Masquerade

Last year's South Korean box office champion (a No. 3 all-time grossing picture in the history of Korean cinema), this period drama stars Byung-hun Lee for a meaty dual role, the king and his doppelgänger scoundrel, intricately chronicles a spell of 15 days' clandestine regency under the helm of the said doppelgänger.

A grandeur of a period drama pivots heavily on its art design, set decoration, makeup and costumes whether or not can conjure a believable world of that time, as a result MASQUERADE is impeccable in all these aspects. Despite basically it is an interior chamber piece, a few outdoor shots meticulously dispense us legitimate solemnity and natural quaintness.

The outline of the story is quite straightforward, and all the ramifications are predictable, the transformation from a good-to-nothing to a righteous and gallant role model is the unflagging keynote, director Chang-min Choo interposes effectual gags in-between the brooding atmosphere, first time we saw a king breaks wind on screen and his eye-opening defecation formalities, which is gross at first glance, but the comical reaction is pure golden! (Hollywood should learn how to turn repellent vulgarity into some genuine laughter from it).

Finally Lee scoops up his representative work on big screen which could testify his talent beyond the awful exploitation of his taciturn Asian fighter figure in Hollywood action potboilers. Acting with his mother tongue, the constant changeover of manners and tones is a demanding task, he successfully nail both the imperial majesty and the antic street-smartness. What is more touching is among the set pieces where the expendable side characters face their doom, Lee's reactive performances are wonderfully empathetic, effectively efface the cliché and sappy default of a thin plot. Seung-yong Ryoo (the helping hand), Hyo-ju Han (the queen) and Gwang Jang (the eunuch) all offer a bit subtler presence pertains to their different functions.

There is an elephant in the room since everyone knows the impostor cannot be spared at any rate, so the film cunningly contrives a twist to lift the culmination which we cannot say is a mind-blowing one, at least it is a tenable one. Overall, the film is slightly over-stretching its sentimentality but nevertheless stands for a universal crowd-pleaser and a top-notcher of South Korean film industry.

This movie is the reason why I love cinema so much. A beautiful film that conveys so much emotion from you, I cried so much during this movie. Every actor did an amazing job but the main character showed some serious acting chops with his performance. When the scenes switch between the impostor and the real king, you don't for a single second think "Oh it's the same guy". It's two completely different and separate people despite being played by the same actor, now that takes some serious acting skills to pull off. The cinematography, sets, costumes, script, and everything was perfect. I hoped that the ending would have turned out different but being that it's a historical movie, it can't be helped. I don't usually like historical movies aside from WW2 movies, but this one is now my absolute favorite. Before watching, I knew literally nothing about Korean history but this movie has definitely made me a fan. Would recommend to anyone who likes inspiring, beautiful, funny, and emotional films.. so basically everyone. An easy 10/10.

A critical and commercial success in South Korea, and that's really no surprise. For a period drama, Masquerade contains plenty in its formula that made it so, from a premise that piqued curiosity, an A-list cast, and really solid production values with attention paid to detail, recreating the Joseon period under the reign of the 15th emperor Gwanghae, giving its interpretation to a missing 15 days in the documented Annals of the Joseon Dynasty journals, which writer Hwang Jo-yoon took the liberty to introduce a tale similar to The King and the Pauper, played out with full palace intrigue.

King Gwanghae (Lee Byung-hun), like most kings when being unpopular, fears for his life, and instructs his Chief Secretary Heo Gyun (Ryoo Seung-ryong) to find a doppelganger. After a search, a bawdy comedian Ha-sun (also played by Lee) was found, and brought to the palace to be groomed as a stand-in, with this secret only made known to Heo Gyun, and Chief Eunuch (Jang Gwang) only, given that there are enemies of the state even in the courts, and nobody can be trusted with the secret except for the inner circle. Sure enough King Gwanghae got poisoned, and in his absence, Ha-sun has got to step up into the regal role, opening doors to light comedy, and the raising of eyebrows amongst those intent on committing treason as they slow sense some characteristics in their king that didn't seem quite right.

