative is acknowledging them as actions that belong to darkness. There is an inadvertent criticism of the king's actions and portrayal of them being wrong.

In episode 11, Deokim, too, moves in the dark, in the night, to save Yi San's life (again!) but what I notice lies differently here is that she's surrounded by light, no matter the time of day. There are torches in Princess Hyebin's residence, and in her rooms candles are lit. Deokim's face is always seen in full, with it being completely lit by the light. In the scene progressing parallel to it, Yi San and his tutor's faces are both only half-lit by the light. This contrast draws to the trust the parties share between one another: Deokim trusts Princess Hyebin with her aims, and she trusts that those aims will be followed through. Yi San and his tutor both have a mutual distrust with another, thus not allowing either of them to observe the other's face in full.

Back to what I really wanted to point out through this, though: the king's calling of a meeting in the morning confused me. As noted, the scenes where I've noticed all the humiliation and degradation of Yi San by him have occurred in the night. In the scene as well, he is almost unnaturally lit, the gold on his attire glows. I'm unsure of what this suggests. Is Yi San going to suffer more? Is the king going to 'see the light?'

It's interesting to think about. If I've missed anything, or if you have any alternate theories, let me know! Ask box is always open.

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The Ending Scene of Episode 5 of The Red Sleeve: Yi San's Humiliation and Deokim's Empowerment

The end of episode 5 kicked me to write this, so as requested I'm elaborating on what I observed and why the power imbalance did not strike me as disastrously in the very last scene despite its premise.

As a necessary disclaimer, I should add that my enchantment with this drama has likely contributed to a less objective reading of the scene. Proceed appropriately warned.

I'd say first is figuring the power dynamics out. This scene is extended from the very romantic moment of Yi San and Deokim reciting poetry to each other while Yi San is confined, where they bicker and eventually succumb to the melancholy of their situation. It's all very poetic, very symbolic. I'd say that there, contextually, despite any social standing of theirs, Deokim and Yi San were in the same situation. No power imbalance strikes out, because court lady or crown prince, they both cannot pursue this romantic relationship by virtue of their castes. The blame, there, is equally shared. Then his royal highness interrupts the mood and things go terribly downhill.

I puzzled on how to put this down, but most straight-forwardly: Yi San is humiliated in front of Deokim. His grandfather assumes him to be 'chasing skirts and neglecting studies,' implies terrible things about his father, tells him that he needs to earnestly change who he is, and hits him. The crown prince of the nation is reduced of his dignity and beaten like a child being violently disciplined. And Deokim can hear this all through the door. When the king leaves, it is just Yi San who has been made vulnerable in front of Deokim, and here enters the dynamic of Deokim holding more power over Yi San: she has knowledge on what transpires behind the closed doors of the palace and whose shadow the crown prince lives in. This could have been any servant in Deokim's place and they would have the same knowledge, but I think the effect is enhanced by Deokim given, obviously, their relationship.

And what does Yi San proceed to do? Completely lay himself bare. He admits his deepest desires here and confesses what he truly wants, not only from his imminent position on the throne, but from Deokim as well. Deokim then defies the one rule she was meant to follow and pledges servitude to Yi San. And here, very quickly, a run-down: a woman of lowly status pledges servitude to a man of status where his word could get her killed. Feels obnoxiously imbalanced. But it isn't.

Contextually: Deokim, who has thus far been unable to decide her fate for herself, has made a choice here to declare where she intends her loyalty to lie. I see this as her making the best she can of where she is, perhaps shaping her own ambitions by aligning herself with the crown prince. Further, she is also choosing to allow her affections to grow by aligning herself with the crown prince, which I find particularly admirable as well. All in all, rather than this act being degrading, it is made out of her own will and she works to convey it. This is not something that has made her lesser or weaker.

With the added knowledge of episode 6, which had not aired at the time I had written this, we can safely say that Deokim's pledge of loyalty did not go to waste, and she was the one by whose help the crown prince could be freed from his confinement and gain an ally.

Looking forward to what will unravel next week!

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A Somewhat Feminist Analysis on Yi San and Deokim's Relationship, the Effects of Trauma by and regardless of Caste, and Why I'm a Little Confused by The Red Sleeve

I've been wondering about why, despite such a glaring power imbalance, I'm still very on board with Yi San/Deokim... if this was a modern times drama, I would have clicked off the moment Yi San refers to Deokim as a 'lowly servant,' but here I don't know why, it all felt much less patronising. Was it because I knew it would get better? Even if it's contextualised as being entrenched in a caste system, and even if it's true to its time, I still think there's something about them that struck differently.

Deokim is a well-established character; she does not feel like a lackluster female lead. We've seen her own intentions and suffering. She has her passions in transcription, and she's a renowned storyteller, and she seems fairly competent at her work. But we've also seen her life being threatened more than once and always being played off as between comedic and serious (and famously, with those in power claiming that they weren't going to kill her anyway). It's been established time and time again by various characters how little the life of a court lady is worth. Perhaps because we know Deokim's fate that we know she means more than a 'mere court lady,' or perhaps because now Deokim has fallen into the crown prince's affections that she will not be treated as terribly as any other court lady would be. It's not the happiest outcome, and it's not, in my opinion, the feminist understanding we want to establish.

