KimJi-young, Born 1982 is one of the most important movies of the century because of the following reasons: 1) Author's authentic writing to highlight casual sexism occurring on a daily basis. 2) Woman's unpaid labor and lack of recognition both inside and outside of the house. KimJi-young, an ordinary woman in her 30s, suddenly shows signs of being inhabited by other women from her life, past and present. Reviews; Share Share Link; Facebook; Tweet; Expand. Kim Ji-young, Born 1982 (2019) 12 10/23/2019 (KR) Drama 1h 59m User Score. Play Trailer; Overview. Kim Ji-young, an ordinary woman in her 30s, suddenly shows Reviewedby Timothy Niedermann A novel with footnotes? Yes, Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 has footnotes. And the writing has a dry, workmanlike tone, very little dialogue, and not much in the way of the sort of plot and character development one would expect in a work of fiction, especially one that has become an international bestseller. Only at the end of the book does this all—even the footnotes KimJiyoung, Born 1982 charts the life of Kim Jiyoung, including the circumstances of her birth up until the present where the novel finishes in 2016. The book leads the reader to understand that Kim Jiyoung has gone mad, with her life story forming the basis of the reason why. Naturally split into childhood, adolescence, early adulthood and FilmKorea Kim Ji Young, Born 1982 yang mengadaptasi novel populer karya Jo Nam Joo mendapat begitu banyak review positif dari para penikmat film karena keberhasilannya dalam menampilkan dampak budaya patriarki dari sudut pandang seorang ibu rumah tangga.. Dengan tema cerita yang dekat dengan kehidupan di sekitar dan didukung oleh akting ciamik dari para pemainnya, Kim Ji Young, Born 1982 KimJi-young, Born 1982. TMDb Score. 74. NR 1 hr 59 min Drama. Kim Ji-young, an ordinary woman in her 30s, suddenly shows signs of being inhabited by other women from her life, past and present DojE. Starring critically acclaimed actress Jung Yu-mi as the titular character, Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 is an examination of the many ways misogynistic pressures underlie the everyday experiences of the modern South Korean woman. Adapted from Cho Nam-joo’s book of the same name and directed by female director Kim Do-Yong, Kim Jiyoung markets itself as a tale about and for the Everywoman. Narratively, the film follows much of what occurred in the novel, weaving together the most striking incidents in the novel — told through flashback — in conjunction with the everyday happenings of Jiyoung’s present reality and the representation of her psychosis. The seamless transitions between such scenes streamline the broader theme of the story in a way that differs from the novel, which often appeared disjointed in the seemingly disparate elements that were given overt significance only later on. Throughout its non-linear structure, Kim Jiyoung is constructed as more of a visual portrait of a woman than the society she inhabits. Close-ups on Jiyoung’s reactions center her expressions, mirroring her responses to her daily interactions. The film’s use of its spatial surroundings, in which Jiyoung always appears to be confined to a specific room in the house with her daughter or in a specific domestic occupation, implies the stifling nature of these spaces. These spatial and symbolic meanings add to the visceral portrayal of Jiyoung’s life in the domestic frame. There is a clear departure in tone at the ending of the film, which differs significantly from that of the book. The film’s ending is considerably more optimistic, and Jiyoung’s character is given the space to develop as time goes on. Here Jung Yu-mi’s performance is especially brilliant; she manages to capture not only Jiyoung’s hopeless defeat and quiet desperation within her stances and facial expressions, but also the burgeoning anger that Jiyoung experiences as everyday incidents of sexism accumulate. Whereas the novel seemed to structure itself as more of a clinical account of gender inequality in South Korea in its incorporation of data and statistics, the film humanizes gender inequality in a way that has viewers empathizing with Kim Jiyoung as a character and woman. It is worth noting that Gong Yoo’s role as Jiyoung’s husband Dae-hyun resonates in one of the most memorable performances of the film. Viewers may have seen Gong in his most heroic moments as a self-sacrificing father in Train to Busan, but in Kim Jiyoung Gong plays a man who is inherently good but has unconsciously internalized the misogynistic sentiments of society in his own thinking. He is simultaneously playful and emotional, harsh and kind. These complex determinants of a husband’s identity explain his interactions with Jiyoung and give his character the kind of depth that doesn’t necessarily justify his actions, but takes note of them as a societal issue across the country. This in-depth character portrait is given to many, if not all characters in Kim Jiyoung. There is a tense kind of relief, for example, in Jiyoung’s playful and lighthearted interactions with her siblings, which seem to be the only respite from her everyday life. The backstory of Jiyoung’s mother is given more meaning in