#pachinko
so i really liked season 1 of pachinko overall but i also kind of wished they’d figured out a better way to tell the story in just 1 season with more than 8 episodes
one of the things i struggled with in the book was feeling disconnected from the characters as a whole since it jumped across multiple generations of this one family and once you got to know one family member it seemed to move on to the next family member’s story with little fanfare
conversely, when watching the show, i was immediately drawn to sunja and sympathetic to solomon’s struggles, and i love the way the show jumped back and forth in time so we could see both kim min ha and youn yuh jung’s portrayal of sunja as well as the way her struggles and choices tied directly to her grandson solomon’s life
but starting around episode 6 i feel like sunja got sidelined a bit as the story focused more on solomon and no disrespect but i just don’t think his story is the most interesting in this show and even the emotional beats with hana in the finale kind of fell flat for me because the only other time we saw her was when she was being a bad influence when they were teens and so i never really bought into or cared about their relationship
and i think part of the problem is that it feels like old sunja’s story concluded with her emotional journey back to korea and so once that plotline wrapped up, it felt like she didn’t really have much to do, and in episode 8 especially, it seemed like all youn yun jung was doing was looking sad in the background, which is just such a waste of her talent, though i will say i don’t think i’ve ever seen a granny peel an apple with such gravitas and emotion
and i get that there’s still noa’s story to uncover, which will undoubtedly be fleshed out in season 2 but i feel like this show could’ve told a more cohesive story about belonging and family if it focused solely on sunja because the parts of episode 8 where we see sunja come into her own and the last scene where she triumphantly sells her kimchi were so good and so compelling and i was once again left wanting more of her, more of her story, more of how she turned from a young, naive mother to a weary but loving matriarch and so i was really bummed that we never got to see her learn how to be a mother for the first time or see how her relationship with isak developed and honestly i wish we’d gotten to see that on screen instead of all the agonizing scenes of hana slowly dying
i mean, i get wanting to be true to the source material, but i feel like this is an instance where they could’ve improved on the novel by tightening up the story and honing in on sunja, especially considering the talented actresses they got to play her
all that said, i LOVED the first half of the season and liked the second half well enough and pulling in the real-life stories of women like sunja to end the first season was so poignant and such a lovely, respectful note to end on
spending the penultimate episode of the (first?) season on hansu’s backstory is certainly……a choice
on the one hand, it’s an incredibly compelling dive into his motivations and a harrowing glimpse into the lives of koreans in japan thanks to an excellent performance from lee min ho
on the other hand, it seems out of place this late in the season, i wish we’d spent this hour with sunja instead, and honestly i just don’t care about hansu at all
in sum:
i get that pachinko is about intergenerational trauma and family legacy and all that and so i understand the importance of solomon’s storyline and find his struggle with his identity to be genuinely compelling
BUT
i just can’t bring myself to care about him at all because kim min ha and youn yuh jung are both SO captivating that i just want more of sunja, more of her life and her joys and her sorrows
okay but the way the very first episode opens on yangjin visiting the shaman, desperate for her unborn daughter to live, the way she is so strict and pragmatic in the way she raises sunja because she wants to prepare her daughter for the harsh reality they live in instead of giving her hope for a better world that may never exist, the way her words are severe but her actions are always filled with sacrifice and love, from giving sunja food from her own bowl even when she’s disappointed in her daughter’s choices to pleading with the merchant for white rice (the rice!!) so she might be able to give her daughter a taste of her homeland before she leaves, possibly never to return, the way she gives sunja her rings so she will have some money of her own in her new life, and the way she stands on the dock and watches the boat sail away, waiting until it’s out of sight before letting herself succumb to the grief of losing the daughter who she treasured so much in her own way
the way sunja loves her unborn child because of the love her father and mother have for her, the way she refuses to give her child up to another family and vows to give of herself so her child will want for nothing, the way she agrees to marry a stranger and travel to a new land for the promise of a new start and a better life for her child, the way she still remembers the taste of white rice from her homeland even decades after her mother first prepared it for her wedding feast, the way she wonders if it is the destiny of mothers to sacrifice for their children over and over until they are dead, and the way she embodies that destiny herself by waiting until her children are grown and she is nearing the end of her life before finally pursuing her desire to return to her home country
the way geumja is told over and over again to prioritize the well-being of her children and grandchildren over the land beneath her feet, the way she is finally able to pursue the education she was denied as a child now that her children are grown and have lives of their own, the way her children will never truly understand why that land is so important to her, the way she has spent her life bending to those smug faces speaking a language that is not her own, and the way she refuses, in the end, to bend one last time, to make this final sacrifice, choosing instead to keep this one thing for herself - her language and her land and her dignity
the way motherhood is so often defined by sacrifice to those who can’t understand the true cost of that sacrifice, the way motherhood is both a blessing and a curse, handed down from one generation to the next
Soon, my daughter will follow her husband to Japan. I don’t have much to offer them for a dowry. But a taste of her own country before she leaves home, I would like to give her that.
