‘Pachinko’ Review: Season 2 Is a Stunning Family Drama That Honors the Joys and Sorrows of Sacrifice
“Pachinko” has always asked a lot of its audience, but Season 2 asks even more. Right from the start, there’s a leap so massive, many shows would’ve never considered requesting it to begin with: I’m writing, of course, of the new opening title sequence. In general, such a switch isn’t unheard of. “The Leftovers” did it — twice (kind of) — and those went over swimmingly. But Damon Lindelof decided to try out a new intro because the first was far from revered (and its arduous droning would’ve set the wrong tone for a playfully bizarre sophomore season). “Pachinko’s” original credits, meanwhile, are beloved! They’re awesome! They’re so gosh darn delightful they overcame the TV Academy’s indefensible neglect in every other category and earned “Pachinko” its only Emmy nomination (for Original Main Title Design)!
Season 1’s award-worthy credits sequence is more than just a snappy edit of The Grass Roots’ “Let’s Live for Today.” It also clarifies a key aspect of the narrative. The parlor setting invites characters separated by decades to dance together in a jubilant celebration. The song’s lyrics — “Don’t worry about tomorrow, live for today” — mirror that timeline-crunching vision, allowing these oft-burdened individuals to shake off their woes and find joy in the here and now. All together, the opening titles underline a thematic tenor that otherwise could’ve been lost amid plot points that play out like a series of unfortunate events. The song, the dancing, the vision — they all magnify the fleeting moments of bliss in day-to-day life, the happiness we can take for granted until it’s gone. They make “Pachinko” so much richer, fuller, and precious to those watching, and they remind us of as much during every episode.
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So to say goodbye to a spark that could bring all those good memories rushing back — that could energize a fan base that’s been waiting two-and-a-half years for a second season — well, that’s quite simply a risk most shows wouldn’t take. Not these days. But, like everything else in her immensely thoughtful and purposeful series, creator and showrunner Soo Hugh doesn’t shake things up for the hell of it. The new opening titles become their own focal point. They’re just as meaningful as the previous iteration, and they’re just as catchy. They will win you over. Maybe it takes half a season, maybe a little longer. For me, it was a shockingly quick two episodes.
Perhaps that’s because Season 2’s sequence keeps many of the same core components. The prelude of historical footage hued in the desaturated colors of the past gives way to the bright lights of an insulated present. The cast returns to the pachinko parlor to cut loose, footloose, smiling wide and stepping smoothly. The tunes are again provided by The Grass Roots… only now, it’s their 1969 hit, “I’d Wait a Million Years,” and the lyrics emphasize words like “lonely,” “desperately,” and “longing.” They paint a picture of hardship in order to accentuate the commitment the singer has to his loved ones. “I’d wait a million years / walk a million miles / cry a million tears […] just to have you near me.” They tell us what’s coming may feel less joyful, less romantic, less sweeping in its limitless possibilities, but that’s just getting older. That’s sacrifice. And the consequences of sacrifice are at the heart of “Pachinko.”
At times, Season 2 can feel like a million years, miles, and tears have passed since that cherished warmth was felt by anyone in the Baek family. World War II is well underway when the narrative picks up in 1945. Sunja (Minha Kim) is still selling kimchi in Osaka’s open markets, but food is growing scarcer by the day. Her brother-in-law, Yoseb (Junwoo Han), is working at a munitions plant in Nagasaki, away from his wife, Kyunghee (Jung Eun-chae), and Sunja’s two sons, Noa (Kang Hoon Kim) and Mozasu (Eunseong Kwan), who are both in school. Further isolating those who still live together, each character struggles with their own internal dilemmas, and each also faces regular discrimination as Koreans living in Japan (known now as Zainichi Koreans). Even Koh Hanso (Lee Minho), Noa’s estranged father who uses his illicit wealth to manipulate the needy family as he sees fit, is lonely. He yearns for the family denied to him by his past choices, just as he wrestles to convince himself that what he did was right.
Four decades later, Sunja is lonely yet again. Noa, who we know from Season 1 has been gone from her life for some time, remains an unspoken, mysterious absence. Mozasu (played as an adult by Soji Arai) and his franchise of pachinko parlors are fine, but he and Sunja’s happiness is stifled by concerns for his son, Solomon (Jin Ha). The American-educated businessman is slipping beyond their understanding, into a realm of greed and malice more familiar to Koh (whose fate in the ’80s is also unknown). After spurning his real estate client to protect an innocent homeowner last season, Solomon is on the outs with just about everyone in Tokyo. Abe (Yoshio Maki), his former client, has blacklisted him. Frustrated and desperate, Solomon concocts a plan to get back at his oppressor, but his actions are driven by cruel conviction, and his life loses the generosity of spirit that’s defined the Baeks for so long.
His storyline is also the weakest in Season 2. As Sunja, her sons, and their father’s arcs fittingly expand against the epic backdrop of war, Solomon’s scheme (and a budding romance with his former co-worker Naomi, played by “Shōgun’s” Anna Sawai) can’t help but feel paltry in comparison. That’s part of the point — “Pachinko” can barely feign interest, let alone greater meaning, in matters of money — but any dryness can tip the series’ calm, conflict-light stretches into sluggish redundancy.
Because “Pachinko” invites your attention instead of demanding it, the dense, patient, and understated adaptation of Min Jin Lee’s acclaimed novel doesn’t fit the modern entertainment landscape. It’s not rooted in I.P., or at least not the kind of blockbuster I.P. that plans for sequels and prequels before the original even airs. It’s not needy or plain. It doesn’t talk down to its viewers. Instead, it speaks in its own precise language: a dialogue mixing and blending Japanese and Korean languages conveyed via color-coded subtitles for English-speaking viewers. Visual language is equally exacting, like a Season 2 shot where Noa approaches his mother with a plan to support her — doing what she has done for him so many times already — and his image is reflected in a window pane positioned behind her, so he can literally have her back and hold her vision at the same time, even when they don’t end up seeing eye to eye.
Gorgeous and understated, these discreet yet unmissable connections also accrue between generations, and the show’s overlapping timelines develop their own sense of compelling, unified empathy. It shrinks the distance, in years lived and years felt, between people whose love for each other is their driving force. It steadily draws together Sunja’s life and family in the ’40s and ’50s and her life and family in the ’80s and onward. What we’re seeing isn’t a puzzle coming together, although there are secrets unveiled and extended in Season 2; what we’re seeing is a collapsing of the forces that separate us in order to better appreciate the ties that bind us together, across time and space, despite the tears and sustained by the laughter.
“Pachinko” Season 2 may spend the bulk of its time acknowledging how lonely it can feel to lose those you hold dear. But it never forgets what it means to have them near. Sacrifice sits at the root of Sunja’s saga. At times, it brings her closer to her family, but it can also alienate her and push others to alienate themselves. Should she live for today, or suffer for a better tomorrow? Finding an answer is no small hurdle, but it’s one “Pachinko” clears by recognizing what really matters is having the courage to ask the tough, even irresolvable questions.
Bring on Season 3.
Grade: B+
“Pachinko” Season 2 premieres Friday, August 23 on Apple TV+. New episodes will be released weekly through the finale on October 11.
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