14 June 2024

Movie review: Noryang: Deadly Sea


The sequel to The Admiral: Roaring Currents and Hansan: Rising Dragon, and the epic finale of Yi Sun-sin trilogy, is finally being released digitally! Being the Imjin War enthusiast that I am, of course I wouldn't pass up the chance to review what director Kim Han-min has in store for his audience!

A bit of running joke: Hey, it's commander Yi Ung-ryong (이운룡 or 李雲龍) again! Reprised by the same actor! For reasons unknown he is always the first Joseon commander I recognise.
Noryang: Deadly Sea revolves around the titular Battle of Noryang, the last major battle of Imjin War and the climax of the entire war. This makes it a much easier battle to adapt into a good story/movie, which allows the movie to be largely (albeit not completely) free of the numerous narrative problems that plagued Hansan: Rising Dragon. This is not to say Noryang: Deadly Sea is superior to its prequel, however. In many ways, it is worse.

(Major spoilers ahead, be warned!)

Production issues

The perk of Hanzi writing system: Korean and Chinese communicating by writing is both historically accurate and a great chance to have narrator and actors speak Korean without looking out of place. Unfortunately, the director insisted on using cringe Chinese even when Chinese characters are not verbally communicating. 
Production issues are the least of the movie's many problems, so I am going to mention them first. My first complaint about Noryang: Deadly Sea is that the Chinese language in this movie is atrociously cringe to a native speaker, to the point that I must pause the movie to clear my head every time anyone speaks any Chinese. To be fair, this isn't really a production issue per se (all actors are Korean so it's understandable that they can't speak Chinese), although the production team really should consider hiring some Chinese actors or just dub over the Chinese part.

Yi Sun-sin vomiting blood.
Personal gripe with the language aside, there are definitely some pacing issues with the movie. This is particularly egregious during a scene where the titular character, Yi Sun-shin (이순신 or 李舜臣) suddenly sees hallucination of his deceased son, calls out the names of his comrades one by one as if bidding farewell to them, and vomits blood out of nowhere—BEFORE he was fatally shot by a Japanese gunner. I have a sneaking suspicion that executive meddling forced the director to pad out the length of his movie to the detriment of storytelling. In any case, pacing issues will likely be fixed if the director later releases a Redux/director's cut version of the movie like he did for Hansan: Rising Dragon.

Ming soldiers beating Japanese captives to a pulp.
Thirdly, remember that I said I enjoyed the build-up portion of Hansan: Rising Dragons for all the wrong reasons? Well, the build-up portion of Noryang: Deadly Sea is largely free of the narrative issues of its prequel, but this ironically means that it now bores me to death, as I no longer have any reason, not even wrong one, to enjoy this convoluted mess. I am not even sure if the flashback and minor plot of Yi Sun-sin's dead son is really necessary when the central theme of the story isn't that of personal vendetta, but "to end the war on our terms we must pursue the enemy to the very edge of the (Japanese) archipelago.". Speaking of which, I am well aware this that this is a nationalistic movie and all, but surely such vindictive message can't be the right moral to convey to the audience?

Sea of inferno: Battle of Noryang on the silver screen

Joseon fleet splitting the Japanese fleet in two. Depiction of pre-modern naval battle of such scale, in complete darkness no less, is probably an industry's first.
Historical accounts of Battle of Noryang are rather light on finer details, which give plenty of room for creative liberty. For example, there's nothing in the historical records that describes the Koreans deploying hwacha during this battle, or the Japanese using captured cannons to sink turtle ships, but there's nothing to suggest they DIDN'T either. Thus, free from historical restrictions such as Yi Sun-sin's famous Hak Ik-jin (鶴翼陣), the director was able to let his imagination run wild, and I commend him for delivering such blood-pumping battle sequences. Moreover, barring a few exceptions all characters acted in a mostly logical and coherent manner, and the battle tactics and counter-tactics sensible and convincing, both of which make for an enjoyable watching experience. Regrettably, later portion of the naval action was overshadowed by overly drawn-out, soap opera-esque montages of Yi Sun-sin's final moments and death, although this doesn't detract from the fact that it was great while it lasted.

Nevertheless, despite the enjoyable battle scenes, there are indeed some exceptions, or one might say plot holes, that detract from the overall story. Chief among them are the war fleet of Konishi Yukinaga (小西行長), Chen Lin acting out of character, and the battle that ends at dawn. They will be elaborated below:

Konishi Yukinaga's pristine war fleet

Konishi Yukinaga's fleet.
The story begins with Konishi Yukinaga holed up inside Suncheon Castle due to a joint Ming-Joseon naval blockade, with supply running so low his soldiers were on the verge of resorting to cannibalism. If that is the case, then where did he find/hide such a massive fleet of warships? And why didn't Yi Sun-sin do something about these ships before they become a problem, i.e. destroy them during the blockade?

