In this blog post, I’ll examine the mixed reviews surrounding Director Lee Myung-se’s film ‘Detective Duelist’. I’ll also analyze why Sad Eyes betrayed the Minister of War, how Nam-soon and Sad Eyes fell in love, and the significance of the final duel scene to discuss the film’s true value.
- From 'No Mercy' to 'Detective Duelist'
- Is there a truly important element missing from the story of 'Detective Duelist'?
- Why did “Sad Eyes” betray the Minister of War?
- Why did Nam-soon and Sad Eyes fall in love with each other?
- Why is the final confrontation between Nam-soon and Sad Eyes a scene of love?
- Concluding My Defense of 'Detective Duelist'
From ‘No Mercy’ to ‘Detective Duelist’
I can’t say for certain exactly when I saw that movie or why I felt that way, but Director Lee Myung-se’s ‘No Mercy’ still remains in my memory as a “great” film. Of course, back when I first saw it, I had no intention of taking the film seriously—I didn’t even think I “had” to watch it properly. For that reason, I didn’t experience ‘No Mercy’ on a movie theater screen, but rather on a small TV screen.
But ‘No Mercy’ was truly cool. The pouring rain, “Holiday” by the Bee Gees, and—even if it was cliché—the verbal sparring between the two lead actors. These scenes left a strong impression on me back then and ultimately led me to add Lee Myung-se’s name to the list of “the few directors whose names I can recall.”
It wasn’t until quite some time later that I heard news of ‘Detective Duelist’. I had some reservations about the casting of Ha Ji-won and Kang Dong-won, but I figured I could overlook that as long as Director Lee Myung-se’s name and my memories of ‘No Mercy’ were involved. I missed the premiere, but I managed to get a ticket for a screening where a post-show Q&A was scheduled. I fully anticipated the fervor of the countless female fans who adore Kang Dong-won, but if it meant I could hear Director Lee Myung-se speak—even briefly—in person, that was a price worth paying.
And on the day I saw the film, Director Lee Myung-se’s remarks were brief. He noted that while reviews of the film are currently polarized, just as there are various genres in art, he asked that viewers approach this film from a slightly different perspective, as if it were a different genre. He added that if we did so, we would surely discover something.
Of course, judging solely by box office numbers, it seems Director Lee Myung-se’s request wasn’t fully heeded. Even among those who hadn’t seen it, ‘Detective Duelist’ was becoming a footnote in Korean film history, branded as “a movie with nothing but flashy visuals.”
But I like this movie. That’s because if you look just a little closer, you’ll realize that Director Lee Myung-se’s request and assurance were by no means in vain. In fact, it’s a film that allows you to experience the process of discovering what he spoke of—and the results of that journey.
There’s certainly no excuse for the fact that it wasn’t chosen by the majority of audiences. If that’s the fate of films shown in multiplexes, then so be it. However, I believe there is ample room not for excuses, but for a defense against the one-sided criticism that borders on a stigma.
To put it simply, ‘Detective Duelist’ is ‘absolutely’ not a film that deserves to be labeled as “nothing but a visually flashy movie.”
Is there a truly important element missing from the story of ‘Detective Duelist’?
If we simplify the story of ‘Detective Duelist’ as much as possible, it goes like this:
Amid national turmoil, counterfeit money is being produced and circulated, and Nam-soon and An Po-gyo begin an investigation to uncover its source. In the process, Nam-soon encounters an assassin named Sad Eyes, and while the two clash in pursuit of their respective goals, they also fall in love.
However, Nam-soon is a police officer, while Sad Eyes is an agent of the Minister of War, who is distributing the counterfeit money and, furthermore, plotting a rebellion. Nam-soon is tormented by the fact that he must arrest the person he loves, and “Sad Eyes,” who must kill Nam-soon, feels the same way. Ultimately, “Sad Eyes” steals a transaction document—the decisive clue proving the Minister of War’s crimes—and hands it to Nam-soon. Having secured the evidence, the Left Police Bureau storms the Minister of War’s residence, and both the Minister of War and “Sad Eyes” meet their ends.
