Man on High Heels (2014) is an effective portrayal of cultural and collective discomfort surrounding male beauty. The film explores complex emotions—ranging from respect and desire to envy and contempt—toward men who possess aesthetically appealing appearances.
Man on High Heels had all the makings of a film with strong audience appeal. At the helm was Jang Jin, whose filmography already included Guns and Talks (2001) and Someone Special (2004). Jang is also the author of the stage play Welcome to Dongmakgol, which was adapted into a hugely successful film. As a creator and director, Jang demonstrated a masterful command of a unique comedic style that uncovers moments of happiness in the most unexpected places.
The film’s star added further promise. Cha Seung-won, a former fashion model turned actor, played the lead role. Known for characters that humorously undercut his fashion-model physique—like the less-than-perfect criminal in Jail Breakers (2002) and an elementary school teacher accepting petty bribes in My Teacher, Mr. Kim (2003)—Cha was cast as a police detective secretly planning a gender transition. This extraordinary storyline, paired with a high-profile actor and a renowned director, seemed poised for success.
Man on High Heels initially flopped at the box office, defying expectations of a noirish gangster film or a comedy that played to the strengths of its main actor and director. Instead, it was a thriller that delved into questions of male beauty. It opens with gang boss Heo recounting his encounter with Cha’s character, Detective Yoon, in a sauna. Heo recalls his awe at Yoon’s scars as the camera slowly pans from Yoon’s head down to his sculpted abdomen and thighs, barely covered by a white towel. Yoon’s body, lean and muscular, leans back on the sauna bench, unwittingly inviting a lingering gaze. His body lacks the traditionally masculine markers of aggression, with only the scars from his police work distinguishing him from the feminine ideal. Male beauty, a rarely explored theme in Korean cinema, takes centre stage here.
Male beauty in the film evokes anxiety and uncertainty, stirring sexual tension between men and disrupting male hierarchies built on status, wealth, and power.
The “solution” to this tension is to subsume it back into socially sanctioned roles and norms tied to accepted notions of sexuality. Yoon dreams of leaving his job to pursue gender transition, but he is constantly assigned new tasks that require him to perform traditional masculine duties. Thus, his body remains bound by societal expectations of male responsibility, unable to freely navigate the ambiguous spaces between cultural norms— spaces that could crack the rigidly ordered world of these men.
In the film’s final act, Yoon, dressed in an elegantly tailored white blouse and wide black pants with full makeup, is about to leave Korea for his gender-confirmation surgery. However, he returns to the scene of duty to rescue a young girl for whom he has been a steadfast guardian. At the entrance of the gang hideout, Yoon encounters a henchman of Heo’s younger brother, who hesitates, saying he can’t attack a woman. Yoon retorts, “Do you call this a woman?” This line expresses both self-denunciation and denial. It likely reflects the constant pressures pushing him back into normative roles. In this moment, Yoon’s body is reinserted into the framework of culturally constructed meanings and expectations.
Yoon’s final fight scene in Heo’s den is visually striking. Armed with 10-inch knives in both hands, he moves gracefully through rows of thugs like a butterfly. His mascara-smudged eyes, mixed with blood and sweat, glisten with excitement, subtly hinting at his resistance to being confined within conventional notions of masculinity or femininity.
Cha Seung-won, who managed the difficult feat of portraying a character both masculine and beautiful, remains active today. He stars in the popular variety show Three Meals a Day alongside his close friend and fellow actor Yoo Hae-jin, where they travel to remote locations to cook using local ingredients. Now in his fifties, Cha still moves elegantly and effortlessly around the kitchen, wielding a knife between the stove, chopping board, and fridge. Perhaps male beauty isn’t entirely gone—it’s just waiting for the right moment to reemerge.