Pachinko, Chapter Four (Apple TV+, 2022)
“I want only enough for the bride and groom’s dinner—for them to taste white rice again before they leave home.” Yangjin’s eyes welled up in tears, and the rice seller looked away. Cho hated seeing women cry. His grandmother, mother, wife, and daughters—all of them cried endlessly. Women cried too much, he thought.
His older daughter lived on the other side of town with a man who worked as a printer, and his younger one and her three children lived at home with him and his wife. As much as the rice seller complained about the expense of upkeep of his daughter and grandchildren, he worked hard and did the bidding of any Japanese customer who’d pay the top price because he could not imagine not providing for his family; he could not imagine having his girls live far away—in a nation where Koreans were treated no better than barn animals. He couldn’t imagine losing his flesh and blood to the sons of bitches.
Yangjin counted out the yen notes and placed them on the wooden tray on the counter beside the abacus.
“A small bag if you have it. I want them to eat their fill. Whatever’s left over, I’ll make them some sweet cake.”
Yangjin pushed the tray of money toward him. If he still said no, then she would march into every rice shop in Busan so her daughter could have white rice for her wedding dinner.
“Cakes?” Cho crossed his arms and laughed out loud; how long had it been since he heard women talking of cakes made of white rice? Such days felt so distant. “I suppose you’ll bring me a piece.”
She wiped her eyes as the rice seller went to the storeroom to find the bit he’d squirreled away for occasions such as these.
Pachinko, Book 1, Chapter 10
You said so yourself, her children would benefit from that money.
So, is that our lot then? To constantly sacrifice for our children? When does it stop? At our death?
Pachinko, Chapter Three (Apple TV+, 2022)
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In One of TV’s Best Episodes of the Year, ‘Pachinko’ Uncovers a Harrowing History
FROM THE INTERVIEW: ESQ: This episode does a lot to complicate the character of Hansu. It’s shocking to learn that the charismatic, mysterious man from the six previous episodes was once a meek, dutiful tutor who had never been intimate with a woman. What do you think this episode reveals about him?
Lee Min Ho: Early in Episode Seven, we see the more demure side of Hansu. I wanted to show how this man who had a very good heart transitions from the ultimate good to evil—how these events force him to become evil. As I portray Hansu in the present, I wanted people to catch a glimpse of his past self.
FROM THE INTERVIEW: Regarding his latest project “Pachinko,” Lee Min Ho was asked whether he was confident in his ability to express the character Koh Hansu.
Lee Min Ho shared, “Yes, there were a lot of aspects I could relate to when I was reading the script. Occasionally, there are characters that I somehow know why they would say or do such things in certain situations. As you continue to read scripts. It’s the same as uploading a YouTube video and not paying much attention to whether it gets 1,000 or 10,000 views. I just have to execute and record the expressive desire that I strongly feel.”
Visto primer capítulo y promete, producida y dirigida por Kogonada…vaya, que el comienzo no ha podido ser mejor (ahora me alegro de no haber leído la novela)
Pachinko, S01E01, 2022
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e3 | Pachinko
Min Jin Lee’s bestselling and award-winning novel Pachinko begins with a simple sentence: “History has failed us, but no matter.”
Pachinko: An Ambitious and Epic Family Portrait of Resilience
Pachinko—the Apple TV+ drama and the novel by Min Jin Lee—honors survival and sheds light on a family history built on enduring. Short but poignant lines like “That’s called survival;” “but you’ll learn to endure it;” and “It’s not a shame to survive” linger far beyond their scenes.
Pachinko: An Ambitious and Epic Family Portrait of Resilience
