In the Baek household, learning is sacred. Noa’s devotion to his education is not just a point of pride but a priority for the family, who makes sure he can keep studying in the country with limited resources and no access to school; even Koh Hansu is part of the effort, bringing newspapers for his dutiful, unsuspecting son to study.
But scholarship isn’t the only kind of learning in evidence at the farm. In “Chapter Twelve,” people learn mostly about one another. Noa gets to know a potential friend; Sunja learns how to drive; Yangjin learns the rhythms of a new country and a new home. Naomi learns about Solomon and vice versa; Kim and Kyunghee take one step further in their mutual knowledge. It’s not incidental that this is the first episode in which we see Sunja cry of happiness and relief rather than despair. It’s as if, in a rare moment, the Baek family has the opportunity to expand — to spread out in togetherness around a dinner table.
Also happily, a lot of kissing goes on this week. Still, because this is Pachinko, my guy Noa cannot catch a break. Part of being known, Hansu might be starting to realize, means being seen even in your shortcomings.
1945
“Chapter Twelve” opens on Mozasu sharpening the bamboo spear he brought from home, still preparing for the arrival of the Americans. This is the first episode this season that doesn’t use title cards to orient the viewer in time, which I’m taking to mean there hasn’t been a significant time jump between last week’s events and this week’s. Kim comes to sit with Mozasu and asks after Noa, who is being a classic big brother and ignoring his younger sibling to hang out with his new friend. Mozasu complains that besides being no fun — all he does is read boring books — Noa gets to be first in everything. Being the eldest, Kim explains, comes with a burden and a responsibility: Noa is the man of the house, which means the pressure is on him to take care of his family. Mozasu doesn’t look convinced.
Noa’s new friend, “a jerk” in Mozasu’s estimation, is the chicken thief and Noa’s erstwhile bully. Seen from below against a cotton-candy sky, wearing matching yellows and blues, the boys look — I mean this as a compliment — as though they’re in a poster for a coming-of-age indie movie. Noa’s friend, like Mozasu, wouldn’t mind living out in the country forever; also like Mozasu, he hates school. His father, who pressures him to be the best, hits him with both fists when he finds out his son is ranked behind Noa, a Korean. It strikes Noa that his former bully’s resentment could’ve been born out of something that had nothing to do with him; it surprises him even more to realize he has a friend. The kid apologizes to Noa, who unsurprisingly accepts it with sweetness and grace. They shake hands on their new friendship and go look at some larvae together.
Meanwhile, it’s pretty eventful at the fields. Kyunghee is being scolded by the foreman for an unknown reason, which Kim does not like to see. But he’ll get his revenge on the foreman’s cruelty in time: When he goes to get some fertilizer from the truck, he finds chicken feathers, which he will use as leverage later. Work is interrupted all around when Hansu arrives in a car and out of it steps a shrunken, graying Yangjin, Sunja’s mother. Sunja runs toward her mother, sobbing in relief at being together again. Even tough guy Hansu can’t hide his emotion seeing them embrace.
Later that day, the boys fuss around their grandmother at the dinner table. The adventurous Mozasu wants to know everything about Yangjin’s journey — how big the boat was and if it had a sail. Yangjin tells them the journey was difficult and cramped, but the reality of the crossing doesn’t deter Mozasu from his dream of going to Africa, where he plans to see a lion just like the one he saw in his manga books. Yangjin looks pleased by her grandsons, and their chatting is easy, uninterrupted by awkwardness. When Mozasu doesn’t know the Korean word for lion, Yangjin tells the boys never to forget they’re Korean. Overhearing the conversation, Sunja looks concerned, though I’m not sure why. She seems to be comforted by Noa’s prayer and what looks to be a delicious soup made with a chicken Sunja slaughtered herself with the permission of the foreman for this special occasion. Even Hansu comes to sit with them. He, too, wants to sit at the family table, and so they do, a peaceful togetherness illuminating them with a holy glow.
After dinner, while Noa studies Japanese, Sunja goes on a walk to get some air and is found by Hansu, who is always suddenly driving up. He tells Sunja that he was looking for the foreman, and she takes the opportunity to thank him again for bringing her mother to the farm, acknowledging the effort he puts into making her life a little better. He offers to show her how to drive, and she hops in.
The roads on the farm’s property are long and wide enough that, at first, Hansu and Sunja don’t run into the several other pairs exploring in the pitch-black night. Noa’s friend takes him out to catch fireflies, and Kyunghee “runs into” Kim on her walk. Maybe it’s her own intentionality that scares her: When they talk about eventually returning to Korea, a desire they share, Kim tells her that with their return, he hopes her “sadness will be lifted.” He notices it in her eyes, and it oppresses him; he wishes he could do something to help. He realizes immediately that he has spoken one word too many. Terrified, Kyunghee scolds, “Just because we’ve shared some stories, do not presume a friendship.” Kyunghee! Indulge!
I’m not the only one hoping for some good old harmless indulgence. Sunja picks up on the driving until she sees a huge branch blocking the road and freaks out; Hansu takes the wheel and swerves it, which gets the car stuck in the mud. They push it together, and once they’ve succeeded in releasing it, Hansu kisses Sunja. She kisses back, stopping only when they hear a twig snapping. Noticing Sunja’s instant regret, Hansu makes a not-unreasonable argument: “You deserve some happiness as well. You don’t have to give everything up!” Hansu is encouraging Sunja to cede, for once, to her feelings and her spirit. It’s maddening that he can be right about this but so wrong in how he goes about it — he does still have a second family, and no matter how much he does for Sunja, she will always be in the background rather than the priority of his life.