This is the most simplified version of the surface-level plot of ‘Detective Duelist’. Throughout its 111-minute runtime, the story unfolds as a “duel” centered on the two characters, Nam-soon and Sad Eyes, just as the word “Duelist” in the title suggests.
Of course, according to Director Lee Myung-se’s cinematic philosophy, such a narrative is merely a “pretext” and should be kept to a minimum. In an interview about film, he once stated that a story is a pretext for showing something—in other words, a MacGuffin. This means that a story is crafted to serve the purpose of revealing what the film intends to show.
However, the “pretext” Director Lee Myung-se presents to the audience in ‘Detective Duelist’ conceals a great deal within itself. It is, at the very least, a “plausible” pretext.
Setting aside those who rashly dismiss it as “a childish story with flashy visuals,” the criticisms leveled at the film’s narrative almost always revolve around two issues.
First, there is no explanation given for why Sad Eyes betrays the Minister of War; second, there is no reason why Nam-soon and Sad Eyes fall in love with each other. Of course, while quite a few viewers brushed off the second issue by saying, “Let’s just assume it was love at first sight,” the first issue was widely perceived as a flaw in the film itself.
But are these issues truly missing from the narrative of ‘Detective Duelist’?
If so, Director Lee Myung-se would have neglected a fatal flaw in the story he presented as an “excuse.” The incident in which Sad Eyes betrays the Minister of War serves as a crucial pivot that brings the entire story to a close. If he failed to provide justification for such an event, it would essentially amount to fabricating a “far-fetched excuse.”
However, in my view, Director Lee Myung-se did not overlook this point. Clearly, the narrative of ‘Detective Duelist’ contains various clues that could resolve such issues. The problem is that these clues are not immediately apparent, and the task of discovering and connecting them was left to the audience.
In this regard, the exchange between film critic Professor Kang Han-seop and Director Lee Myung-se is quite interesting.
In an article published in ‘Film 2.0’, Professor Kang Han-seop categorized the reactions to ‘Detective Duelist’ at the time as enthusiasm, indifference, dissatisfaction, and apathy, expressing concern over the film’s box office performance. Given that the production budget reached 10 billion won, commercial success was expected, but the audience’s response fell far short of those expectations.
He told Director Lee Myung-se that if they were aiming for a blockbuster, there really ought to have been at least one fateful kiss scene between Kang Dong-won and Ha Ji-won. Director Lee Myung-se reportedly retorted that the scene where the two clash swords in a duel was, in a sense, their kiss.
Professor Kang Han-seop didn’t stop there; he also pointed out problems with the screenplay. He argued that two of the most crucial plotlines were missing. He argued that there was no explanation for why “Sad Eyes” and Nam-soon fell in love at first sight, or why “Sad Eyes” betrayed the Minister of War.
However, Director Lee Myung-se’s response was different. He argued that a film is not a novel but a poem and a series of images. Since Flaubert’s theory of “one thing, one word” was even brought up during this exchange, one can imagine just how intense the debate between the two must have been.
Professor Kang Han-seop also recounted Director Lee Myung-se’s confident demeanor at the time. When a reporter described him as “still acting like a child who hasn’t grown up,” Director Lee reportedly replied along the lines of “film is forever young.” When Professor Kang Han-seop argued that making a loud noise at the center of the world was a matter of survival, Director Lee countered that filmmaking isn’t about making a loud noise.
To him, a film was a love letter sent to the audience—more like a small note. He explained that cinema is about that note being passed on to people and spreading like a lucky letter.
What’s particularly interesting here is his analogy comparing the audience to “fishermen.” He explained that when a director releases countless fish into the water, the audience catches a few of them based on their own abilities and tastes.
