Korean Dramas 101: What to Expect

Note: All video clips below are linked from Youtube. No infringement of any kind is intended.

So, what should you expect if you decide to try watching a Korean drama?

Within my last blog on the subject, I presented a breakdown of the four main genres of Korean dramas. Here are some of the positives and negatives about Korean dramas in general:

PLOTS

The Good: Korean dramas are usually very strong with developing characters, navigating the complexities of family bonds, and working through realistic behaviors in any given situation (ie. Korean drama characters typically do what a person with their particular personality type would do). Some of the camera conventions, such as lingering on a character's body language or face for long periods of time, can in fact strongly enhance viewers' understanding of motivation, emotion, and consequences. The plots also take time to develop, which makes for a more interesting viewing.

The Bad: Korean dramas are not usually very strong on original or thought-provoking plots. You will not typically see plots dealing with profound or complicated social issues, for example. You will see complicated love triangles, scheming relatives, and odd subplots. This tendency is mainly due to the remnants of Confucianism in Korean culture, which values hierarchy and knowing your place in the world.

The Ugly: Korean dramas are not usually written to their conclusion ahead of time, with all the disorganization that this may imply. In order to find out if a drama is good, one typically has to view at least the first four episodes, as sometimes even the writer doesn't quite know what the story is going to be about yet. This also means that Korean dramas contain a lot of "filler" episodes, random (and sometimes misplaced) slapstick comedy moments, and, if the drama is particularly poorly written, lots and lots of flashbacks accompanied by bad K-pop songs.

ACTORS

The Good: Korea has produced some fantastic actors lately. Most Korean entertainers do not limit themselves to one style of entertainment - many actors, in fact, easily transition between singing, modeling, and acting; this tendency allows for extreme flexibility in what the entertainer is capable of doing. A good example of this kind of actor is an entertainer known as "Rain," who has appeared in Korean dramas (romantic comedy and melodrama), Korean movies, and American movies (Ninja Assassin). The Korean-style of acting feels very Method-based (think Brando and Depp) rather than polished. This actually works in Korean dramas very well, most of the time, allowing viewers to engage more fully into the emotional story taking place. Tears are real, laughter is deep, and chemistry is genuine.

The Bad: The fact that Korean actors are also entertainers can also work against them. Some singers really should stay on the stage rather than try to act. Enough said.

The Ugly: Two words - military service. The solid acting careers of leading men is often derailed by the mandatory two year military service all Korean males must face. Some actors recover, such as Seo Ji-Seop, but others are never heard from again. Female actors are held to very high moral standards, and any misstep in an actress's personal life can be personally and professionally devastating.

CONVENTIONS

The Korean sense of humor, at least in Korean dramas, tends towards slapstick and toilet humor. Fortunately, most of the actors in these dramas seem to be gifted with perfect comic timing, which can make for a very entertaining evening. What may be more difficult for American audiences to stomach is the national obsession with toilet humor. Whereas in American films, restrooms are sacred, Korean entertainment makes use of bathrooms as a natural, and mostly humorous, place to have a conversation. Men have conversations (and the occasional - ahem - staring contest) while standing at urinals, women have conversations in toilet stalls or family bathrooms, and poop is always funny.

Here is a classic and hilarious example:

Bathroom Scene, EP. 9 (from My Lovely Samsoon)

On the flip side, tragedy and pathos in Korean dramas always ensures plenty of tears and hysteria in certain scenes. American audiences may be overwhelmed by this convention at first; we are not used to seeing people truly "lose it" or bawl their heads off, except perhaps in some wacky independent feature films. Having lived in Korea, I can say with some confidence that generally speaking, when someone loses it, THEY LOSE IT, earning Koreans the rather apt title of "the Italians of the East":

AP Footage of Korean Parliament Brawl 2009

Finally, viewers may be surprised at the lack of sexual content in television. Aside from being a sad commentary on our own society, this is mainly due to the conservative nature of Korean audiences. Adultery, lust, and one night stands may be alluded to, but most Korean dramas prefer not to "pollute the air" with unnecessary displays of passion. Sex scenes, when they occur, tactfully fade away from the action at hand and focus on windows, doors, or a light in the house going off. Kissing scenes are, by-and-large, chaste, and the anticipation of "the kiss" can actually be quite sweet and well worth the waiting:

"Kiss Me" Montage from Youtube

Enjoy the show!