I suppose notable development in Yi San's attitude would be valuing the life of every court lady — rather, every servant — and not treating them as disposable. I hope the later episodes provide us with some progress in this area, for historically Jeongjo is noted as a benevolent king, and without this consideration of his subjects, he should not be able to progress to that point. I presume it is Deokim who brings that change about in him. That's also a common trope. I'm beginning to think the acting has been so phenomenal and the romance so beautifully done that I have looked past just how riddled with cliches this drama is. It's definitely something to be praised for.

Another aspect: Yi San is, like every male lead, traumatised to no end. His is unique: it's a trauma only those with the weight of a nation on their shoulders can experience. You would never find trauma so particularly elite. It's funny. This is meant to justify his actions and provide, I think, some basis to his impending benevolence. In the end of episode 5, his trauma and suffering is connected explicitly with his yearning to succeed the throne and to help people. His pain is meant to provide him a catalyst to understanding other people's pain, despite the vast differences in lifestyle subsequent of caste divisions. Why, again, is Deokim necessary to his development when he's already so sensitised? I'm starting to think they don't want to give her much character after all.

We've all fallen prey to this in other dramas, where the female lead is introduced with her own ambitions and achievements only to be united with the male lead and his cause by the end of the drama. I don't know how far this show wants to be a feminist telling, and I don't know what they have in store for Deokim's character, but seeing how she's being integrated into Yi San's membership-only conspiracy club, and seeing how he asks her to stay by his side, I think around here her individuality will be considerably watered-down. I do wish to be proved wrong.

To conclude: I have to praise the acting and writing for promoting so romantically this relationship that inherently succumbs to the cliches of "You're-the-only-person-who-has-treated-me-like-this" and "I-hate-your-kind-but-I'll-make-an-exception-for-you." Yi San's trauma appears dichotomous, to me, as a praise and criticism of his high caste; how oppressed he is despite being of the most powerful. Lastly, I'm excited to see what's in store for Deokim and I'm dreading to see what's in store for Deokim. I hope her story progresses as her own.

(I have a follow-up post planned to dissect the last scene of episode 5 and why specifically there the power imbalance did not strike me as severely, if you're interested, let me know!)

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Costume and Colour in The Devil Judge

In The Devil Judge, costume design serves to display motives of characters through colour. White, usually regarded as innocence, takes a more vulnerable, more exposed expression. I first noticed this in the contrast between Kang Yohan and Cha Kyunghee when they met in episode 4, where even their cars reflected their outfits: Yohan’s black, Minister Cha’s white.

I had understood at first a possible subversion — Cha Kyunghee was markedly the antagonist here, so making her wear white challenged this established ‘white-is-good-black-is-bad’ narrative. However, looking at it more closely, at this moment, Cha Kyunghee is vulnerable. This is solidified by her wearing white in a subsequent scene in episode 11 where she asks to meet Yohan. She is being attacked from all sides: the accusations of bribery and corruption against her, the suffering her son has had to endure, and the dwindling support of President Heo and the chairmen. In this scene, she is begging for Yohan to let her go. She is dressed in white because she has no more tricks up her sleeve, and she is at Yohan’s mercy. She cannot abide by his ultimatum either: she has no choice.

These events lead up to her suicide in the same episode, where she is wearing a lighter colour upon a darker colour — a reluctance to show vulnerability, especially for the act that she is going to commit. It is worth mentioning that in the family photo she holds, she wears white.

Jung Sunah is a character whose outfits have varied consistently throughout the show. She is introduced as a secretary, wearing clothes that show a fair amount of skin and are usually dark in colour. As the show progresses, Sunah’s outfits change. The instances where she wears white are notable, as they reflect her true feelings. For me, one of the pivotal moments was in episode 7, where she killed her abuser, Chairman Seo. At this moment, she did what she was holding back from having done a long time ago, and exacts revenge for how she suffered.

Another instance is when she kidnaps Yohan: she wears a long-sleeved white gown, conserative compared to her other clothing, and shares with Yohan what she desires, exposing her vulnerabilities (episode 5-6).

In the scenes where she visits the Kang mansion as well, she wears white: the dinner with the Kangs and Gaon, where she had still been distanced by Gaon’s making of foreign food rather than Korean food (episode 11).

When she visits the Kang mansion to reveal herself as being the mastermind behind Gaon and Yohan meeting each other and consequently all their subsequent actions, she wears a white pantsuit, which is unusual of her typical choices of dress (episode 15).

Admirably, in both scenes that Sunah does her ‘power pose,’ she wears white. For Sunah, the more ‘exposed’ she is (in wearing her short dresses and skirts), the more she is hiding. When she has laid herself bare as she does in episode 15, her clothing choice (the pantsuit) reflects this as well as vulnerability.

In her taking her own life as well, she wears white. Her last words (tragically, in my opinion), are to Yohan, and are reflective of her true desires. She died leaving her vulnerabilities out in the open.

Colour lightens for the male leads as well when they are vulnerable. In scenes in the Kang mansion where Gaon lives with Yohan and Elijah, all parties wear light-coloured clothing. This signifies their comfort and lack of inhibition around the others. It is developed cleverly, and what I appreciate is in episode 12, where Gaon leaves the mansion, Yohan returns to his darker shades of clothing.

Storytelling through costume was not a cinematic choice that had occurred to me before I watched this show. I am constantly impressed by how such details are conveyed to an audience, and how they might subconsciously influence the perception of certain characters, or, in my case, tip-off the moods and positions of the characters before they have been established. It is interesting to see how, aesthetically, even clothes can be telling of a character.