her compassion for her daughter; this theme of maternal love in the context of the domestic space is elaborated on through emotionally resonant scenes of concern and anger. Jiyoung’s headstrong sister sacrifices her dreams for her family, but nonchalantly dismisses that sacrifice as familial responsibility. And in a particularly simple but poignant scene, Jiyoung’s brother attempts to figure out Jiyoung’s preferences for bread with Jiyoung’s father, but instead confuses Jiyoung’s preferences for his own. With any comparative reading, of course, it is necessary to acknowledge that a film and a novel are very different mediums and that each may be effective at addressing its subject matter in its own way. Each version of Kim Jiyoung has its imperfections, and the film does possess such imperfections in its somewhat understated nature. Yet while many may turn to the novel version of Kim Jiyoung for a more comprehensive and conspicuous depiction of the gendered dynamics in South Korean society, the film Kim Jiyoung is a more specific account told through the subtle visual symbols in Jiyoung’s life, which is where its merit lies. From a Busan Bank apron — a stunningly mundane and yet powerful representation of Jiyoung’s life that is gifted to Jiyoung by her mother-in-law as a present — to the significance of the spilled coffee on a cafe floor and the subsequent derogatory remarks that ensue, the film’s visual cues of a society’s divisions shape the life of the woman it portrays. As a fictional narrative, Kim Jiyoung’s nuance lies in its specificity. Yet this specificity is what makes the film — and the character it portrays — a truly empowering account of reality. Well-intended feminist South Korean drama Kim Ji-young, Born 1982 is realistic and heart-breaking, but the slow-paced and tell-more-than-show narration could be disappointing to housewife in her 30s, Kim Ji-young Jung Yu-mi, is distressed and exhausted from taking care of the household and her young daughter, as well as fulfilling her society’s expectations of a married day when visiting her in-laws with her husband Dae-hyeon Gong Yoo, she suddenly acts and speaks like her mother by speaking against her mother-in-law, who exploits her and expects her to obediently follow her orders and do all the about his wife’s mental health, Dae-hyeon tries to search for information online and seek help from a psychiatrist, hoping to figure out what’s wrong with his around the mental struggles and life of Ji-young, female lead Yu-mi gives a consistently natural and convincing performance, accompanied by a professional with plenty of dialogue and some flashbacks, the lifelike movie is pretty straightforward and mostly saddening, with a few of good punchlines but also a couple of cliche scenes. But with everything either told or shown explicitly on screen, there’s a lack of subtleness and variety in the way the story is Addams Family review Charlize Theron and Oscar Isaac headline charming animated reboot about celebrating differencesWhile the director does a good job in reflecting and challenging the gender inequalities and prescribed gender roles observed in the South Korean society, there are moments where a couple of scenes - whose appearances are not clearly explained - seem almost a little too random and merely added for the sake of social by Cho Nam-joo’s best-selling novel of the same name, Kim Ji-young, Born 1982 is an average women- empowering story with a potential to be told with more care and up for the YP Teachers NewsletterGet updates for teachers sent directly to your inboxNicola Chan is a former Young Post reporter. A firm believer in education and self-care, she has a strong interest in writing about teenage psychology and mental health. She’s also constantly on the hunt for stories about inspiring students and campus events. She has a master’s degree in Comparative Literature. The Long Plot, Sans Spoilers Jung Yu Mi plays Kim Ji-Young, a regular mom who left her career to focus on raising her child. Gong Yoo plays Jung Dae Hyun, Ji-Young's caring husband. Conflicts arise in and out of the household when Ji-Young gets afflicted with a psychiatric condition, where she "turns" into another person those close to her, like her mom and sister. Throughout the movie, the struggles of women in a patriarchal society are also shown, such as workplace issues, sexual harassment, and family expectations. The Short, Honest Plot A peek into the life of a stay-at-home mom who was a former career woman. She was ordinary...except that she has a loving hubby that looks like a god and whose only flaw, really, is his bossy AF mother and a psychiatric condition. The Actors And Where You Last Saw Them Jung Yu Mi as Kim Ji-Young Prior to this film, Yu Mi starred in the movie Psychokinesis 2018 with Ryu Seung Ryong and in the series Live 2018 with Lee Kwang Soo. ADVERTISMENT - CONTINUE READING BELOW ↓ Gong Yoo as Jung Dae Hyun Gong Yoo's most recent acting projects before this film were Train To Busan, The Age Of Shadows, and Goblin all in 2016. Did You Know? 1. This is Yu Mi and Gong Yoo's third movie together! The previous ones were Train To Busan and Silenced 2011. 