Professor Kang Han-seop, while finding Director Lee Myung-se’s stubbornness and confidence frustrating, insisted that ‘Detective Duelist’ absolutely had to be a box-office hit. He argued that only if the film succeeded would Director Lee Myung-se be able to “compromise” a little. Otherwise, he would once again have to sit up drinking until dawn, listening to lectures about “true cinema” and the “essence of film.”
This anecdote captures both Director Lee Myung-se’s perspective on film and the critics’ concerns regarding it. It also provides a crucial clue for understanding the two narrative issues mentioned earlier.
Why did “Sad Eyes” betray the Minister of War?
The two issues pointed out by Professor Kang Han-seop are certainly important. However, I believe they are not missing from the plot but are hidden within the film, scattered across various scenes.
Therefore, if you find those clues and connect them appropriately, only then—as Director Lee Myung-se said—will the audience reel in the “fish” that is the “story.” Of course, it probably won’t be the biggest catch you can land in ‘Detective Duelist’.
First, let’s examine why Sad Eyes betrays the Minister of War. The answer to this question lies in Sad Eyes’ “name,” which appears throughout the film.
From the beginning to the end of the film, the Minister of War never calls Sad Eyes by name. Although he says “I love you” as if it were a catchphrase, even in the final moment when the police storm into the house to arrest him and he stands back-to-back with Sad Eyes, the Minister of War cannot recall her name.
To be precise, he was “unable” to call her by name. And he is surprised by the fact that he does not know Sad Eyes’ name.
This scene reveals what Sad Eyes meant to the Minister of War. To him, Sad Eyes was merely a “means” he had raised as an assassin to serve his own mission. Although the Minister of War claimed to love Sad Eyes, in the end, he loved her only as a necessary tool for his own purposes. To the Minister of War, Sad Eyes did not exist as a “person” in her own right.
This interpretation can also be considered in connection with Kim Chun-su’s poem “Flower.” The poem’s message—that a being only gains meaning through the act of being named—serves as a good example for understanding the relationship between Sad Eyes and the Minister of War.
It is also worth considering in a similar context the German philosopher Heidegger’s statement that language is the “house of being.” This means that language is not merely a tool for designating objects, but plays a crucial role in how we perceive objects and understand the meaning of their existence.
Even X-rays, which had existed for a long time, could only be recognized as a specific entity after they were discovered by humans and given a name. In this way, the act of naming and recognizing goes beyond the mere use of a label.
The same applies to Sad Eyes. The fact that the Minister of War does not even know his own name is not merely a matter of failing to remember a single name. It signifies that Sad Eyes’ very existence as a human being has not been properly acknowledged by the Minister of War.
This situation is revealed throughout the film. Sad Eyes was aware of this aspect of the Minister of War, and so, even if he could not bring himself to kill him, he would sometimes brandish his sword at him. This is likely the natural anger one feels toward someone who distorts—or even erases—one’s very existence.
However, the more significant issue with this portrayal lies in the story’s structure. The decisive clue explaining why Sad Eyes had no choice but to betray the Minister of War—namely, the scene where the Minister, standing back-to-back with Sad Eyes, is taken aback by not knowing his name—is not revealed to the audience until after everything has already unfolded.
This is the scene that resolves the curiosity that has persisted from the beginning to the end of the film. Why did Sad Eyes swing his sword in anger at the Minister of War? And why did he ultimately betray him? The film reveals the answers to these questions only at the very end.
However, since the story in this film serves merely as a “pretext,” it offers no further explanation. It presents only the bare minimum of evidence to serve as a reason; clear, detailed descriptions or special emphasis are hard to find.
Therefore, when the audience sees the Minister of War at the end, they must go to the trouble of retracing the story they’ve seen so far and reconstructing it from the beginning.
This structure differs from the conventional cause-and-effect relationship, where the cause appears first and the result follows; moreover, the lack of even a helpful description to aid understanding clearly places a burden on the audience. For viewers accustomed to the narrative style of conventional genre films, this structure may feel like an unfriendly “betrayal.”
