Hyeong-mo Han’s ironically-titled 1956 film Madame
Freedom isn’t as potently accomplished as some of the similarly-themed
Japanese films of its period, but it’s an absorbing portrait of thwarted
material and sexual ambition. The unfulfilled Madame Oh, married to a self-absorbed
academic, mostly stuck at home with her young son, takes a job in a store selling
high-end imported goods, rapidly getting drawn then into liaisons with other
men and involvement in shady financial schemes, such that she’s almost never
home; the husband meanwhile has his own, much more restrained quasi-flirtation
with a young woman who attends a nighttime grammar class he teaches for a group
of typists. The film focuses mainly on a narrow, relatively privileged echelon
of Korean society, defined in part by the perceived superiority of Western products
and culture (standards like Someone to Watch Over Me and Autumn
Leaves dominate the soundtrack) and material striving, a reference point
which allows its female characters a new-found confidence and sense of
achievement, but at significant personal risk. The film gains much from the withholding
quality of lead actress Jeong-rim Kim, her almost mask-like appearance contributing
to a productive ambiguity: even as she blatantly flirts with and makes arrangements
to meet with other men, it’s unclear how far her desire truly stretches (some
of the quietly saddest moments involve the little boy, perpetually sitting alone at his
little desk). The ending however leaves no doubt that if her husband, now aware
of her conduct, allows her to remain in the home, it will only be as a properly
dutiful and compliant mother and wife, in this context a fate at least preferable
to that of some of her business associates. The film slows down along the way
for several musical numbers, often again Hollywood-influenced, including a
charming if drastically out of place “mambo” number.
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