2. The pair also belong to the same entertainment agency called Soop, which manages other big K-drama stars like Bae Suzy, Choi Woo Sik who was also in Train To Busan, and rom-com queen Gong Hyo Jin. ADVERTISMENT - CONTINUE READING BELOW ↓ 3. Suzy promoted the movie of her sunbae labelmates on her IG, but this didn't sit well with people who negatively viewed the movie's feminist theme. 4. Kim Ji-Young Born 1982 was actually based on a book of the same name. The novel, written by Cho Nam-Joo, sold over a million copies in Korea but also received criticisms because of the sensitive issues it touched upon. ADVERTISMENT - CONTINUE READING BELOW ↓ 5. Seo Ji Hye who played Seo Dan in Crash Landing On You and Red Velvet's Irene both revealed having read the novel...and both drew flak for it. What My Friends Think "I watched Kim Ji-Young primarily because I'm a huge Gong Yoo fan. I am so grateful I came out with more than my share of Gong Yoo goodness. It's a story about the everyday woman, often trapped with society's long-established rules and expectations. Every woman would find a piece of herself in Kim Ji-Young. I liked that the film showed pieces of her life randomly, and how it narrated how her current actions are effects of previous life experiences, and how society—from her family, work, and even her husband—had a hand in making Kim Ji-Young 'broken.' The movie doesn't want to present a clear-cut solution to an ingrained cultural and societal problem, but wants to raise awareness so that women will find her support system. And in the movie, Kim Ji-Young gets that. She actively seeks it. And I wish that every woman does the same. ADVERTISMENT - CONTINUE READING BELOW ↓ "The film left me with much appreciation for my mom, to fellow women who choose to live outside of herself every day—choosing her kids, peace, and family. Most of all, I gained a much deeper sense of respect for myself—how strong, worthy, and enough I am." —Agatha "The movie tackled a lot of issues most women have to face on a daily basis, which should not be the norm. Cameras in bathroom stalls, condescending male peers, having to sacrifice career for the family or vice versa, being expected to serve in the kitchen, being judged [when you're still single in your 30s]—these are just some of the issues shown in the movie. Most women just learn to adjust, to give in, to sacrifice, and maybe it's high time that society recognizes that men can and should adjust, too. ADVERTISMENT - CONTINUE READING BELOW ↓ "And in the end, sometimes, all we need is for someone to listen. We don't need someone else to solve our problems for us all the time. A little support, a listening ear, and a lot of love can go a long way. Kudos to the author for writing such a novel despite being in a mostly patriarchal society, and for the producers for making it into a movie. This enabled a lot more people to read/watch it around the world." —Costa What I Think Pinays would appreciate this movie because it's very honest and relatable. The setting is Korea, but a lot of issues are encountered by Pinays especially Pinay moms, too. You're probably familiar with the career-versus-family debates, the meddling in-laws, the judge-y people when someone brings their noisy toddler to a cafe. It'll be a great chance for you to reflect and just know that you're not alone in your struggles. ADVERTISMENT - CONTINUE READING BELOW ↓ Another great thing about it is how the husband chose to deal with his wife's condition. He didn't impose anything on her or pushed her to seek treatment. He patiently cared for her, helped her whenever he could, and waited for her to help herself. I believe it's the best approach whenever you're dealing with a partner struggling with a mental health issue. I didn't expect to like the movie because it lacked kilig and heart-stopping plot twists aka prerequisites for my favorite dramas these days. But in the end, Kim Ji-Young made me feel empowered. It's a woke portrayal of an average woman and it acknowledged her struggles and strengths—qualities that make her extraordinary and admirable. ADVERTISMENT - CONTINUE READING BELOW ↓ I'd Recommend It To Everyone, really, for ~*awareness*~ but most especially for married couples or those who are thinking about getting married Follow Ginyn on Instagram. by Cho Nam-JoI knew that the Republic of Korea South Korea and India celebrate Independence Day on the 15th of August. What I didn’t know was how similar the cultures of these two countries were until I read Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982. This million-copy bestseller, written by Cho Nam-Joo, translated into English by Jamie Chang with audiobook narration by Jamie Parker deserves it’s tremendous success and more. The cover with a sketch of a face framed by black hair but no features laid atop a city skyline, highlights by its absence, the commonplace life of its eponymous protagonist, Kim Jiyoung in urban South Korea. Like the simple cover, it is a simple story, simply told. What makes it special, is the way it draws in readers through its matter of fact telling of a story that plays out in every country that is burdened by patriarchy. Jiyoung, a young woman in Seoul starts showing signs of mental imbalance in the autumn of 2015, a year after the birth of her daughter. At first it seems