Director Choo Chang-min had a solid hand at the helm of this production, never scrimping on the opulence of how courts and palaces function, with its legion of servants and court officials, while drawing out excellent performances from the cast at his disposal. There's enough in the film to make anyone sit up and take note of the intricacies of political maneuvering, especially when there are vultures swirling around and ever ready to swoop in to take advantage of any perceived weakness. The story here ranks up there with just about any palace drama anywhere in the world, with loose ends opened during the narrative all neatly tied up, with strong emotions to boot.

Lee Byung-hyun is possibly in his finest role(s) yet playing the two different characters of one having the highest office in the land, while the other a poor nobody plucked from obscurity to assume a role he would have never dreamed of. As King Gwanghae, he plays him ruthless and not very well liked, but as Ha-sun, Lee shows off his acting chops in varying his styles as the need and narrative called for it, being goofy when required, or with all regal pomp when in the open with many eyes and ears. He straddles the roles quite effortlessly, which is a good dramatic break for the actor, who is probably better known for his dumbed down Hollywood exploits that prefer his rock solid abs than to his acting ability, which will convince naysayers that this man can truly act.

The supporting cast also put in top notch performances to play off Lee, especially when the narrative fleshes them out in three dimensions rather than to pass them off as caricatures. Top of the list goes to Heo Gyun as the main executer of the plot, installing Ha-sun as the King while waiting for his real master to awaken from poisoned slumber, and teaching his puppet to wise up, only to be surprised by the man's humanity, which set out to touch the lives of many others, and with it came new found respect. Jang Gwang as the Chief Eunuch was excellent too in being one of two in the scheme of things, and serves as Ha-sun's confidante, and observer during non-official periods.

And others in the story include Captain Do (Kim In-kwon), as the King's royal bodyguard who begins to suspect something's amiss, the young food taster Sa-wol (Shim Eun-kyung) who brings him his meals, and the Queen Consort Joong Jun (Han Hyo-joo) herself, all who slowly benefit from what they thought was a profound change in heart of a man whom they never would have thought to change for the better with new found humanity and grace on display, and each story arc contributing to the breadth of the story, keeping it moving at fast pace, as well as keeping audiences on their feet with each dangerously close shaves of potential exposure of plot and identity.

It's been some time since I had last enjoyed a Korean period film, so this came as a pleasant surprise. It's that kind of production that's big in scale and ambition, and delivered on all counts. Masquerade deserves all the critical and commercial success gone its way and more, and it qualifies itself into my shortlist as one of the best this year has to offer. A definite recommend!

This was an absolutely stunning film. It is amazing to me that a director with relatively minimal experience can produce a masterpiece like this film. The story, the dialogue, acting, the costumes, the set decorations, the locations. Everything was absolutely pitch perfect. If only Hollywood could make films this good. I understand why it won so many awards. An absolutely stunning achievement.

This much is history – in the eighth year of King Gwang-hae's reign during the 17th century Joseon dynasty, there was a sudden reversal of policies that had favoured the aristocracy. Suddenly, the wealthy were made to pay more taxes and the same burden lightened on both the peasants as well as the middle-class. The noble were also ordered not to exploit the poor as slaves, lest they face the wrath of the King. Strangely enough, it is during this period that the Annals contain fifteen missing days, preceded by an intriguing entry that reads 'one must not record that which he wishes to hide'.

Inspired by this fascinating set of events, director and co-screenwriter Choo Chang-min imagine a fantastical scenario along the lines of Mark Twain's seminal novel 'The Prince and the Pauper' and Ivan Reitman's political satire 'Dave' where a look-alike commoner swaps places with the King and thereby institutes badly needed ground-up reforms. The excuse for such a body swap? The threat of assassination, which in the opening minutes is shown leaving King Gwanghae spooked and doubting the trust of even those closest to him – the Queen and her brother Yoo Jong- ho.

