LIFTING KING KONG Review
Lifting King Kong will be screening as part of Free Korean Movie Night at Tribeca Cinemas on Tuesday, February 8, at 7PM.
Undoubtedly, you've seen Lifting King Kong (a.k.a. The Bronze Medalists) before. I mean in the figurative sense that you've watched the story of a fallen athlete given one last chance at redemption by coaching a team of misfits. You've probably seen that story once or twice in the last week. It's practically part of the DNA of film. However, how many of you can say you've seen that film focused on competitive weightlifting?
Seriously, how many films about weightlifting can you think of without the use of Google?
The unique choice of sport is one of the strongest elements this sports dramadey (more emphasis on drama) has going for it. It's such an unnatural choice for a this kind of movie because so much of the actual sport is solitary--one man against the weights. Amend that: one person against the weights, a distinction I only learned during the course of this movie. I'm ashamed to say that prior to watching Lifting King Kong I was unaware that there was an Olympic category for women's weightlifting. There are female athletes in this demanding and potentially physically hazardous sport as well as men, and as a vocation, we're told by the movie, it holds its own emotional and social perils for women.
But what about the movie itself: well, interesting subject aside, it's somewhat hit or miss. It's a (broad) dramatization (more on this later) of the post-Olympic career of weightlifter Lee Ji-Bong, whose hopes for the gold come crashing down when his arm is shattered during the 1988 Olympics. He's told that not only will the arm not be suitable for professional lifting, but that he has a heart condition that could prove fatal if he overexerts himself.
If I tell you that he has a concerned coach who knows about a school in need of a weightlifting instructor, would you be surprised to learn that Mr. Lee takes the job? The real complication is that it's an all-girls' school and Lee isn't particularly disposed to teaching a bunch of middle school-aged girls the finer points of weightlifting. He's not even sure he knows how. But then he meets Yeong-Ja, a student in desperate poverty, while still maintaining her high spirits. He sees something in her that's been missing in himself and decides to get serious about training the motley crew of misfits who join the team.
The relationship between Mr. Lee and Yeong-Ja is its heart and the strongest part of the film. I dare you not to be touched when he arrives at the girl's home to find out that she's recently been orphaned (again) and her potential caretakers would rather throw the miserable child into an orphanage rather than take on the responsibility of raising her.
Actually, that contrast between cruelty and concern is a consistent element throughout the film: Mr. Lee is a tough but compassionate coach who wants the girls to succeed beyond weightlifting, while on the other side of town, at the "good" school, a rival coach beats and berates his charges, willingly sacrificing their bodies for middle school gold. Through complications much too involved to detail here, this ogre ends up coaching Lee's girls, and the abuses they suffer and horrific to watch.
This is actually where the movie's real problem comes into play: it's hard to reconcile these agonizing scenes with the almost farcical comedy that occupies the middle third or so of the movie. Up until this point, it's essentially a sentimental sports comedy, but then past that point it becomes this grueling, and gruesome drama about the horrors of achievement. Here now, I have to tell you that the last 10 minutes proceeding the finale are one long scene of weeping by the students, undercutting the emotional drama simply by overwhelming the viewer.
It's unfortunate, too, given that--in spite of some broad comedy--there's a lot to recommend the first two thirds of the movie, particularly the performances of Lee Beom-Su as Mr. Lee and Jo An as Yeong-Ja. The interplay between the two characters is consistently affecting, and it's a shame when they're not onscreen together. It remains up to you whether you'll enjoy the huge change in tone in the last act or if you'll be able to roll with the entire movie through the end, however.