odd to find an educated, modern young woman falling apart despite a comfortable, happily married family life but as the story unfolds, the reasons become apparent. It isn’t always one moment of horrific trauma that makes people crack but the cumulative effects of a lifetime of being at the receiving end of small, thoughtless aggressions, something that girls in Korea and world over routinely face, a series of episodes that can ultimately destroy a person’s well-being. Jiyoung, the quiet, second daughter born in a traditional family where the father goes out to work while her mother stays home, observes and quickly normalises her life in a culture that prefers male children. While she is expected to share everything from a blanket to a treat with her sister, her much-younger brother gets the best portions of food, better clothes, and of course, more attention from their parents and grandmother. “It didn’t occur to the child Jiyoung that her brother was receiving special treatment, and so she wasn’t even jealous. That’s how it had always been.”As we follow Jiyoung’s growth through her childhood years 1982-19940, adolescence 1995-200, early adulthood 2001-2011, and marriage 2012-2015, through ordinary episodes of school and workplace bullying, family expectations before and after marriage, we uncover the myriad ways in which a person’s soul can be effaced. The unfolding of the systematic effects of patriarchy is so gradual that it doesn’t come across as punitive or intentional. It is revealed for what it is, an insidious state of being . Jiyoung’s father and later, her husband, appear to be mild-mannered men of not much consequence. It is the women who are the complicit perpetrators of patriarchy. Jiyoung’s paternal grandmother, who despite her hard life with four sons and an incompetent husband a man with a fair complexion and soft hands, who never worked a day in his life doesn’t resent her him because he didn’t sleep around or hit her. Even though three of her four sons turn out to be ungrateful, her heartfelt wish for the only daughter-in-law, Jiyoung’s mother, who takes care of her is “You should have a son. You must have a son. You must have at least two sons.”Jiyoung’s mother is more than just the compliant meek daughter-in-law. She is the backbone of the family, the one with business savvy and foresight who uplifts the family’s standard of living and enables her daughters but still favors her youngest child, the hardwon growth from a primarily agricultural society to an industrialised one and its impact on society provides the backdrop on which the characters grow and change, thereby enabling the transformation of the country. But they each bear the human cost of their participation in the country’s progress as it plays out in small and large ways in their own periodic intervals, the novel provides footnotes for reference to relevant statistics on government policies and other measures. These helpful asides are not mere digressions. They add veracity to the story of one fictional protagonist who represents her generation. The introduction in Korea of family planning’, a government sanctioned measure to limit the expanding population when combined with easy access to ultra-sound technology leads to sex-selective abortions and an alarmingly skewed gender ratio. The short-sightedness of such programmes in cultures that favour male children and the inevitable impact that serves to further exacerbate existing problems were effortlessly portrayed through Jiyoung’s life. Whether it’s her interaction with bullies or perverts or outright chauvinists, Jiyoung’s story hits uncomfortably close to makes the story work is the clinically detached narration. I admired the absence of sentimentality that kept the story moving briskly as well as the simplicity of the prose that stayed true to its purpose of just telling the story. I first heard the audiobook and then read the print version. On both occasions, I found myself getting worked up, my short breaths fanning my anger at the way people make choices to conform to the bias of society, cleanly sidestepping responsibility for all the wrongs that follow. Even as I wrote this review, I had to stop and take deep breaths to continue. What makes the novel real is not just Jiyoung’s struggle to make her way through a world that seems to be systematically wired with landmines to trip her progress, but the fact that at several points, she comes across women who in their own limited way, try to make a difference. Whether it is a young classmate in school who decides to stand up to an unfair system that puts girls at a disadvantage or the stranger on the bus who rescues her on a dark night at a bus stop and tells her “It’s not your fault”, there are women who work within the system to uplift one woman at a time, through words or actions, however trivial they may favorite character was Jiyoung’s mother, herself a victim of a generation where female siblings willingly worked in their youth to put their brothers through school and later spent their adult life supporting their own family. With her entrepreneurial spirit and courage, she brings financial stability to her home and takes a stand to enable her daughters to have a better life than what