Under his orders, his loyal Chief Secretary Heo Gyun (Ryoo Seung-yong) finds a doppelganger in Ha-seon, a jester at a courtesan's place who impersonates the King for popular amusement. Barely after his audition, Ha-seon is thrust onto the throne when the King is poisoned and falls unconscious, leading the Chief Secretary to activate the former so that the country does not descend into chaos. What ensues is an enthralling mix of comedy and drama done with a lot of heart, all three elements combining to render this one of the very best Korean films we have seen in a long while.

Indeed, the experience that Chang-min invites his audience to partake is similar to Ha-seon's own transformation. Not used to the life of royalty, Ha-seon initially struggles with its customary practices – most notably the lack of privacy – and like the awkward adjustments he has to make, the first half of the film goes for a light-hearted tone with generous but genuine laughs. A particular laugh-out-loud sequence has him failing to understand the inordinate amount of attention paid to the daily movement of his bowels, but most of the humour is more subtle but no less amusing – especially a running gag where his regular closed-door meetings with the Chief Secretary are interrupted by the need to perform an abrupt switch of positions when his night snack is delivered.

Even in these early moments, it is clear that Ha-seon has more empathy than the real King ever had. This is portrayed in both the smaller moments – after learning that his leftovers go towards feeding the Royal servants, Ha-seon specially eats only a basic bowl of bean gruel to leave the rest of the dishes to those who prepared it – as well as a more fully fleshed arc that sees him try to restore the rightful presence of the Queen (Han Hyo-joo) in relation to the throne. It is also a perfect precursor for Ha-seon's subsequent transformation, as he grows increasingly unwilling to be just a puppet for the Chief Secretary.

Instead, Ha-seon begins to rule by common sense, putting in place badly needed reforms so swiftly that they stun the rest of his political circle. More importantly, he ends up antagonising the very traitors who had masterminded the King's poisoning, setting the stage for a gripping showdown where not just his identity but his very life is on the line. And yet even in the face of clear and present danger, Ha-seon shows unexpected mettle, choosing instead to stand firm for his beliefs and decisions rather than scuttle away to safety, earning the admiration of the Chief Secretary and the Chief Eunuch (Jang Gwang) who realise that Ha-seon was an even better ruler of the people than the King himself.

Though Chang-min provides a steady directorial hand to the compelling tale, what truly knocks it out of the park is Lee Byung Hun's bravura acting, holding the screen with poise and charisma. As King Gwanghae, he is arrogant, petulant and utterly contemptible; but as Ha-seon, he is lively and charming at the beginning and affectionate and empathetic later on. One of the best – and most touching – scenes in the whole film has Ha-seon agreeing out of resignation to his advisers' proposal for 20,000 men to be essentially sent to their death to help the Ming dynasty and then retracting it with a most forceful proclamation of his duties as a King of the people; that very sequence a perfect illustration of Byung Hun's regal performance.

Outstanding in their own right too are the various supporting acts, including Seung-yong's righteous Chief Secretary who eventually finds himself caught between a rock and a hard place and Jang Gwang's Chief Eunuch who begins to have a change of heart about the masquerade when he sees the goodness in Ha-seon's rule. Rare is the film that is wonderfully acted by every single cast, and one supposes that this is testament to the power of Byung Hun's own leading anchor.

The top-notch quality of the production is also evident in the sumptuous sets and lavish costumes, which add class and pomp to a brilliantly acted, cleverly scripted and confidently directed film. All the jokes and intrigue isn't just for entertainment; indeed, its message of justice, benevolence and fairness is as true to the rule of governance today as it is four hundred years ago. That relevance gives it real heft, and whether you are a fan of period dramas, we urge you to see what we think is one of the finest Korean movies we have seen, brilliant and beautiful in its humour, poignancy and most of all, heart.