Furthermore, this lack of user-friendliness may prevent viewers from enjoying the film and even lead them to avoid actively reflecting on its meaning. From the common perspective that films which capture the audience’s interest and move many people are the ones that succeed at the box office, the burden this film places on viewers is by no means small.
However, this is merely “unfriendliness”—it does not mean that anything has been “left out” of the story.
In other words, it is a method that requires the audience to think a little more deeply; it is not a flaw in the story itself that warrants a lower evaluation.
Why did Nam-soon and Sad Eyes fall in love with each other?
The discussion regarding names and existence also reveals the decisive reason why Sad Eyes falls for Nam-soon.
Unlike the Minister of War, who has lived with him for decades yet doesn’t even know his own name, Nam-soon asks Sad Eyes for his “name” the moment they meet.
This point is made even clearer in Kim Ho-kyung’s novel ‘Detective’, published based on the film’s screenplay. It’s the moment when Nam-soon, looking at Sad Eyes, comes to the realization that he must know his name.
Even though they met as adversaries, Nam-soon does not treat Sad Eyes merely as an assassin. He wants to know who he is and shows genuine interest in him as a human being. Unlike the Minister of War, who viewed him solely as a tool—an assassin—Sad Eyes came to feel a corresponding fondness for Nam-soon, who took an interest in his very existence.
So why does Nam-soon feel this fondness for Sad Eyes?
Nam-soon is cheerful and spirited, with a quick temper and a fiery personality. At times, she displays such a rough and assertive demeanor that she seems more like a man than a woman. However, Nam-soon also has a tragic past. Of course, this backstory can only be inferred from Monk An’s dialogue; it is not depicted directly or in detail in the film.
Nevertheless, this backstory is, quite literally, a crucial foundation for the narrative of ‘Detective Duelist’.
When Nam-soon first saw Sad Eyes’ bare face, the first thing that left an impression on her was his sad eyes. From that moment on, he became “the person with sad eyes” to Nam-soon.
In other words, one could say that Nam-soon saw her own sadness reflected in his sad eyes.
This naturally led to interest and affection, eventually developing into love.
These emotions can also be linked to what psychology refers to as “projective identification.” Projective identification is a concept that describes the psychological process in interpersonal relationships where one projects aspects of one’s own unconscious self or the traits of a specific object onto another person, and then forms a relationship with that projected image.
An explanation related to this can also be found in Kim Hye-nam’s ‘Do I Really Love You?’. The author suggests that independent people are more likely to choose dependent partners because they seek to re-experience and fulfill the need for dependence that they had suppressed in the past.
From this perspective, Nam-soon’s feelings can be understood as her discovering the sadness still lingering within herself in the character “Sad Eyes” and being drawn to him.
Ultimately, the love between Nam-soon and “Sad Eyes” is not merely a sudden, inexplicable emotion. Nam-soon showed interest in “Sad Eyes” simply because of his existence, and “Sad Eyes” became the person who reflected the sadness residing within Nam-soon. Although the two have different circumstances and goals, they each discovered in the other something that was lacking or hidden within themselves.
So far, I’ve attempted my own analysis centered on the two main points of contention raised regarding the story of ‘Detective Duelist’. However, I don’t believe this interpretation requires an enormous amount of knowledge or a complicated process.
Of course, it may not be easy to express these ideas logically in writing or speech. However, if viewers simply connect the dots between elements they already know, they’ll find that the film contains plenty of plausible plot devices.
Furthermore, this approach has the advantage of leaving plenty of room for the audience’s imagination. In fact, some people I know imagined a homosexual relationship based on the scene where the Minister of War tells Sad Eyes, “I love you.” Because the film does not clearly define the meaning of the relationship in a single way, each viewer is free to attempt their own interpretation.
