The masterpiece recent drama by director Lee Hyeong-Sun, Money Flower is a slow burn toward annihilation--or victory? It pulses with the buttoned-up hatred, love, and need for revenge that motivates a mesmerizing Kang Pil-Joo (Jang Hyuk). Seething, smoldering, elegant, passionate, slow, sexy, the story unfolds like a piece of music (bolstered by the actual music--a transfixing score that ranges from effective piano, cello, and violin solos to raucous moments warning that SOMETHING is about to happen). Everything plays out in Jang Hyuk's eyes and the barely perceptible shifts in the set of his mouth. Take all the wild laughter in Fated to Love You and the "crazy dog" antics of Voice and imprison them in the erect carriage of Kang Pil Joo. They are pounding on him from the inside begging for release, but he never cracks. His mouth twitches--barely--his cheeks hold back ever manic character Jang Hyuk has ever played. And then there are his eyes. Always his eyes center screen. The eyes whose glare Mal-Ran has tragically misinterpreted, keeping Pil Joo by her side until it is too late. The deeply Korean but wildly universal story of a dysfunctional family, corporate greed, and blinding political ambition, Money Flower is almost Hitchcockian (Alfred, that is) in its twists and turns. And at the same time, it is a new kind of drama. A new kind of art form. And Jang Hyuk is at the top of his game.

The masterpiece recent drama by director Lee Hyeong-Sun, Money Flower is a slow burn toward annihilation (or victory?). It pulses with the buttoned-up hatred, love, and need for revenge that motivates a mesmerizing Kang Pil-Joo (Jang Hyuk). Seething, smoldering, elegant, passionate, slow, sexy, the story unfolds like a piece of music (bolstered by the actual music--a transfixing score that ranges from effective piano, cello, and violin solos to raucous moments warning that SOMETHING is about to happen). Everything plays out in Kang Pil-Joo's eyes and the barely perceptible shifts in the set of his mouth. Take all the wild laughter in Fated to Love You and the "crazy dog" antics of Voice and imprison them in the erect carriage of Kang Pil Joo. They are pounding on him from the inside begging for release, but he never cracks. His mouth twitches--barely--his cheeks hold back every manic character Jang Hyuk has ever played. And then there are his eyes. Always his eyes. Center screen. The eyes whose glare Mal-Ran has tragically misinterpreted, keeping Pil-Joo by her side until it is too late. The deeply Korean but wildly universal story of a dysfunctional family, corporate greed, and blinding political ambition, Money Flower is almost Hitchcockian (Alfred, that is) in its twists and turns. And at the same time, it is a new kind of drama. A new kind of art form. And Jang Hyuk is at the top of his game.