Chihwaseon (Strokes of Fire)

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Drink!

Starring Choi Min-Sik

Ann Sung-Ki

Yoo Ho-Jung

Kim Yuh-Jin, Son Yeah-Jin

Director of Photography

Jung II Sung

Directed by Im Kwon Taek

Here it is, mounted.

What talent!

It emanates divine strength,

as if ghosts were dancing around it.

He seems to paint by the rules,

yet he doesn't.

He follows and breaks them

at the same time.

One stroke is worth ten thousand.

Ten thousand strokes in one!

What do rules have to do

with my painting?

Crazy yokel!

How can a bumpkin dauber claim

to question the rules of art?

You'll waste your life believing

in your paltry talent.

In 1882, the Chosun dynasty is ending.

The Koreans are rebelling against

foreign invasions and corrupt government.

The country is in decline. These were

the days of the artist Jang Seung-ub.

We've been expecting you.

Mr. Kaiura is Japanese.

He writes for the Hansung Daily.

I brought him here because he longs

to own one of your paintings.

I admire you.

Your paintings are sublime.

He hears you like good drink.

He brought this from Japan.

It's good.

Our diplomats there enjoy it.

Thank you for the wine.

But do you really want

to take back a painting

by a vulgar Korean

to the glorious empire of Japan?

Don't be so arrogant!

Many artists would die

for such recognition.

Mr. Kaiura genuinely

admires your work.

He knows you're a commoner.

He wonders how you paint so well.

My poor friend!

Genius shows, even in a baby!

Give me that!

Give me that drawing.

You snotnose brat! Get up!

- You there! What are you doing?

- Do you want to die? Filthy brat!

- Do you want to die? Filthy brat!

- I said stop!

He's the beggars' leader.

She's a girl who takes care of me...

like a younger brother.

He never stops hitting her, the beast!

He got her pregnant.

He treats her like dirt.

I did the drawing to comfort her.

He grabbed me.

Father! Seung-ub is running away

with my clothes!

Let him go. The rules of a noble

household are too strict for him

and he must have realized

we can't afford to feed him.

Where are your rolls of paper?

All sold out.

A delivery's due in two days.

We're out of stock.

If you want writing paper,

we have some Chinese.

I'll come back.

Master!

Is it me you're calling?

Aren't you master Kim from Hyoja village?

Don't you recognize me?

Once, by Chungye River,

you saved the life of a beggar boy.

Seung-ub? Is it you?

What brings you to

this suburban paper shop?

- I moved out here last summer.

- Seung-ub! Where are you?

Are those your paintings

on the wall?

Yes. I found work with a rotten boss

but I'm glad to have food.

Master, please accept my respects.

This boy is gifted.

His brushwork has such fire.

He may grow up to become

the great artist you longed to be.

Take him as your pupil.

Hold the brush as if

you had an egg in your palm.

Hold it tight with all five fingers.

From fingers to brush, from brush

to paper, your life force will flow.

First, lay out the "bone structure".

Every stroke, structure.

Next, the shading.

Shading brings distance

and gives objects their depth.

Three years later.

Is that you, Seung-ub?

After barely a year he had a stroke.

He was paralyzed.

I kept house and farmed for him.

I've come straight from his funeral.

He left me his flute.

We'll never be stirred

by his playing again. How sad...

The flute was all he left you?

He said every painter has to know

literature. Although he was ill,

he taught me the classics.

Now my eyes can see.

It's been so long.

I'd heard you were back from China.

Sorry I took so long to come.

Thanks to you, it all went well.

I bought this in China.

"The Book of the Measure of Qi".

The author is our own Hye-gang.

He's unknown here in his homeland.

We spurn the thoughts

of such a sage...

while he's admired abroad in China.

Such a pity.

What does he say in this book?

He explains the mysteries

of the flow of Qi,

how it irrigates our five senses

and determines the nation's strength.

That would be heresy here.

They'd censor it.

That will be our country's downfall.

Our ruling class must wake up to the

future. They're asleep. It's disastrous.

I'll share this precious gift

with my reform-minded friends.

Introduce yourself.

His name is Jang Seung-ub.

I think he has a god-given talent.

Please take him as your servant.

Show him original artworks

that will open his eyes.

What is it?

The Master's youngest sister.

Her frail health worries the family.

Don't go near her.

She's a good,

sweet-natured woman

but she's always been ill

with an unknown disease.

This precious art album comes

from the Chinese royal family.

This was painted by Zhao Gan

during the Sung dynasty.

He worked at Nanjing

with Tung Yuan.

This is by Ma He-zhi,

of the Hangzhou school.

On your knees, idler!

Everybody works hard here.

You too!

Fancy yourself as a painter,

you upstart?

- All you want is a full belly.

- Stop it! Let me go!

It's so real, it could tear

through the paper and fly off.

You're hurt.

Your hand, too.

Such a precious hand...

Hail to the groom!

Hail to the bride!

Come here, my boy!

I've never shown anyone

this painting by Chen Jia-yan.

How did you contrive to copy it?

I looked at it once... in secret.

I'm harboring a thief in my home.

Compare the two.

Can you tell which is the original?

He painted it after looking at it once.

Only the seal is missing.

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