Dinner for One
If nothing else you’ll leave with a healthy appetite for a good Hanjeongsjik.
Number One
Director: Kim Tae-yong • Writer: Kim Tae-yong, based on the book by Sora Uwano
Starring: Choi Woo-sik, Jang Hye-jin, Gong Seung-yeon, You Chea-myung
South Korea • 1hr 46mins
Opens Hong Kong August 6 • I
Grade: B-
There are few sure things in filmmaking, but Hollywood taking the wrong message from the random success of a movie is one, and another is the faith that no concept is too high for Korean fantasy-dramedy. In the last little while we’ve had protective parents with zombie children, porn ghost writer rom-com, and a lawyer saving a failing zoo by essentially turning its staff into furries. So yeah, no such thing is too “out there”. With that rich legacy in mind comes Kim Tae-yong’s Number One | 넘버원, a comedy? Drama? Morality tale? Whatever, about mama’s boy Ha-min (Choi Woo-sik, Parasite, Okja) one day suddenly seeing numbers, literal digits, manifesting on the walls around him starting at 365-ish, and counting down by 1 every time he has a meal made by his beloved mother, Eun-sil (Jang Hye-jin, The World of Love). Naturally, he realises that every roll of the counter means his mother is closer to death by one jjigae, as one would, and so he makes it his life’s mission to avoid eating his mom’s food at all costs. As one would.
There’s nothing inherently wrong with high concept storytelling but they only work when there’s a crystal clear message and/or theme underpinning them, as well as some solid gags, quotable zingers and emotional catharsis: the near-miss A Big Bold Beautiful Journey, Triangle of Sadness and, from the the kings in Korea, Extreme Job come to mind. But Number One isn’t as clever as any of those, nor is its so-called hero particularly worth getting behind given the utter distastefulness of Ha-min, a character in which writer-director Kim (A Girl at My Door) conflates filial devotion with boneheaded, self-centred assholery.
Admittedly there is food porn
The action starts in warm and sunny Busan, with Ha-min and his mother mourning the untimely death of his older brother, which Ha-min blames Eun-sil for. Great start there, guy. But one day he notices those numbers, and after a series of doctors, psychologists and shamans, he realises she’s doomed if they keep having dinner together, and so first he avoids her, then he runs away to icy Seoul, leaving Eun-sil – who was also widowed really young and raised two sons in Korea on her own FFS, Ha-min – alone and feeling unworthy. After all, a woman’s worth is only a high as her ability to cook. Anyway in Seoul, Ha-min becomes a big shot soju executive, and finds the love of his life, Ryeo-eun (Gong Seung-yeon), an orphan looking for connection. When he makes one of those gawdawful public proposals on New Year’s Eve, she says no when he resists bringing his mother into the picture, and he loses them both until he finds a way to explain what’s going on that makes sense to each. The ghost of his dead father (You Chea-myung, Alienoid) helps on that front, but no matter how much dad says “You fool” and his friends and co-workers say, “You fool” Ha-min avoids his mom like the plague and confounds Ryeo-eun, who is nonetheless supportive of his bad, selfish decisions. Then tragedy strikes again, and Eun-sil is saddled with stress thanks to this punk kid. But. He’s her son. You know how this ends: affirmation of the family unit, a reminder of the pain of distance and the notion that fate’s what you make it.
The biggest hurdle blocking any kind of…entry? empathy? resonance? with Ha-min’s dilemma is Ha-min’s unrelenting dickishness and his commitment to selfishness, and Kim’s unwavering belief that Ha-min’s lies of omission, baffling obfuscation and cruelty is understandable and the basis of solid drama and maybe the occasional giggle. Hey, he doesn’t want his mom to die so best to just tell her he can’t stand being around her and she should get stuffed! At least she’ll live a long life. Ditto for for Ryeo-eun (as well as actor Gong, who gets all of jack shit to do) who’s selfless devotion to Ha-min and wistful hopes to have a family to call her own he shits on when he faces a health crisis. It’s the hoary old, I’ll-be-mean-and-my-main-squeeze-will-dump-me-in-a-fit-of-guilt-free-rage-and-be-free-to-have-a-happier-life bullshit lazy screenplays use as a crutch and which are 1) predictable and 2) stupid. And to make matters worse, Kim seems to have zero respect for personal privacy laws as they pertain to health care, making Ha-min’s medical history a plot device. Not even his assholery justifies breaking a confidence like that. It’s not funny. It’s not relatable. It’s just a basis for litigation.
Through it all there’s Jang, turning in a legit performance the material doesn’t earn and making Eun-sil a sympathetic character we get that becomes the beating heart of the story. Of course she’s an idealised, facile mother figure who expresses herself through pickled bean leaves but Jang manages to find an interior life that’s, well, lively and layered, and when she’s not on screen the film is even flatter than usual. Eun-sil deserves better than punk-ass Ha-min and Jang deserves better than this script.