The ESL Camp (July-Aug. 2007)

Note: This is a rough draft; I will be continuously editing this entry, so don't be surprised if things change!

After only three days back on solid food, I found myself back at work, staring down a group of rowdy fifth grade boys and sixth grade girls at the University's mandatory "ESL Summer Camp." The camp would run for three very solid weeks.

Although I was in poor physical condition and had very little energy due to my mystery illness, I decided that I was not going to let this camp get the better of me. It was my last scheduled teaching activity before I moved back to Seoul, and I genuinely wanted my students to enjoy their learning. The fact that I was already set to move onto a better job in Seoul also made it easier for me to really let loose (damn the conventions) and let the students enjoy their time in my class.

These ESL camps are not quite what we, as Americans, consider to be a "camp-like" experience. In fact, the only thing "camp" (meaning 'fun') about these institutions is that the kids sleep over, usually in the university dorms, eat questionable cafeteria food, and engage in team-sport activities. They do get some fun time on Fridays, which are designated field trip days, but the rest of the time is spent in classes and "educational activities." Even the more "fun" activities, such as song, drama, and game show contests, are considered serious competitive activities. The pressure is always on these students to perform, perform, perform, like well-trained monkeys at competing for a single banana.

And then there is the teacher vs. camp counselor dynamic. Imagine, if you will, a group of dignified (at least, when sober) college professors, ranging from their late twenties into their early forties - tweedy suit jackets, matronly dresses, somber expressions, etc. Now, imagine the same group of professors wearing flip-flops, shorts, and t-shirts. Enter the camp counselors. The average camp counselor is about 18 years old, and he or she has been likely culled from the above-mentioned professors' ESL classes. If the student happened to have failed the basic ESL Freshman class...no worries! The camp counselor may even find himself or herself assigned to the very professor who failed him or her the previous semester. In the world of the ESL camp, the counselors are given unprecedented power over the children; the professor-cum-English instructor has no jurisdiction whatsoever over what the students do outside of the classroom. A certain power struggle is bound to ensue. And it does.

All of that notwithstanding, there are some positives, as there is in any situation, with the right attitude. Textbooks for the classes are pretty much chosen at whim without regard to level, but this is actually a GOOD thing. When you give a beginning English class a high-intermediate textbook, naturally the class has no clue what they are reading or talking about. This gives the instructor much leeway in "interpretation" of the so-called lesson being taught. Typically, this means the instructor has to "fill in" the blanks with his or her own activities. I chose to have students use the practically useless dialogues as acting skits. With difficult reading passages, I acted out the dialogue and fired simplified questions about what the kids had just seen. I did my best to make the activities as pain-free as possible, and as a class, we did have a good time most days.

One day during the second week of the camp, a junior high group was giving me particular grief. Instead of getting angry, I decided to stage my own revolt against convention. I brought out two "Twister" boards and a spinner and let the students have at it. We were able to cover "left," "right," body parts, and colors in less that 15 minutes. The kids loved it, and it became a "reward for good behavior" boon when the class acted appropriately on any given day. The camp counselor said nothing; I heard later that "my actions had been reported" to the camp director, however! I also taught a different group (8th grade) the "Head and Shoulders Knees and Toes" song, complete with gestures. That backfired on me, I'm afraid; their camp counselor decided it was a good punishment song when the class got too rowdy.

One of the biggest challenges of these summer camps, however, is that the teacher spends mealtimes in the cafeteria with the students. This proved to be a big problem for me, as I had just started eating solid food again. When going through the cafeteria line, I would only take a scoop of rice and some soup; I was taught never to waste food as a child, but this is apparently not taught in rural Korea. The camp director and his assistant noticed my meager eating habits because the kids began to comment on my skimpy meals. One student even bluntly commented,"how can teacher be so fat" since I was not eating very much. Finally, the camp assistant (co-chair of the ESL department) asked me point blank why I was not eating with the children. I patiently explained to her that I had been very ill and had no appetite, so I wasn't taking more food than I could eat. She seemed to take this as some sort of insult to Korean food. She furthermore accused me of "setting a bad example" for the children by not eating what they ate. The point was left hanging, but every time I stood in line, I could feel her eagle-eyes assessing my food portions.