Chen Lin acting out of character

Chen Lin ordering Ming navy to attack.
In this film, Ming admiral Chen Lin is portrayed as a calculating coward that took bribes and spent the better part of the film trying to distance himself from Yi Sun-sin's war to avoid more bloodshed. Yet during a crucial moment he suddenly ordered Ming navy to press the attack seriously, only to end up with his own flagship boarded by the Japanese. This abrupt change of mind is entirely out of character for Chen Lin's risk-averse portrayal up until that point, and it appears that the director forcibly handed him an idiot ball for no reason other than to set up a "Yi Sun-sin heroically save the Ming admiral from danger" moment.

The battle that ends at dawn

Yi Sun-sin's plan to annihilate Shimazu Yoshihiro's fleet before dawn.
Having the epic struggle to be over by daybreak gives a nice touch of symbolism, signifying the nightmare that terrorised Korea for the past seven years is finally over, and new hope arise. Historically, the turning point of  Battle of Noryang also happened around dawn (although the battle itself continued well into the morning), so that checks out. So why is this a problem?

Shimazu Yoshihiro's subordinate urges him to retreat because "time is running out".

Konishi Yukinaga sounds the retreat, leaving Shimazu Yoshihiro out to dry.
Well, the time when the battle ended isn't a problem. It's only when Yi Sun-sin explicitly set a time limit that he must defeat the Japanese before dawn, Shimazu Yoshihiro became increasingly agitated as daybreak drew near, and Konishi Yukinaga acted as if he was too late after arriving at the scene by dawn, that it become problematic. Why? Because while the battle happens to be over by dawn, there isn't any particular reason that it couldn't, or shouldn't, go on for longer. In essence, by racing against this arbitrary time limit, the characters both good and bad are making decisions based on out-of-story knowledge they couldn't possibly know.

As to why serious plot holes like this can crop up in an otherwise fairly coherent story, this brings me to my next point...

Stolen shine: a sad attempt at ego-boosting

Yi Sun-sin beating the war drum.
At its core, Noryang: Deadly Sea is a nationalistic flick under the guise of historical movie. Attempts to shape the titular hero Yi Sun-sin into a saint among men, and to a lesser extend make the Koreans look good and heroic while everyone else either bad or helpless, permeate throughout the story, dialogues, and character portrayals, some overt, other indirect and subtle. Naturally, in such work historical realities are more of a hindrance than a boon. They are inconvenient truth that must be distorted to serve the narrative, not the other way around.

Shimazu Yoshihiro reading the secret letter sent to him by Konishi Yukinaga.
To illustrate, in a secret letter Konishi Yukinaga warned Shimazu Yoshihiro that Yi Sun-sin might counter-invade Japan after the war. This obviously untrue statement may appear to be just another off-handed chest thumping to make Yi Sun-sin look good and Joseon Kingdom appear more powerful than it really was (which is usually par of the course for a nationalistic movie but relatively harmless, although not in this case), however it actually underpins much of the history distortions that shape the movie's story, and the plot holes that come with such alterations. 

You see, in the historical version of Battle of Noryang, Konishi Yukinaga simply packed up and slipped away from Suncheon Castle while the battle raged on. However, in order to glorify Yi Sun-sin, the director made him a dangerous commander that the Japanese simply could not ignore (even after they lost the war), necessitating the antagonists to hatch a nefarious plot to defeat him, which in turn necessitating Konishi Yukinaga to conjure a war fleet out of thin air to threaten Yi Sun-sin with. Thus, a plot hole came into being. 

It also necessitates Yi Sun-sin using decoys to delay Konishi Yukinaga, rather than...you know, smash his idle fleet before he had a chance to use it.
Likewise, that Chen Lin was the supreme commander that led the allied navy to victory during Battle of Noryang, and Ming navy actually did most of the legworks during the battle, are all inconvenient historical facts to the director's story that must be written off/away. There's a reason why Battle of Noryang played out so differently from Yi Sun-sin's other naval victories, for instance the unusually heavy use of incendiary weapons, little aversion to boarding combat, and the main artillery being Chinese Hu Dun Pao (虎蹲砲) rather than the usual Joseon Chongtong (총통 or 銃筒). But nope, can't have that, Yi Sun-sin must hoard all the spotlights! So Chen Lin is portrayed as a coward that tried to avoid battle at all cost, while Chinese Huo Qiu (火毬) and Pen Tong (噴筒) are being replaced by unimaginative oil pots hand-thrown by Joseon troops then ignited with fire arrows. 

Had Chen Lin not been portrayed as a coward, the scene where his ship was boarded by the Japanese and he was saved by Yi Sun-sin would've flowed far more naturally. Unfortunately, the director wanted to have his cake and eat it too, so he forced Chen Lin to abruptly change from a coward to a Leeroy Jenkins in the span of like two scenes, so that Yi Sun-sin can look good by heroically saving his inept Chinese ally from danger, plot hole be damned. Historically, it was Yi Sun-sin's ship that got surrounded by the Japanese first, then Chen Lin charged in to save Yi Sun-sin, only to cause the Japanese switch target and surround him instead. The freed Yi Sun-sin then returned to help Chen Lin, and the two fought side by side until dawn. Alas, such moving tale of fire-forged camaraderie, butchered into a plot hole-ridden ego boosting.

And what about the dawn?

