There was a time in my life when wrestling was more important to me than film or football. Before my discovery of Mike Leigh, or the emergence of Gareth Bale, there was Rob Van Dam. Before The Apartment moved me to tears, or Lucas Moura set me into delirium, there was the thrill of watching Jeff Hardy jumping off a twenty foot ladder. Wrestling is an often misunderstood sport. It is an unparalleled combination of athleticism, pantomime and soap opera which is the obsession of millions around the world and also dismissed and scoffed at by more. Considering that film and wrestling, as a medium, have plenty in common, it’s surprising how few good wrestling films have been made. The Wrestler (2009) and The Iron Claw (2023) are the two standouts, both of which explore the grim reality of wrestling and the mental and physical toll it takes on the performer. Kim Jee-woon’s (A Bittersweet Life & I Saw The Devil) sophomore feature The Foul King (2000), available for the first time in the UK and Ireland thanks to Blue Finch Films, takes a tonally different approach.
Lim Dae-ho (Song Kang-ho) is an incompetent bank clerk who faces the wrath of his boss, the ire of his father and never stands up for himself. One night, after unsuccessfully confronting a gang of thugs, he visits the local wrestling gym and asks to be trained as a wrestler. Dae-ho used to idolise Ultra Tiger Mask, a villainous wrestler who was a notorious cheat and wants to follow in his footsteps. Dae-ho is initially rejected from the gym, but he eventually wins them over through his grit and determination, adopting the persona of ‘The Foul King’, whose gimmick is to only ever win by cheating. Dae-ho hides his identity by wearing a mask, but finds his new-found confidence in the ring blending into his personal life as begins to assert himself at work. Whereas Dae-ho cuts a lonely figure, he finds kinship within the wrestling gym, befriending Jang (Jang Jin-young) and wannabe wrestler Tae Baeksan (Park Sang-myeon). Dae-ho gains popularity as ‘The Foul King’ and books a big match against one of Korea’s biggest wrestling stars Yu-Bi-Ho, who cockily goes off script and savagely attacks Dae-Ho and removes his mask, which causes Dae-Ho to snap. The Foul King ends in particularly violent fashion in a full-throttle wrestling that is full of blood, sweat and tears.
Kim Jee-woon’s comedy can be broad and outrageous, so it’s important that Song Kang-ho keeps us grounded throughout for the emotional beats to resonate. What I found particularly poignant was watching a man find his calling and his people.
The Foul King joyfully mixes the absurd and the ultra-violent to explore the ridiculousness of wrestling and the transforming effect that performance can have on your life. After fantasising about himself as Elvis (or WWF’s The Honkey Tonk Man), singing in a wrestling ring and losing a fight to his boss, Dae-ho’s inability to engage in the wrestling performed at the gym comes from their lack of character. Dae-ho understands the performative element of wrestling and of engaging a crowd. He is able to shoot to local stardom because he crafts an identifiable villain who people love to hate, which creates a stark contrast to the abuse he gets in his normal life. By embracing the pantomime element of wrestling, and leaning into the iconography of the wrestling mask, Dae-ho creates a platform for himself to learn how to deal with hostile reactions within and outside the ring and take matters into his own hands. Likewise, his adoption of the hardcore elements of wrestling (using a fork as a weapon) and being involved in very physical, bloody matches gives him newfound confidence to stand up for himself.
The Foul King is a whacky, bloody, in-your-face film, which consequently makes the quieter moments striking. Song Kang-ho has been a staple on our screens for more than two decades and it’s wonderful to have the opportunity to discover one of his early performances. Kim Jee-woon’s sense of comedy can be broad and outrageous, so it’s important that Song Kang-ho keeps us grounded throughout for the emotional beats to resonate. What I found particularly poignant was watching a man find his calling and his people. As Dae-ho recovers in hospital at the end of the film, his ragtag group of wrestling misfits friends visit him and his personal life finally feels less empty. This part of the film really spoke to me. When I was younger I found refuge on an internet wrestling forum in order to share my passion with other people. Funnily enough, as wrestling became less a part of my life, the people from that forum became more a part of it. I have cried with them at weddings and cried with them at a funeral. They are friends for life. The Foul King understands the escapism and lasting kinship this ridiculous sport can provide. The film is entertaining, surprisingly heartfelt and worthy of rediscovery.
The Foul King is out now on Digital Platforms via Blue Finch Films
