Cheonhajangsa madonna (Korean) [Like A Virgin]
What stays with me most is the feeling the film leaves behind: despite its setbacks and uneven moments, it ends with a genuine smile. This South Korean comedy earns that warmth through Dong-ku, a teenager who knows he wants to live as a woman, even while nearly every part of his life makes that difficult.
At home, his father drinks heavily and beats him when he catches him dressed as a girl; Dong-ku sees his mother only now and then. At school, he faces bullying. Before classes, he hauls rice at the docks to save money. His crush on his teacher also comes to an end when she gets married. The film puts these hardships alongside moments of unexpected kindness, particularly from Dong-ku’s teammates, whose support helps him begin to trust himself.
The route to that team begins with an unlikely opportunity. With the help of his oddball best friend, Dong-ku realizes he could earn real money by winning the national scholastic sumo championship, and enters despite being an obvious outsider. The other wrestlers wonder why he is there, but his coach believes in him. Training gradually builds Dong-ku’s physical strength, though his doubts about whether he can become a wrestler never disappear easily. He keeps going, and eventually wins the championship.
That predictable arc is not the same as a story about the mechanics of transitioning. Some viewers have noted that the film skips over the transition process, but its interest lies elsewhere: in someone pursuing the freedom to live as they truly are, and in an outsider finding a path toward the life he wants. As an older film, it approaches gender dysphoria with a notable degree of warmth and care, without making transition itself its focus.
The comedy is often broad and visual, and it works more often than not. Dong-ku’s fantasy about his Japanese teacher, staged with drifting cherry blossoms and seductive talk, is especially funny. The training montages are another highlight, while the other wrestlers leave a memorable impression. One develops feelings for Dong-ku; it is a nice touch, though I wish the film had taken that thread further.
Much of the film’s force comes from its lead performance. Dong-ku’s self-assurance feels remarkable given what he faces: he is clear about who he is and what he wants, and the performance makes that certainty convincing and fearless. His dancing adds to the impression; it is not normal for a guy to dance as well as he does here. The final confrontation between Dong-ku and his father, however, could have landed harder.
The film carries its share of highs and lows, but its humor, the warmth around Dong-ku, and that commanding central performance outweigh its weaknesses. It may be easy to predict where the story is headed, yet it still leaves a real smile behind. (5/10)