The foreman is unlucky to be found by Hansu, who is infuriated not only with him but with himself. The chicken feathers in his truck could’ve only come from the chickens he’d been stealing from Hansu, who won’t accept being treated like a fool; he beats the living daylights out of the foreman. Noa and his friend follow the noise and watch the scene from behind some bushes, startled. Noa can’t take it — he runs off, and his friend calls out to him. When Hansu turns around at the sound of his son’s name, he looks surprised, almost as if he has just come to and realized what he was doing. He looks hurt, vulnerable for once, towering over the foreman’s limp body on the ground. Noa has been let down or hurt by every father figure he’s ever had; first it was Pastor Hu, then Isak’s death, Yoseb’s move, and now this. Meanwhile, at home, Sunja is being comforted by her mother, who knows instinctively that Hansu is Noa’s father. She warns Sunja that Noa must never know, but Sunja tells her not to worry; the secret is well kept. Yangjin washes her daughter’s hair.
Morning dawns on the day of the rice harvest, the start of a new cycle. Giving water to the boys and to the workers, Kyunghee brushes her fingers on Kim’s briefly — her way of demonstrating affection, maybe even apologizing for her outburst. At night, the workers all release lanterns down the river in a ceremony to celebrate those who have died and guide them to the spirit world. It seems like a nice denouement to what was a very emotional week for most members of the family, but they wake up in the middle of the night to a ringing sound. The rice shed, where all of the harvest was stored, has caught on fire. Kyunghee is inconsolable; she doesn’t know how she can bear this. She runs off into the woods in the middle of their cleanup, and Kim follows her. “Did I ask you to follow me?” she snaps at him. However, the stakes are too high for Kim and his love for Kyunghee. Unlike her, he doesn’t believe in the afterlife; this is all he’s got. He needs to seize his life without regrets. When he holds Kyunghee, she looks relieved. Finally, they kiss (!).
1989
In Osaka, Sunja is asleep in front of the television. She wakes up with a startle and calls Solomon, leaving a concerned message on his machine. As if she has just remembered something or gotten an idea, she starts rounding up several Tupperware containers. The idea was that if her grandson doesn’t answer her calls, she would take matters into her own hands and show up, Tupperware in tow, at Solomon’s apartment in Tokyo.
It takes him by surprise: He was expecting Naomi. After scolding him for the mess in his apartment, Sunja explains she had to come see him right away after she had a dream. Before she can explain more, the doorbell rings. Naomi holds up a paper to Solomon’s face: The bones buried underneath the Korean landowner’s plot have made the news. He awkwardly introduces Naomi to Sunja, who insists Naomi should stay for dinner, particularly since she brought all this food and Naomi is so skinny. I have never known anyone to have the courage to argue with a grandmother who thinks you’re too skinny, so Naomi has no choice but to come in. She helps Sunja with chopping the zucchini, but she’s not great at it. Sunja can tell immediately, from her delicate hands, that she’s not too used to the kitchen. When she was a kid, Naomi used to help make dinner while waiting for a father who rarely came home. Perhaps noticing that Sunja is strict with her grandson, Naomi tells her how touching it was when he took a stand at Shiffley’s, even if everyone thought he was wrong; it was that old Baek courage flaring up. Sunja softens. She’s proud.
While Sunja and Naomi have this heart-to-heart, Solomon is out on the balcony talking with Tom on the phone. What Solomon had predicted happened: Colton is pulling out of the deal in light of the news of the buried bones in the land. It’s up to Tom now to tell Abe that this was all by Solomon’s design, and Solomon seems confident that he’s prepared for the fallout. When he joins Sunja and Naomi, he doesn’t even look rattled. They enjoy their meal; Naomi loves the food. She tells Sunja and Solomon about her job; she’s been working on a deal to take a company public, which she hopes will catapult her career to the next level. Sunja doesn’t know much about the nitty-gritty of stock trading, but she knows hard work, and she knows pride. She also knows to be slightly suspicious when Solomon swears he didn’t take advantage of the Korean landowner by convincing her to finally sell, which is brand new information to Sunja.
Just as she once heard her own mother tell her grandsons, Sunja asks Solomon not to forget who he is. She doesn’t want him to lie to her; he should just be honest with himself. Solomon promises to try, and it’s enough for Sunja — she goes up to her room, where, looking out at Tokyo’s evening lights, she calls Kato-san, the man with the suspenders from the supermarket. She surprises even herself with the time of her call, but Kato is as cheerful as ever. He’s happy to hear from her. She tells him a little bit about her worries for Solomon and how there’s nothing she can do about the fact that he likes a Japanese girl. At their old age, Kato advises, they have to pick their battles; they have earned that right.
Naomi and Solomon’s date ends tenderly and successfully. I’m really starting to root for those two, though I’m sure Solomon will find a way to create a huge unnecessary problem in no time.
Pinball Thoughts
• I find some of the music cues in this show very distracting. When Yangjin and Sunja reunite, for example, the moment has enough weight to evoke full emotional resonance without the violins and the piano.
• I’ve been noticing that much of what happens in the countryside in Pachinko is the show’s own material; Noa never sees Hansu beating the foreman in the book, for example. I like it when shows do this, and overall I’m buying the direction in which the writers are taking the characters.