Recently finished viewing an Asian 21-ep revenge series, hoping for something more like The Count of Monte Cristo or City Hunter, but ending up with Shakespearean soap-opera. I nearly didn’t finish it. However, I wanted to see if the story would remain true to itself, and it mostly did. The fatal flaws necessary for a tragedy were present in most of the characters, and justice — of a kind — was meted out.
Shown but never stated: All the evil could have been avoided if the abusive father/husband had been in better control of his words and actions and had loved his wife.
Even though he was falsely accused of murdering an employee, the abusive character set in motion events that would boomerang thirty years later.
Below are the order of events (although not the order of revelation in the story):
1) although innocent of the alleged crimes, the husband was abusive and distrusting;
2) while she was kicked out of the house, the wife sought solace elsewhere and had a secret son she never acknowledged, but who grew up to take his revenge on her;
3) she tries to cover the truth by harming an employee, and he and his wife die;
4) the dead employee’s eldest daughter grows up in hardship and seeks revenge;
5) as adults, the secret son and the vengeful daughter meet and plot against the abusive man’s family;
6) amid their plotting, they become lovers, and yet the secret son allows the vengeful daughter to marry his innocent, unwitting half-brother — and that’s not yet the full measure of twistedness, because there’s more conning and thieving and murderousness to come.
Viewers had to suspend a great deal of reality, too, because the half-brother — thought to be killed in a fire (started by his wife) — comes back after extensive plastic surgery and sets himself up as a prosperous Korean-American businessman so he can revenge himself on her and take back the businesses and the properties she has finagled away from his family. (Oh, the soap opera!)
But what sorta saved this story is the ending: Although there was much back-and-forth one-upmanship regarding secrets and evidence of crimes, eventually the characters came to see the full measure of what their revenge and lies had wrought.
Had the father not been abusive, had the mother simply told the truth, had the young victims gone to the police rather than trying to solve it themselves…
In the end, watching from a distance as his half-brother (now accepted into the family) places flowers on the grave of the vengeful daughter, her husband — no longer unwitting or innocent — muses on what would have happened if everyone had stopped striving, had stopped hitting back, and had let God handle the matter of justice.
If they had been wiser, more patient, more forgiving, kinder, stronger, there would have been no story.
At least not that story.
Instead, it might have been about how a woman and her son survive and thrive away from the abuser. It might have been how a husband and wife come to terms with their wrongdoings and make amends or learn how to live with a new normal. It could have been about a son who grows up so fearful of becoming like his father that he never stands up for himself lest be become an abuser, and must learn there is a proper time to fight back. It could have been the redemptive story of a man who hits rock-bottom, losing everyone and everything he loved because he wouldn’t control his words or his fists, but then realizing he was the maker of his own darkness and climbing back toward the light.
It could have been any kind of story but revenge.
But character shapes story.
What kind of life are you writing? What choices are you making? What motivates you? What — and whom — do you love, fear, hate? Where, ultimately, will your story end?
The television series referenced above, in case you would like to watch it despite the spoilers:
Temptation of an Angel (2009)