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Ripe Town Ep. 1 visuals: Under the cover of light
I am absolutely LOVING the historical crime drama Ripe Town. It's moody, nicely paced, and has really solid acting. The show reminds me of a grimmer, more ruminative A League of Nobleman, and its restrained but equally masterful cinematography caught my eye from the first scene. If you're looking for a prestige drama, this is it.
I wanted to share some of the cinematography choices the show makes in its first episode that help set the perfect tone for a crime drama. Film nerds, there are so many goodies in this show.
Under the cover of light
What a great cold open.
The show drops us (literally) in a farm field with our main character, Qu Sangeng, and his partner, Gao Shicong. They are bailiffs who have been sent out into the fields to investigate the mysterious appearance of a scarecrow, and they soon discover it's the dead body of Sangeng's mentor, Captain Leng.
(Side Note: There's something intriguing about the way the camera lingers on this sea of gold as it swallows and propels Sangeng and Shicong toward the scarecrow. It's almost like the field is its own character with its own memories. I don't think this will be the last time the plot returns us to this location.)
We learn at the coroner's that Captain Leng had not only been strangled but also pierced with a wooden rod bearing the Confucian quote "My principle is unified." This inscription paired with the theatricality of the body's staging (in broad daylight, in an open field) lends a deeper meaning to the murder. As an officer of the law, it is Captain Leng's duty to uphold justice, so why else would the murderer distort a classic work of philosophy if not to indict Leng of some moral malpractice?
And to a certain extent, we can understand that indictment by how the show portrays Captain Leng and Sangeng's colleagues in the criminal court system. Just look at how these officials are introduced:
They're filmed in darkness or shadow, the use of low-key lighting giving each a suspicious air. The strategic use of props further reinforces our first impression of them as sinister, incompetent, and corrupt men.
It makes you think about what other crimes have been committed in these rooms under the guise of justice.
The virtuous (but unstable) lone cop
Given how the show portrays the police and court system, it's notable how our main character, Sangeng, is often blocked in relation to them. As a bailiff, Sangeng is intelligent and principled. When we look at the composition of his scenes with men in power, he is often positioned towards the other end of the screen with the vertical lines of beams or doors physically demarcating his separation from them. He doesn't share their ethics nor does he tolerate their power plays.
And yet in Episode 2, we see the usually stoic Sangeng display a startling amount of violence and abuse of power, similar to a colleague he had criticized for the same behavior during this episode. I'm curious to see if and how this investigation continues to unravel him.
If these walls could speak
Ok, my favorite part of this show's cinematography is its use of dirty framing. Look at these gorgeous shots:
Dirtying the frame is when the camera crew uses things like architecture, objects, or even people in the foreground to add depth to a shot. Ripe Town constantly uses windows, plants, etc. to frame our characters as they discuss the case, which is such a smart way of upping the show's creepy factor. It feels like there is always someone (possibly the killer?) watching from beyond the frame
But maybe even cooler is the constant use of background action:
Check out how often there are people in the background near enough to our main characters to observe but far enough to not be intrusive (or helpful). Throughout Episode 1, we see farmers, bailiffs, and other workers stand around as Sangeng works the case. Like with the dirty framing, there's a sense of surveillance but this time from the townspeople as a whole. It's the classic small-town mystery trope where you suspect everyone knows more than they let on.
I wonder if this notion of surveillance will become one of the show’s major themes: are people watching because they’re trying to protect a secret or are they watching because they're hoping someone will reveal and take accountability for those secrets?
Together, these filming techniques create a fascinating world where murder is committed during the day and secrets are revealed in the dark. I can't wait to see how the story continues to deliver more and more interesting visuals as its mysterious plot unfolds.
Ripe Town Ep. 12 visuals: The ghost of one's conscience
“Conscience is such a thing. If you want to sell it, it won’t sell for much. But if you want to keep it, then it is expensive." -Captain Leng
Goddamn, Ripe Town has some of the best cinematography I've seen on tv in YEARS. The show's meditations on (in)justice are beautifully rendered through its visual storytelling with not one frame wasted.
The final episode is no exception. As the show progresses, our main character, Qu Sangeng, becomes increasingly disillusioned with the justice system he has been charged to uphold. Like the serial killer he is hunting, Sangeng is caught between wanting to avenge the murder of his mentor and seeking justice in a system that is inherently unequal and unjust. What struck me about the finale was the way it evokes this tension through its symbolic representation of Judge Song, Sangeng’s superior. Even when the actor isn't on screen, Judge Song's character serves as a ghost who haunts Sangeng's conscience.
But before we dive into all that, I want to give a shoutout to the uncredited star of Ripe Town: this donkey, a symbol of Sangeng's unraveling sense of ethics.
I thought it was really clever of the show to bookend Sangeng's slow descent towards revenge with these two scenes from Episode 2 and Episode 11.
In the first scene, Sangeng meets his mentor, Captain Leng, in the forest with some money Captain Leng had asked for (possibly a bribe from the local crime lords?). Captain Leng is surprised Sangeng got him the money when he usually avoids doing so, which leads Sangeng to ask whether it's possible to "catch the bad guys" while keeping his conscience intact. It's clear from their conversation that Sangeng is principled and idealistic but his sense of loyalty could lead him to compromise those principles.
We eventually see this happen in the later part of the show. After a skirmish with the killer, Sangeng tracks down the donkey in a marsh and finds an important clue about the killer's identity. Not only does Sangeng hide this clue from the other bailiffs and Judge Song, but he also decides to collude with another mass murderer to dispose of the killer and avenge Captain Leng.
He has sold his conscious to get the "bad guy."
And yet Sangeng has the ability to choose an alternative path, and that moral decision is symbolically represented by Judge Song.
Despite being betrayed by the judicial system and living a life of bitterness and remorse, Judge Song still chooses to uphold justice for those similarly ensnared in the system. As the killer notes, "those who cannot serve the people, cannot serve the spirits”, and so Judge Song uses the law to punish the guilty regardless of their status. Every day, he fights against the urge to become the monster the judicial system and society tried to make him out to be.
In moments where Sangeng seems to deviate from a more righteous path, we always see Judge Song hovering in the background.
Even when he's not in the scene, his judge's chair and interrogation platform is placed front and center as an anchor. He is the show's moral compass even in death.
Side Note: One of my favorite scenes of this episode (and really the entire show) is when Sangeng visits the coroner's after his revenge plot accidentally leads to the death of Judge Song and other colleagues.
The first time we visited the coroner's in Episode 1, there was one slab for Captain Leng's body. But now, after Sangeng's misguided plan has failed, there are nine. Surrounded by the unnecessary death his desire for revenge caused, Sangeng breaks down.
And how ironic it is that the killer he was hunting is the one who is respectfully observing him put Judge Song's body to rest.
As Sangeng later confesses his misdeeds to his partner, we once again see Judge Song's chair and interrogation platform gently illuminated in the dark. No one gets true relief in this justice system, neither the ones who sell their conscience out of greed and desperation nor the ones who suffer with it still intact. And yet there is always the choice to hold a light up to injustice.