Her silent criticism annoyed me at first, but I came to understand her point-of-view after a few days of observation. I came to realize that the real reason she was angry at me was because I had refused, in no uncertain terms, to accept a renewal of my teaching contract; I had had enough of the nefarious activities associated with the University, and to tell the truth, was ready to fly on back to civilized Seoul like a bat out of hell by the time she had taken over the position. She had been hired shortly after a financial scandal had rocked our small department, so she had inherited a real mess from the previous position-holder. She was also a female administrator at a male-dominated university, which is no easy position to be in rural Korea by any stretch of the imagination. Upon further reflection, I discovered that I actually secretly admired her. I still do.

So I compromised. I began to take small helpings of everything on offer, even the fish, which caused me to become nauseous every time I saw it (the fish in Korea is served whole, complete with eyeballs) or smelled its rancid odor. I became quite proficient at pushing food around on my tray to make it look like I had eaten more than I had; rice, soup, and occasionally some bits of meat were the only things I ever actually ate. I suddenly began to understand how a person with a closet eating disorder might feel, although I was also perfectly aware that I would have vomited if I had tried to eat anything else. My appetite never did fully recover after my illness, although the significance of this escaped me for several months thereafter.

My only intentional rebellion against the university surfaced during the Human Jeopardy tournament. Human Jeopardy is actually quite a fun activity when it is not taken too seriously. A hybrid between Jeopardy and Tic-Tac-Toe, Human Jeopardy consists of five columns of clues, one column per category. As in regular Jeopardy, the clues are ranged from top to bottom by difficulty, the bottom row being the most difficult. Here is the human twist: If a teammate gets a clue correct, they go and sit on the spot occupied by the clue. The other teams then try to strategically block each others progress towards an entire row (up-and-down, diagonal, or vertical). Just like in Tic-Tac-Toe, the first team to get a full row wins the game.

Each instructor was instructed to create their own category, give a lesson with notes about the selected category, and create the clues for their own category. The teachers would then rotate around the camp, teaching their topic to one class each evening. The students would then study the worksheets and the information given until the test day. On the night of the competition, each teacher would MC their own category. The unwritten rule was that the category had to be something purely educational and, one might say, esoteric - for example, US Presidents, Canada, Mountains of the World...you get the idea. I decided to shake it up a bit.

Keeping in mind the average age of my students, I created the category "Gross Guts." In order to give the students a little taste of American summer camp fun, I decided to do my unit on the digestive system. I gave a general description of the mechanics of the digestive system as an opener (with diagrams), then launched into a discussion of the main causes of burping and farting. To exhibit the mechanics of burping, I talked about the histories and mysteries of pizza burps. I then gave a fart demo with a generally biologically accurate blown up balloon. The real kick, however, was the competition. I pitted boys against girls, and taught the class what every grade school child in America knows - the armpit fart and the skin-suck-and-blow fart. I also taught interested students how to swallow air for the most effective burps. Oh, did I mention that this "class" was scheduled right before the children were supposed to go to bed? The camp counselors were not particularly amused, but they were, I noticed, very attentive to the lesson!

My homeroom students acquitted themselves very well in the various camp constitutions, although they did not win any prizes. The highlight of the competitions was when I gave Jack, the class troublemaker, the lead in "Doorbumble's Magic Goose," our entry in the drama competition. I figured if he was busy memorizing lines, he would stay out of trouble. I kept my class clowns busy with court jester activities. As it so happened, Jack took to his part like magic, and he did manage to avoid trouble for at least a week - so did the class clowns. At the end of camp, when we were saying our goodbyes, Jack shyly passed me a note thanking me for the best camp ever (which I still have), then burst into uncontrollable tears. He could not be consoled at all, but instead clung to me with a sort of stoic desperation that I had never, and still have never, seen in any child before.

I really felt sorry for Jack. Had I just made things worse for him? This was a clearly intelligent and charismatic kid who did not get along well with his submissive Korean classmates. Through no fault of his own, he simply did not fit in. Because he had always been in trouble, no one had apparently bothered to see what this child could actually do. Of all my students, Jack's English improved the most dramatically, especially after the drama. Having given him the opportunity to shine, I now wondered if he would ever get an opportunity to show his talents again. Maybe he would have been better off not knowing he had ability. The harsh reality is that Jack was the son of economically challenged parents from a rural school district with limited resources. If he had been born in Seoul, he might have had a chance, but out in the agricultural community, his chances were pretty slim.

