My Wedding Campaign, or "Naui gyeolhon wonjeonggi" in Korean, is a tremendously compelling and touching story of a 38-year-old modern-day South Korean bachelor farmer named Hong Man-taek, who like many other young bachelor farmers in Korea's rapidly aging countryside today, has everything -- except a wife.
As a sheepish, bumbling and socially inept stammerer, with an impossibly shy and tongue-tied demeanor, he decides, at the urging of his grandfather to go to "Uzoo-beckist" -- Uzbekistan -- because as his best friend reminds him, "When there aren't enough, you import!"
As can be expected though, things quickly go awry for Mantaek and his buddy in Uzbekistan, especially when farmer Hong finds himself haplessly, yet steadily growing in love with his translator and facilitator, a North Korean defector fluent in Russian and Korean named Kim Lara (played by the beautiful Su Ae). The attraction between these two is essentially unspoken, yet unmistakable, and becomes steadlily more pronounced as each of Mantaek's dates with Korean-Uzbeki girls fall apart, and as Man-taek becomes more and more taken with Lara's assertive yet vulnerable personality, which reminds him of his mother.
A full 27 minutes into the movie, the story begins with Mantaek narrating in the past perfect, as he and his grandfather sit atop a Korean hill overlooking the farming valley that he and his family have worked for generations. The next scene takes Mantaek halfway across the world to the steppes of Uzbekistan, as he inauspiciously intones:"...the beginning was humble, but the end was prosperous." Oh yes, indeed.
Once in Uzbekistan, and after the first of several failed meetings with prospective Korean-Uzbeki brides, Mantaek realizes how far he is from their ideal, and yearns for someone with a similar background. Lara, who is originally from Sinuiju City in North Korea, unwittingly fits the bill. While hardly the image of a modern, cosmopolitan Uzbeki woman, which Mantaek cannot relate to anyhow, Lara is essentially a country girl, and is therefore, the ideal type for Mantak both figuratively and literally. And while Lara finds herself exasperated with Mantaek's country bumpkin mannerisms and dullness, she is drawn to his down-to-earth earnestness and simplicity, which her life is devoid of.
Although unspoken, their pairing is indicative of "Nam-Nam, Buk- Nyeo", ideal, which is an old Korean proverb meaning that the best pairings are "men from the South" (like Mantaek) and "women from the North" like Lara. It is also a metaphor for reunification between the two Koreas.
Their budding love, however, is star-crossed, as several different elements conspire to prevent it from taking off, including Lara's unscrupulous Korean-Uzbeki boss, who holds the keys to her freedom in the form of a forged South Korean passport, the jilted Korean-Uzbeki girl who was initially set up with Mantaek but whom Mantaek rejects, and the Uzbeki police with their crackdown of possible terrorists via random passport checks. (Lara is an illegal alien who has overstayed her work visa. If caught, she faces deportation back to North Korea.)
Although Mantaek is not fully aware of Lara's predicament, he remains devoted to her throughout their time together, and while she parries his initial expression of interest in her, she cannot forget his sacrificial act of throwing himself at two Uzbeki cops when she gets caught during a random passport check, thus allowing her to escape and survive another day.
In the next scene, at the airport in Uzbekistan, we see Mantaek being deported back to South Korea by Uzbeki police and South Korean embassy officials due to his assault on the police officers the night before to save Lara, who successfully eluded the police.
He is, however, surreptitiously able to catch a parting glance of Lara, who hides behind a pillar overlooking the departure terminal as she too, catches a last glimpse of the man that saved her. The only way he can reach out to her though -- without giving her away -- is by saying the only Russian expression she taught him that he remembers, which has become a kind of a code between the two: "до завтра" (Da-Zavtra), or "until tomorrow", which he butchers Korean-style to "Da japaturyu." As he repeats it over and over again behind a stream of tears in front of the bewildered Uzbekis and a sobbing Lara upstairs witnessing it all, I could barely hold back my own.
With Mantaek back in his hometown, listless and fraught with loneliness and ennui while carrying out the exhausting work and mind-numbing routine of a bachelor farmer, the story takes a twist half a world away when Lara, like many North Korean defectors in real life, jumps the gate of a friendly embassy and gets political asylum.
After having been notified in person by a NIS (National Intelligence Service) agent of Lara's arrival in Seoul, the very last scene is of Mantaek running through his orchard.
With this final scene of him freeze-framed, we hear Mantaek's voice-over declare confidently in a steady and stutter-free voice -- resolutely and full of satisfaction -- the end of his "wedding campaign."