Given that the story of ‘Detective Duelist’ embraces such a wide range of possibilities, I think it would be a great shame to dismiss it as a “failed” film simply because it isn’t structured around conventional, natural cause-and-effect relationships, or because the necessary explanations aren’t explicitly laid out in detail on the surface.
Why is the final confrontation between Nam-soon and Sad Eyes a scene of love?
Many viewers do not hesitate to cite the final confrontation between Nam-soon and Sad Eyes as the most memorable scene in ‘Detective Duelist’. Personally, I also think that scene is truly “brilliant.”
And, like many viewers, I agree with the interpretation that the scene thoroughly embodies an act of “love.”
‘Detective Duelist’ is fundamentally a film built around a conflict structure. This structure is presented so clearly that it can be understood through the concept of “binary opposition” proposed by the structuralist anthropologist Claude Lévi-Strauss.
At a basic level, one could view the conflict between good and evil as embodied in the confrontation between Nam-soon and Sad Eyes. Perhaps this is also why many viewers find the film’s narrative childish—after all, the framework of the conflict between good and evil has been repeatedly used in countless cultural products.
However, what makes ‘Detective Duelist’ unique is the way it resolves this binary opposition.
Generally, the conflict between good and evil is resolved when one side unilaterally punishes the other. However, through the love between Nam-soon and Sad Eyes, this film creates an “atypical category”—one that defies explanation through conventional dichotomies—and presents it as the solution.
And the scene where this characteristic is most clearly revealed is the final showdown.
First, let’s examine the elements that clearly demonstrate this scene is an act of love.
To begin with, the movements of the two characters as they wield their swords are strikingly different from those typically seen in martial arts films. This stems from the “tango” that director Lee Myung-se instructed the two actors to learn. In fact, during the final showdown, the two lovers perform a dazzling display of movements that resemble a tango.
This expression also aligns well with the nature of the tango itself. As a type of ballroom dance, the tango conveys a sensual atmosphere through close embraces, intense eye contact, and bodily movements. Therefore, the duel between the two characters—which borrows the movements of the tango—carries a meaning that goes beyond a simple sword fight.
The sight of two characters who must kill each other moving as if they were lovers simultaneously expresses both their circumstances and their emotions. The form of the tango lends credibility to the interpretation that this scene is an act of love.
Paradoxically, these movements of love manifest as a life-or-death swordfight. This can be seen as a metaphorical expression of sexual desire, aggression, and the meaning of death—concepts frequently discussed in psychology.
Kim Hye-nam’s ‘Do I Really Love You?’ also explores the potential for aggression inherent in sexual union and intimacy. The act of drawing closer to one another and breaking down boundaries is an intense experience of union, but it simultaneously carries the risk of revealing the primal desires or aggression lurking within both oneself and the other.
Nam-soon and Sad Eyes’ final confrontation can also be viewed from this perspective. The two lock blades and attack each other, yet their movements simultaneously appear to be an act of drawing closer to one another and becoming one. What could be a dangerous move capable of killing the other is, in fact, transformed into an expression of love.
Crucially, throughout their confrontation, their breathing continues in a steady rhythm. The sound of their breathing, flowing in tandem with the clanging of the blades, makes their confrontation feel like an even more intimate and sensual act.
Another point worth noting here is the division of the frame created by the wall where the duel takes place and the shadows it casts.
This scene does not artificially split the frame through editing but rather divides it using light and shadow as part of the mise-en-scène. A diagonal line of light and darkness divides the screen in two, with Sad Eyes standing in the shadow and Nam-soon standing in the light.
However, the two characters do not remain confined to their respective zones. Nam-soon and Sad Eyes cross the boundary between light and darkness, exchanging blows with their knives.
I believe this scene clearly demonstrates what Director Lee Myung-se sought to achieve in the film. It reveals his intention to convey meaning to the audience through cinematic imagery, rather than through dialogue or narration.