The breaking of the dawn.
By itself, various characters in the movie subconsciously racing against an arbitrary time limit is a relatively minor problem, more of a director oversight or dialogue slip than a story-ruining plot hole. However, the fact that such oversight can exist in the first place shows that the director probably did his historical homework—but chose to discard historical events that inconvenience his narrative anyway. Why? Because one notable event did take place at dawn—Deng Zilong (鄧子龍) came in gun blazing and saved the day!

Deng Zilong, an old soldier by the time of his death (he used to be a commander but was demoted to the rank of common soldier before entering Korea), was the last of the major characters to join the fray, but the first to set fire to Japanese warships. His success prompted Chen Lin and other Ming ships to follow suit with their own incendiary weapons, and this was what caused the Japanese to finally break ranks and flee. Unfortunately, his ship was hit by friendly fire during pursuit, and the ensuing chaos allowed Japanese troops to board the vessel and kill nearly all hands aboard. Due to Deng Zilong's low rank and relative obscurity, the Japanese didn't realise they had killed someone of significance until centuries later, so no one at the time claimed credit for his death. 

Deceased son ex machina
Drum-inflicted PTSD.
Bah, can't have that either. There's no way the director will allow another heroic sacrifice to detract from Yi Sun-sin's own, so nothing in particular happened at dawn in the film (despite everyone keeping track of the time limit). Well, nothing except Yi Sun-sin suddenly saw a vision of his deceased son who prompted him to start beating the war drum, and this inspired the good guys to fight harder while inflicting a psychological meltdown on the villain Shimazu Yoshihiro so horrid he ran to cower in his room and literally start vomiting (no really).

Deng Zilong getting his head sliced off by Shimazu Yoshihiro.
As for Deng Zilong, he was reduced by director to what can be described as "Yi Sun-sin's believer", an inferior who was "redeemed" and was so devout to the hero that he put him above all others and strove to emulate him, going so far as to confronting his own superior and attacking without order. Too bad the hero's imitator is not the hero himself, so Deng Zilong died an unceremonious death without accomplishing anything.

Chen Chan died a speed bump to Shimzau Yoshihiro's villainy.
Shen Li getting shanked by Japanese troops.
Moreover, as if Deng Zilong's death still wasn't enough to rub it in, the director then decided to kill off minor Ming commander Chen Chan (陳蠶) to re-emphasise Chinese incompetence, and make another minor Ming commander Shen Li (沈理) undergo some kind of foxhole conversion (except he didn't convert to Christianity but to Yi Sun-sin), and found redemption in valiant death—better to die fighting like a Korean than live like a coward! Never mind that both of them survived the war, and Chen Chan even stayed in Korea for two more years (he returned to China in 1600). Because why let history get in the way of the stirring tall tale of our lord and saviour Yi Sun-sin?

I know, Noryang: Deadly Sea is a nationalistic movie, so some measures of embellishment and glorifications of the titular hero are inevitable. But doing it in such blatantly denigrating manner, even to allies, it just seems so...tactless and petty.

Further reading

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4 comments:

  1. What did you think about the armour props used in the movie? I think the Japanese were great, the Joseon fish scale armour was obviously unhistorical, but so iconic I can understand why they included it, and the Ming armour seemed vaguely okay to me, the 'brave' helmets should have been red, the Northern Ming armour seemed fine but some of the side commanders seemed to have unhistorical armour. I think Chen Lin's 'scaled' helmet is reflected by a Tomb Guard statue so there is historical precedent and the use of scale armour was fine, but I'm not sure about the scale shoulder pads, I don't think I've seen scale armour used for shoulders.

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    1. Chinese armours in the movie have a strong "these are props" feel to it, they especially the armguards remind me of China's taobao-grade "cheap affordable armour", and probably a few years outdated at that. As is often the case, costumes for random background soldiers are more accurate than characters with speaking lines.

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  2. I guess I can't blame the Koreans, the embarrassing historical fact is it was Korea that suffered ignominious defeat and Ming China that came to the rescue. It was the Ming military that provided Korea some martial backbone, it was Chinese soldiers and sailors that did most of the fighting. With the exception of the Military Monks on the Korean side, the Koreans were only good at skirmishes and guerilla troops.

    I would wish for a Chinese version of events of the Imjin War but for Ming China this Japanese incursion into Korea was a minor war, with Mongols, Jurchen and even Burmese being a bigger problem.

    But the Imjin War can serve as a sort of bonding agent for China, Japan and Korea, something to remember and never repeat. This sad event can serve the three major East Asian nations as a source for unity and cooperation perhaps?

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    1. @Der
      I wouldn't call this Korea's "defeat" since Ming and Joseon fought together as ally, so together they won it. While it is true that an unreliable ally often hamper more than it helps, it is still difficult to arbitrarily "dissect" an alliance and say that this portion lost the war while the other portion won it.

      As for modern Koreans glorifying Yi, it's likely for nationalistic purposes, which I am certainly unwilling to touch.

      BTW Imjin War was also a pretty large war by Ming standard. Certainly bigger than border wars with the Burmese.

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