This was -- most surprisingly and unexpectedly -- one of the most touching and profound love stories I have ever seen in my life. It literally sent my heart into my throat and had me dissolved into a blubbering mess by the end of the movie. A must see for anyone and everyone who enjoys unlikely love stories and has even a parting belief in the power of love.
As a sheepish, bumbling and socially inept stammerer, with an impossibly shy and tongue-tied demeanor, he decides, at the urging of his grandfather to go to "Uzoo-beckist" -- Uzbekistan -- because as his best friend reminds him, "When there aren't enough, you import!"
As can be expected though, things quickly go awry for Mantaek and his buddy in Uzbekistan, especially when farmer Hong finds himself haplessly, yet steadily growing in love with his translator and facilitator, a North Korean defector fluent in Russian and Korean named Kim Lara (played by the beautiful Su Ae). The attraction between these two is essentially unspoken, yet unmistakable, and becomes steadlily more pronounced as each of Mantaek's dates with Korean-Uzbeki girls fall apart, and as Man-taek becomes more and more taken with Lara's assertive yet vulnerable personality, which reminds him of his mother.
A full 27 minutes into the movie, the story begins with Mantaek narrating in the past perfect, as he and his grandfather sit atop a Korean hill overlooking the farming valley that he and his family have worked for generations. The next scene takes Mantaek halfway across the world to the steppes of Uzbekistan, as he inauspiciously intones:"...the beginning was humble, but the end was prosperous." Oh yes, indeed.
Once in Uzbekistan, and after the first of several failed meetings with prospective Korean-Uzbeki brides, Mantaek realizes how far he is from their ideal, and yearns for someone with a similar background. Lara, who is originally from Sinuiju City in North Korea, unwittingly fits the bill. While hardly the image of a modern, cosmopolitan Uzbeki woman, which Mantaek cannot relate to anyhow, Lara is essentially a country girl, and is therefore, the ideal type for Mantak both figuratively and literally. And while Lara finds herself exasperated with Mantaek's country bumpkin mannerisms and dullness, she is drawn to his down-to-earth earnestness and simplicity, which her life is devoid of.
Although unspoken, their pairing is indicative of "Nam-Nam, Buk- Nyeo", ideal, which is an old Korean proverb meaning that the best pairings are "men from the South" (like Mantaek) and "women from the North" like Lara. It is also a metaphor for reunification between the two Koreas.
Their budding love, however, is star-crossed, as several different elements conspire to prevent it from taking off, including Lara's unscrupulous Korean-Uzbeki boss, who holds the keys to her freedom in the form of a forged South Korean passport, the jilted Korean-Uzbeki girl who was initially set up with Mantaek but whom Mantaek rejects, and the Uzbeki police with their crackdown of possible terrorists via random passport checks. (Lara is an illegal alien who has overstayed her work visa. If caught, she faces deportation back to North Korea.)
Although Mantaek is not fully aware of Lara's predicament, he remains devoted to her throughout their time together, and while she parries his initial expression of interest in her, she cannot forget his sacrificial act of throwing himself at two Uzbeki cops when she gets caught during a random passport check, thus allowing her to escape and survive another day.
In the next scene, at the airport in Uzbekistan, we see Mantaek being deported back to South Korea by Uzbeki police and South Korean embassy officials due to his assault on the police officers the night before to save Lara, who successfully eluded the police.
He is, however, surreptitiously able to catch a parting glance of Lara, who hides behind a pillar overlooking the departure terminal as she too, catches a last glimpse of the man that saved her. The only way he can reach out to her though -- without giving her away -- is by saying the only Russian expression she taught him that he remembers, which has become a kind of a code between the two: "до завтра" (Da-Zavtra), or "until tomorrow", which he butchers Korean-style to "Da japaturyu." As he repeats it over and over again behind a stream of tears in front of the bewildered Uzbekis and a sobbing Lara upstairs witnessing it all, I could barely hold back my own.
With Mantaek back in his hometown, listless and fraught with loneliness and ennui while carrying out the exhausting work and mind-numbing routine of a bachelor farmer, the story takes a twist half a world away when Lara, like many North Korean defectors in real life, jumps the gate of a friendly embassy and gets political asylum.
After having been notified in person by a NIS (National Intelligence Service) agent of Lara's arrival in Seoul, the very last scene is of Mantaek running through his orchard.
With this final scene of him freeze-framed, we hear Mantaek's voice-over declare confidently in a steady and stutter-free voice -- resolutely and full of satisfaction -- the end of his "wedding campaign."
This was -- most surprisingly and unexpectedly -- one of the most touching and profound love stories I have ever seen in my life. It literally sent my heart into my throat and had me dissolved into a blubbering mess by the end of the movie. A must see for anyone and everyone who enjoys unlikely love stories and has even a parting belief in the power of love.