namjhyuns
Dramaland
This isn’t the first Korean period drama to depict a commoner with a particular set of skills gaining intimate access to the royal circle, only to become a pawn in a web of murderous court intrigue. But “The Royal Tailor” stands out with its attention to technical details, conveying beauty in an especially tactile way.
The first half to the story is light-hearted and plays fast and loose with history, devising sights gags to send up Joseon fashion crimes like shoulder pads, push-up bras and platform shoes, which are amusingly anachronistic. But the scenes also serve to paint commoner Kong-jin’s personality in vibrant strokes, such as his preference for the company of gisaeng, who model his provocative designs with sexual confidence, to his habit of hobnobbing with high-ranking snobs.
Meanwhile, Dol-suk is the hands-on artisan who excels at embroidery. He too is from humble origins but has managed through hard work to achieve the title of Royal Tailor, being in charge of making the clothes for the King and Queen, and some nobleman when their highnesses want to give them gifts. Dol-suk is also a few months away from becoming a nobleman himself, this is a very important point for what’s coming in the second half of the story.
Kong-jin, being able to work for commoners, is quickly recognized as the quintessential artist, experimenting with shapes and forms, and drawing inspiration from such mundance objects as a wine jar. His consciousness of style as an individualist statement is epitomized by his habit of burning his logo onto his costumes, the Joseon version of a fashion label.
And the rivalry between the two tailors is loaded with class implications; appalled by Kong-jin’s out-there designs, a nobleman proclaims, “A garment should reflect social status and rules,” echoing the law of the period that prescribes, legally, what each class can wear. While buttressing the hierarchical system, Dol-suk is ironically its victim, barred from donning any of the fancy clothes he makes.
A serie of events leads to Kong-jin entering the palace in order to repair his majesty’s clothes and he soon becomes enamored with the Queen, a breathtaking beauty rumored to be untouched by the king since their wedding night. Kong-jin’s intentions are pure: he wants the Queen to be happy, and she wants the King. So, he embarks in a Joseon make-over the turns more than one head and cuts some others because nothing it’s simple inside the Palace, and getting the attention of the King is of out most importance.
The complexity of the relationships between the four main characters, played effortlessly amazing by Han Suk Kyu, Go Soo, Park Shin hye and Yoo Yeon seok, is one of the many aspects of why this film is a must watch. The pretty clothes are breathtaking but the people wearing them do it in such a manner that’s impossible to take your eyes away. Each movement, color and embroidery has a meaning for the story.
I highly recommend it!
The first half to the story is light-hearted and plays fast and loose with history, devising sights gags to send up Joseon fashion crimes like shoulder pads, push-up bras and platform shoes, which are amusingly anachronistic. But the scenes also serve to paint commoner Kong-jin’s personality in vibrant strokes, such as his preference for the company of gisaeng, who model his provocative designs with sexual confidence, to his habit of hobnobbing with high-ranking snobs.
Meanwhile, Dol-suk is the hands-on artisan who excels at embroidery. He too is from humble origins but has managed through hard work to achieve the title of Royal Tailor, being in charge of making the clothes for the King and Queen, and some nobleman when their highnesses want to give them gifts. Dol-suk is also a few months away from becoming a nobleman himself, this is a very important point for what’s coming in the second half of the story.
Kong-jin, being able to work for commoners, is quickly recognized as the quintessential artist, experimenting with shapes and forms, and drawing inspiration from such mundance objects as a wine jar. His consciousness of style as an individualist statement is epitomized by his habit of burning his logo onto his costumes, the Joseon version of a fashion label.
And the rivalry between the two tailors is loaded with class implications; appalled by Kong-jin’s out-there designs, a nobleman proclaims, “A garment should reflect social status and rules,” echoing the law of the period that prescribes, legally, what each class can wear. While buttressing the hierarchical system, Dol-suk is ironically its victim, barred from donning any of the fancy clothes he makes.
A serie of events leads to Kong-jin entering the palace in order to repair his majesty’s clothes and he soon becomes enamored with the Queen, a breathtaking beauty rumored to be untouched by the king since their wedding night. Kong-jin’s intentions are pure: he wants the Queen to be happy, and she wants the King. So, he embarks in a Joseon make-over the turns more than one head and cuts some others because nothing it’s simple inside the Palace, and getting the attention of the King is of out most importance.
The complexity of the relationships between the four main characters, played effortlessly amazing by Han Suk Kyu, Go Soo, Park Shin hye and Yoo Yeon seok, is one of the many aspects of why this film is a must watch. The pretty clothes are breathtaking but the people wearing them do it in such a manner that’s impossible to take your eyes away. Each movement, color and embroidery has a meaning for the story.
I highly recommend it!
Was this review helpful to you?
