Assassination

Set against the turbulent backdrop of Japanese colonial rule in the 1930s, Assassination chronicles an audacious covert plot orchestrated by the Korean Provisional Government in exile. Operative Yeom Seok-jin is tasked by resistance leaders Kim Gu and Kim Won-bong to assemble a specialized strike team to infiltrate Japanese-occupied Gyeongseong (modern-day Seoul). Their high-stakes mission is to eliminate two high-priority targets: General Kawaguchi Mamoru, commander of the Japanese forces in Korea, and Kang In-guk, an influential and unscrupulous Korean industrialist collaborating with the imperial regime.

To carry out the dangerous operation, Yeom recruits three imprisoned or exiled freedom fighters: Ahn Ok-yun, a deadly marksman serving with the Korean Independence Army in Manchuria; Chu Sang-ok, affectionately known as 'Big Gun', a boisterous gunslinger from the Sinheung Military Academy; and Hwang Deok-sam, an explosives specialist. Together, this makeshift squad is smuggled into Gyeongseong to prepare their ambush from a safehouse operating under the guise of the stylish Café Anemone.

However, the mission is fatally compromised from within before it even begins. Yeom Seok-jin secretly harbors dark loyalties and hires 'Hawaii Pistol', an enigmatic hitman for hire, along with his loyal partner 'Old Man', to hunt down and assassinate the three resistance operatives. As conflicting agendas, mistaken identities, and explosive shootouts collide in the heart of colonial Seoul, the characters are thrust into a deadly game of cat and mouse where the ultimate prize is national survival and personal redemption.

At its heart, Assassination explores the enduring moral imperative of resistance against systemic oppression, even in the face of near-certain futility. Director Choi Dong-hoon interrogates why ordinary men and women chose to sacrifice their lives for an abstract dream of freedom when survival and personal enrichment favored cowardice and collaboration. The film serves as a poignant reminder that even if individual violent acts could not instantly topple an imperial empire, the refusal to surrender kept the cultural soul and dignity of the nation alive. Concurrently, the narrative issues a biting critique of historical pragmatism and unpunished treachery, stressing that a nation cannot truly achieve justice until it honestly confronts the ghosts of its own opportunists and collaborators.

While widely celebrated as a stirring patriotic blockbuster, several critics interpret the film's climax as a deliberate critique of historical wish-fulfillment. The cathartic execution of Yeom Seok-jin in 1949 represents an idealized counter-history that contrasts sharply with reality, where the vast majority of real-life Korean collaborators retained wealth, administrative influence, and political power in post-war South Korea. Viewed through this lens, the film's triumphant final gunshot is not pure celebration, but a bitter, melancholic reminder of justice that never arrived in the real world.

Released in July 2015 to coincide with the 70th anniversary of Korea's Liberation Day (August 15), Assassination became a cultural phenomenon in South Korea, sparking passionate nationwide conversations regarding historical justice and national identity. The film brought renewed public scrutiny to the real-life historical failure of the Special Investigation Committee for Anti-National Activities (Banmin Teukwi), which was dismantled by the Syngman Rhee administration before pro-Japanese collaborators could face comprehensive legal punishment.

The film swept major national honors, taking home Best Film at both the 36th Blue Dragon Film Awards and the 52nd Baeksang Arts Awards. Moreover, it set a creative precedent for high-budget Korean period cinema, demonstrating that colonial-era settings—long regarded by local studios as commercial box-office risks—could yield sophisticated, critically acclaimed, and massively profitable cinematic blockbusters.

Audiences and critics praised Assassination for its breakneck pacing, opulent period set design, and masterful balance of comedy, espionage thrills, and emotional pathos. Gianna Jun's dual performance received universal acclaim, earning her Best Actress accolades for subverting conventional melodrama with cold, determined marksmanship. Ha Jung-woo and Lee Jung-jae were similarly singled out for delivering magnetic, morally textured turns.

Minor criticisms centered on its 140-minute runtime, occasional narrative coincidences—such as the sudden twin sister revelation—and the rapid tonal shifts between slapstick humor and grim colonial violence. Nevertheless, audience verdict was overwhelmingly celebratory, turning the film into one of the biggest commercial milestones in modern Korean cinema history.