Light and darkness form two distinct realms. Nam-soon and Sad Eyes, situated within them, evoke the dichotomy of good and evil. Yet the two cross into each other’s realms, exchanging blows as if dancing, and—while in opposition—create a single, unified movement.
Viewed through Lévi-Strauss’s concept of binary opposition, this can be understood as the introduction of an “exceptional category” as a means of resolving the conflict between two opposing categories.
In typical films, the conflict between good and evil is often resolved by good punishing evil. However, ‘Detective Duelist’ does not conclude the story solely with the punishment of the Minister of War. Instead, it presents another category: the “blending” of Nam-soon and Sad Eyes.
Light and darkness are distinct, yet the two characters cross that boundary. Although they stand on opposing sides, their exchange of blows becomes a dance, and that dance becomes an expression of love.
Ultimately, I believe this final duel is not merely the climax of a simple martial arts action sequence, but a scene that visually embodies the relationship between conflict and love that has run through the entire film.
And this interpretation demonstrates once again that the story of ‘Detective Duelist’ is not as simple as it may seem.
Concluding My Defense of ‘Detective Duelist’
Up to this point, I have attempted—albeit imperfectly—to defend ‘Detective Duelist’ in my own way.
I also considered approaching the film through the coming-of-age story of “Sad Eyes” or the mythical elements present within it. However, since the film has already been pulled from theaters and the DVD has not yet been released, it was difficult to gather materials, and I was ultimately unable to analyze those aspects in depth.
Although I’ve drawn on many different ideas, what lingered in my mind throughout the writing of this piece were the words of Director Lee Myung-se.
“The audience is the fisherman.” This refers to the idea that, from the countless fish the director has set free, the audience catches a few based on their own abilities and tastes.
I enjoyed watching ‘Detective Duelist’. And I was one of those who felt dissatisfied that the film left theaters sooner than expected and that its significance was largely undervalued. So, in my own way, I tried to defend and analyze this film.
But looking back now, just how many of the fish Director Lee Myung-se set free did I actually catch?
Even I don’t know the answer to that. All I can do is hope the DVD comes out soon.
Still, there’s a reason I harbor a strange sense of hope. It’s because I can’t completely rule out the possibility that the fish I think I caught weren’t the ones Director Lee Myung-se set free himself, but rather another kind of fish that inevitably emerges between the director and the audience.
If that’s the case, as a viewer who’s just begun to enjoy the film, I think I’d feel a truly great sense of “fulfillment.”
Perhaps this is precisely what Director Lee Myung-se meant when he spoke of the audience as fishermen. It’s not just about accurately identifying the director’s intentions, but also about the viewer discovering something new through their own experiences and thoughts while watching the film.
Of course, this cannot serve as a justification for all of the film’s shortcomings. It’s also undeniable that the film’s meaning—which wasn’t sufficiently conveyed to the audience—and its unfriendly narrative style made it difficult to appreciate. As we’ve seen earlier, such unfriendliness can cause viewers to lose interest in the film.
However, I don’t think we can deny the film’s inherent meaning itself.
I hope that ‘Detective Duelist’ isn’t dismissed simply because it supposedly abandoned the story entirely in favor of visual spectacle, or because the narrative is deemed childish. I hope it receives at least some recognition even from those who judge it solely on the basis of “entertainment value” by comparing it to Hollywood films, and who, as a result, undervalue the film’s underlying meaning.
I cannot say to what extent the interpretations I’ve discovered align with Director Lee Myung-se’s intentions. And if I were to watch this film again in the future, I might discover something entirely different from what I see now. However, I believe it is clear that this is, at the very least, a film worth exploring in this way.
‘Detective Duelist’ is not merely a film with dazzling visuals. Hidden within those dazzling visuals are stories and meanings for the audience to discover and ponder.
I firmly believe that ‘Detective Duelist’ is a film worthy of being rediscovered in the future. And as a viewer—and as a new fan of Director Lee Myung-se—I hope that this work will serve as a springboard for him to continue creating films that are uniquely his own.