Late in Season 2 of “Pachinko” waits a frame that’s as flawless as it is simple, in that it holds two people.
Pachinko (Apple TV+) “Pachinko” is unrivaled on the small screen for its visual richness, the yield of what would otherwise be a modest setting.
Gently and assuredly we understand the way choices seeded in the past wind their tendrils through the life of generations not yet born.
Pachinko (Apple TV+)Quiet shows aren’t often afforded their due, something of which you may be constantly reminded while absorbing the care and detail that goes into each of “Pachinko’s” eight episodes.
Neither entirely know what to make of Koh’s man Mr. Kim (Sungkyu Kim), who remains with them under Koh’s orders.
Quiet shows aren’t often afforded their due, something of which you may be constantly reminded while absorbing “Pachinko.”
Pachinko (Apple TV+) Koh’s arc and that of Mr. Kim are the most absorbing among the secondary figures, although not everyone is developed as richly.
“Pachinko” streams weekly starting Friday, Aug. 23 on Apple TV+.
A frame that holds two people is perfect and straightforward, and it appears late in Season 2 of “Pachinko.”. By that point, we had seen their longing for one another ache and strain over a number of scenes that culminated in that ideal shot that showed them facing what they both knew to be true but could not be. The two are only inches apart, but the airy setting, the lighting, and the weight of their unspoken love make that distance seem like miles.
Though they are used as sparing oases between expositional expanses, such bubbles of longing buoy most love stories. Rejecting to be so stingy, Soo Hugh’s adaptation of Min Jin Lee’s magnificent novel follows the example set by her heroine, Sunja Baek. Hugh uses Sunja’s story as the thread that connects the lives and loves around her like priceless beads. Sunja is seen as a 30-something mother in 1945 (Minha Kim) and as a revered elder in 1989 (Yuh-jung Youn).
Apple TV+’s Pachinko game.
Due to its exceptional visual richness, “Pachinko” stands out among other small-screen films despite having a relatively simple backdrop. The narrative, which is presented in parallel timelines, moves fluidly and self-explanatorily between the past and present. We are aware of how decisions made in the past weave their way through the lives of future generations with grace and assurance.
The cast, settings, and costumes all indicate where we are in Sunja Baek’s life, but we can also infer it from the energy that separates Kim’s expressive resolve from Youn’s more outgoing demeanor, which exudes the ease of someone who has seen a lot but hasn’t lost any of her will.
In 1945, the younger Sunja is first seen in Season 2, when she is out on her own with her sons Noa and Mozasu. though not totally. The family’s shadow, Noa’s biological father Koh Hansu (Lee Minho), is committed to silently and jealously influencing Noa’s destiny in the background, regardless of Sunja’s wishes. In order to live safely, if not completely in peace, Koh organizes their escape to a farm in the countryside when the Allies start bombing Japan.
In the 1989 story, which is told simultaneously, Youn’s Sunja and Mozasu (Soji Arai), who is now a prosperous owner of several pachinko parlors, watch as her grandson Solomon (Jin Ha) fights to regain everything he has lost after losing his lucrative executive position. Solomon’s transgression was shielding an old lady from being pressured into selling her land to a shady businessman named Abe (Yoshio Maki), who salts the ground for the man who has wronged him.
Pachinko (Apple TV+): As you take in the attention to detail and care that go into each of “Pachinko’s” eight episodes, you may find yourself reminded again and again that quiet shows don’t always get the credit they deserve. A burnt-out ruin, a piece of fabric, a box—even the most commonplace objects—have beauty thanks to the film’s cinematography, which embraces the entire spectrum of textures and tones. Sunja and her family faced numerous challenges during the early 1900s. Sometimes they can see the burning horizon where the sky would normally be illuminated by a sunrise or sunset.
However, their rural getaway isn’t your typical tinderbox. Sunja and her sister-in-law Kyunghee (Eunchae Jung) experience vocal dissatisfaction from native-born Japanese women who detest them for being Korean in addition to the worry of being separated from their husbands. Mr. Kim (Sungkyu Kim), Koh’s man, stays with them per Koh’s orders, and neither of them is quite sure what to think of him.
This series immerses us in the experience of living through history while highlighting the vastness of common lives and families, such as the Baeks, particularly in the present when we are aware of what is ahead.
You might be continuously reminded while watching “Pachinko” that quiet shows aren’t always given credit. ****.
The fact that Yoseb, Kyunghee’s husband (Junwoo Han), works in a factory in Nagasaki is mentioned, but we already know that this is not the blessing the family thinks it is during such difficult times. When Solomon makes the decision to launch an attack on Abe that he thinks the strong man won’t anticipate, a different kind of cloud descends upon him. His grandmother recognizes the danger in Solomon’s overzealous business approach, particularly the way he dismisses advice that seems like it comes from someone who has survived the Great Recession before.
The half-black, half-white episode that shows the hours and minutes before the bombing of Nagasaki is a blunt-force knockout, but the magic of “Pachinko” lies elsewhere.
That is a tragedy that befalls the Baeks, just like everything else in their lives, and the plot’s strength lies in what they do in the wake of it. This provides the writers with an endless wellspring of insight for all readers, including Lee’s Koh, who could easily take his reserved flintiness in a darker direction. Occasionally, he does. But because of Lee’s straightforward performance, his desire to be a part of something honorable and decent triumphs over the shadiness in his personality.
Apple TV+ offers Pachinko.
Though not all of the secondary characters have as deep of a development, Koh’s and Mr. Dot Kim’s are the most compelling. After her large and powerful presence in “Shōgun,” Anna Sawai plays Solomon’s former coworker Naomi again, though you might be disappointed with how little material she has to work with.
Minha Kim’s performance this season, while still subtle and moving, lacks a clear bridge connecting her rendition of Sunja and Youn’s with the rest of the piece. Throughout the season, Sunja, who is like a grandmother to her, wears an unwavering determination with fierce abandon, particularly when an embarrassing insult she receives leads to an unexpected friendship that is possible to both renew and affirm.
We are reminded scene by scene that even that is not completely safe from the risk of the past bleed into the present. Although encouraging, but also impractical, several characters reiterate some variation of the maxim “always look forward.”. The consequences of previous choices repeatedly appear from behind to shoo an unsuspecting person with the ruthless force of a schoolyard bully, demonstrating the writers’ multiple points of contention.
Throughout this gloomier period, “Pachinko” emphasizes more frequently how all histories—both personal and common—matter, regardless of who is experiencing them or how. This is what Sunja sees in her kids, and they have the ability to carry on her legacy in ways she never could have imagined.
“Your grandfather always told me he wanted me to soar high so I could experience the enormity of this world,” she says to one of her boys. “However, could you make me a promise? You seem to check in with me on a regular basis. I’d also like to know the exact size of it. “Pachinko” takes us back to that place and expands on our understanding of its immensity in ways we might not have imagined.
Every Friday starting on August 1st, “Pachinko” will stream. 23 accessible on Apple TV+.