she could do for herself. But in the end, she is a victim of her circumstances and her biases, just like the therapist who tries to piece together Jiyoung’s case in the context of his own life. The strength of the story lies both in the telling of it and in it’s conclusion that the ills of society cannot be condoned, even if it is co-opted by the majority. What it does not do is provide a neat solution, either for Jiyoung or for the reader. My opinion With translations into eighteen languages, this book should be made essential reading for girls, boys, and their parents all over the you read this book? Or come across similar books by writers from other countries? ? Drop me a note in comments. “What do you want from us? The dumb girls are too dumb, the smart girls are too smart, and the average girls are too unexceptional?” These are lines in Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 by Cho Nam-joo, the Korean novel hailed by The Guardian as a “South Korean MeToo bestseller.” With the recent release of the English translation by Jamie Chang, the groundbreaking feminist novel is now available to readers who seek to understand how society has designed the struggles of the modern Korean woman. The book focuses on the silent and subtle injustices experienced by a woman named Kim Jiyoung, whose name is implied to represent the Korean “Everywoman.” Cho’s narrative tracks the progression from childhood to adulthood, with inequality as the central aspect of Jiyoung’s life. These stories, which read more like third-person anecdotes, are interspersed with commentary and statistics that problematize how gender inequality manifests in South Korea. To that effect, Cho’s reportage emphasizes the broader contexts of sexist practices and institutions, while Jiyoung herself serves as the individual microcosm where daily sexism becomes apparent. The almost “hybrid” nature of the book is instrumental in illustrating the dynamics of womanhood. It is here that Kim Jiyoung evolves beyond a specific literary character and is given greater depth as the representation for a societal issue. As a child, Jiyoung is forced to endure a classmate’s daily harassment under the justification of “boys will be boys.” As a young adult, she cannot get hired because she is a woman; when she does get a job, she cannot get promoted. When she is married, she is forced to sacrifice her job to be a wife, which is implied to be the “only” job that she needs. When she is pregnant, she is told she is entitled for arriving to work late. When she becomes a housewife, her domestic labor is demeaned. At its core, Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 expresses a woman’s struggles with what has become mundane and mediocre, products of a society that relegates women to inferior positions. These instances of sexism express the book’s central idea that not only is it difficult to be a woman, but also that cultural values have influenced a woman’s identity. As such, these values have become embedded into the very fabric of South Korean society. They have come to determine how women are allowed to live. There are so many poignant moments in the novel that it is difficult to only talk about one. Rather, it is necessary to examine the entirety of these moments as a composite whole. Within Jiyoung’s experience, both the mundane and the mediocre stem from the denial of equal opportunity and upward mobility for a woman. Yet they are also reflections of how for the Korean woman, mediocrity becomes normalized. Jiyoung experiences the imposition of gender constructs through both microaggressions and blatant attacks. Her subliminal acts of rebellion against these constructs involve her assuming the role of different women she has known throughout her life, including her mother. She is suspected to have postnatal depression, but it is psychosis that she has been driven to by a patriarchal society. What Cho does superbly well is create an atmosphere of suffocation and frustration. She evokes this all-consuming sense of helplessness within the emptiness of Jiyoung’s life; there is a constant idea that for Jiyoung, there is no way of dismantling the patriarchy other than losing the identity that she has created within it. The disintegration of Kim Jiyoung’s identity becomes a kind of rebellion, and the chronological structure of the book adds to its power. The reader does not just witness Jiyoung’s sadness as a housewife, but the quiet anger throughout her life as a woman. The English translation of Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 is admittedly not without shortcomings. There are parts where the language becomes so stiff that the book is difficult to truly comprehend. At times, the dialogue is awkwardly stilted, one of the issues that comes with translation as a process. But Chang handles Cho’s simplicity with skill, rendering the same ideas that were so powerful in the original. With Cho’s sensitive and forceful writing, Jiyoung becomes more than the profile of a Korean woman. She becomes universal, an expression of not only the “Everywoman” of injustices, but the “Everywoman” of human experience. “What do you want from us?” Jiyoung asks. Cho never gives an answer.

kim ji young born 1982 review