The year is 1981, and a veteran actress named Hee-Ran is flipping through the script for a new film in Korean cinema. The film is titled "Aema," and as soon as Hee-Ran flips through it in her business-class seat, she orders a bottle of whiskey, puts on her dark sunglasses, and tries to sleep. Meanwhile, Shun Ju-Ae dreams of becoming Korea's next Hee-Ran. She just wants fame and freedom, but will she achieve it in an industry known for its poor relationships with women? Is she really getting her big break, or will she want a break after achieving her big dream? This is the basic premise of Netflix's latest and greatest film, but is it the feminist masterpiece we've been waiting for, or does it promote the very exploitation it seeks to expose? Let's delve into it.
Set in the 1980s, the series manages to capture the era perfectly, despite the shock caused by the sex and debauchery we witness. The series exposes the double standards of the industry, and possibly also the country, because while an actress is expected to come from a humble and modest background, on screen she can show it all. However, if she's already been a chorus girl, it means her character will be questioned. The story is captivating almost from the first act, when a famous actress crashes a party and beats up her ex-fiancé, a producer. It's already clear that it's quite an exciting series.
Stars: Lee Hanee, Hyo-rin Bang, Jin Seon-kyu
Over the years I've been covering K-dramas, I've learned that Netflix's K-drama world specifically releases some of its most unique works all at once during peak season. Series like Chicken Nugget, Dear Hongrang, and, of course, popular ones like Sweet Home, are released in binge-watches instead of the usual two-episode-a-week formula. What makes these series different? I guess it's a bit about excitement. From memory, I remember Trigger, which caused a sensation as a thriller that premiered suddenly on a Friday. These series can be hit or miss, but I've noticed that those with a more original message and exciting premises end up triumphing. Aema is definitely one of them.
The series nails the quirky and exciting aspects with great action sequences, like horseback riding and a grandfather clock falling on a police car. Half the male characters are repulsive and the rest are stupid, so it's almost metaphorical that the film they're making about the series, "Madame Aema," aims to accommodate female pleasure and autonomy. Netflix immediately warns you about nudity and sex, among other things, at the beginning of the series, but I found it interesting that we never see the full female figure, just as the film within the series, "Madame Aema," is censored. There are titillating moments, but they primarily expose the male actor and focus on the woman's feelings.
So no, I don't think Aema is exploitative, even though it shows us the uncomfortable truths of a male-dominated industry that puts women in difficult situations, despite their dependence on them. It's primarily about a power play between Hee-Ran, an actress who has been in the industry for 30 years, and the industry itself. The six-episode series balances several different storylines, though I think a longer runtime might have been slightly beneficial in this case. It explores female friendships, mentorship, and the importance of having a support system when entering such a risky field.
I can't say enough about the performances, and I must admit that while I recognized many cameos or supporting actors, I hadn't seen either of the leads in a drama before. It's a shame, because both are absolutely fascinating, each in their own way. Lee Ha-Nee is impeccable as an experienced actress, with the audience at her feet. She shines brightest when she's being downright cruel. The actress embodies Hee-Ran, and since this is my first time watching her, I can't tell them apart, which is a compliment because she was truly great in this role. On the other hand, there's Bang Hyo-Rin. I think this is her debut series, and she's perfect as the young and innocent Ju-Ae. She needs to have star qualities, but she also needs to appear fearful and meek early in the series, while still remaining ambitious and determined. The contradictions are abundant, and I think she pulled it off. The rest of the cast is also excellent, but I have to commend Park Hae-Joon for consistently mastering the role of the dirtiest jerk in town.
I can't stop talking about the performances, and I must admit that, while I recognized many cameos or supporting actors, I hadn't seen either of the leads in any film. It's a shame, because both are absolutely fascinating, each in their own way. Lee Ha-Nee is impeccable as the seasoned actress with the audience at her feet. She shines brightest when she's downright cruel. The actress embodies Hee-Ran, and since this is my first time watching her, I can't tell them apart, which is a compliment, because she was truly good at portraying this character.
On the other hand, there's Bang Hyo-Rin. I think this is her debut series, and she's perfect as the young and innocent Ju-Ae. She must have star qualities, but she must also appear fearful and meek at the beginning of the series, without losing her ambition and determination. The contradictions abound, and I think she pulled it off. The rest of the cast is also excellent, but I must single out Park Hae-Joon for his impeccable portrayal of the dirtiest idiot in town.
But is it a feminist masterpiece or an exploitation thriller? So, to answer my question, I think Aema has qualities that make it an excellent series, truly entertaining in every way, while also having great emotional resonance. It moves between reality and fantasy and gives us a lot to think about. It certainly has interesting commentary, but one can finish it simply excited about the series itself. The series is inspired by real films and historical moments, but it remains completely fictional and original.
The film "Madame Aema" is real, but its content is very different from the original film. All the Korean series set in this historical period that I've seen so far have always been dark and gritty, rather than quirky and edgy. Aema stands out from the crowd in the best way and leaves a memorable mark. But this isn't meant to dismiss the political climate of the time; we simply see it from a new perspective, one that focuses on censorship and hypocrisy.
I can't say for sure that it's a masterpiece, but I do think it's close, and a few small tweaks would make all the difference. I must also admit that Jin Sun-Kyu is diabolical, and Jung-Ho certainly plays a pivotal role in bringing the story to life. I'd give Aema 4 out of 5 stars because while it's not perfect and just a little lacking, it's still very entertaining, and sometimes that's all we need.
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