With these disquieting thoughts in the back of my mind, I returned to my apartment, exhausted. I slept through the entire weekend following the camp. Monday would begin a new adventure.

TEACHING JOURNAL: How to Kill Julius Caesar

Well, as expected, Julius Caesar went over like a fart in church, as far as my students were concerned, but they did learn something.

EDUCATIONAL RANT FOLLOWS:

I really have to question why the state of California deems one of Shakespeare's most boring plays to be of educational value. There is very little action in the play; the most interesting action is the stabbing of Caesar 33 times, as well as a multitude of apparently weakly motivated suicides at the end - "Here, good servant, hold my sword while I run into it and die!" In fact, not once, but twice does Shakespeare use this method to dispatch the conspirators. And other suicides follow. There is an interesting monologue or two in the play, but any of the monologues could be studied out of context (i.e. in an English anthology) without subjecting the average high school student to the monotony of a highly political and "chatty" play.

I find plays such as Othello and Taming of the Shrew far more relevant to today's youth than a political play about a dead Roman tyrant. Othello touches on the highly politically correct politics of race, introduces a fascinatingly psychopathic villain, and sends the audience on a deliciously ironic wild goose chase centering on a missing handkerchief. The plot twists and twists, like a good episode of Criminal Minds (though perhaps the comparison should be made vice versa), and the ending does not read as ridiculous or overwrought like the ending of Julius Caesar. Othello offers competing themes of jealously, hubris, rage, and power all vying for our attention. Taming of the Shrew, which, incidentally, has been made and remade into several popular teen comedies, deals with the universal humor of male vs. female politics. The double entendres ("What? With my tongue in your tail?) are still relevant; the struggle between man and woman is universal, and the lead characters are engaging, if not exactly "good role models." But no, Julius Caesar it is. Sigh.

P.S. I HATED Julius Caesar in high school, and the whole experience turned me off (and, I suspect, several of my classmates) to Shakespeare until well into my college years (for whatever reason, we never studied Romeo and Juliet).

EXEUNT EDUCATION RANT.

As I really struggled with the idea of subjecting my students to this play, I had to think quickly on my feet and cobble together a lesson plan. As our theme for the whole class is "The Human Condition," I decided to focus on humanity's attitude towards power and control, at least, as it is manifested in the play. We spent one day discussing the "Friends, Romans, and countrymen" speech given by Anthony upon the funeral of Caesar as an example of rhetorical parallelism (i.e. repeating certain phrases and patterns of speech to keep an audiences attention - a kind of "power" good orators have). We spent another day discussing why we should care about the state of politics, and what kind of power "we the people" have. We spent the final day discussing the Cassius-Brutus argument about corruption in politics.

I then assigned an essay with the simple (haha!) question: Does power corrupt, as popular wisdom would have us believe? Defend your answer with examples from our last two readings (Julius Caesar, Lord of the Flies).

To my surprise, the students came through with their essays, at least on one level. My students produced fairly lucid arguments for and against corrupting power. The problem was that the quotes they chose from the play were random, and I do mean random, and not necessarily relevant to the discussion at hand; one student did not even quote the play or novel at all, but gave an an otherwise articulate argument about the nature of power.

Note to self: We need to "review" - or, as I suspect, learn for the first time - how to write a literary analysis essay.

EDUCATIONAL RANT FOLLOWS:

What are they teaching these students? I am beginning to suspect that nothing is being taught about how to use various rhetorical styles (ex. a personal narrative vs. a literary analysis essay) or use more sophisticated writing tools. I went to a private academic high school that taught all of these techniques, but from what I have seen, nothing seems to be happening here. Because I tutor these students, I often see the notes and assignment sheets given to them by their teachers. All of them are good, solid, and academic assignments, but then I find out that the teacher has done NOTHING in class to prepare their students to tackle these assignments. For example, almost all assignments require MLA format, but no teacher ever tells the student what MLA means, or where to find the format and/or citation machines online; this scenario has happened on many occasions, by the way.

I used to find myself constantly having to teach MLA to my college students from the ground up; now, at least, I know why.

EXEUNT ALL.