SYNOPSIS

Swing Days: Code Name A is a South Korean original musical blending espionage, romance, and personal sacrifice, inspired by the real-life Napko Project — a 1945 covert U.S. operation that trained Korean operatives to aid in the nation’s fight for independence.

Yoo Il-hyung, a successful Korean businessman in America, secretly donates funds to the independence movement. As a child in Korea, he shared carefree days and swing rides with his close friends Man-yong and Yasuo — the latter born to Governor-General Kondo and a Korean mother. Though once close, Yasuo grew up striving to be the “perfect Japanese,” seeking approval from a father who never fully acknowledged him.

Years later in Shanghai, Il-hyung hosts a lavish business party where independence fighter Veronica and a young boy named Noah burst in, pursued by Yasuo, now a strict Japanese military officer. Il-hyung cleverly helps them escape. However, a tragic misunderstanding and Veronica’s death compel him to take a more direct role in the resistance.

Il-hyung becomes an OSS (Office of Strategic Services, the U.S. wartime intelligence agency and forerunner of the CIA) spy and returns to Korea, founding a pharmaceutical company as a cover for his mission. Governor-General Kondo, recognizing Il-hyung’s business success, seeks to manipulate him into producing drugs supposedly meant to relieve soldiers’ pain — but secretly intended for kamikaze pilots in a planned assault on Hawaii. Kondo threatens to bankrupt Il-hyung’s company through oppressive taxes if he refuses.

As Il-hyung uncovers the truth, he is forced to choose between protecting his business and his wife Mary — a compassionate Chinese-American doctor — or risking everything to fight for Korea’s freedom.

Beside him stand his loyal childhood friend Man-yong, his hidden American ally Pearl Buck, and the memories of Veronica’s sacrifice. Yasuo, still conflicted by his heritage and loyalties, shadows Il-hyung’s every move. Though Il-hyung prepares for a dangerous covert operation, the end of World War II halts the mission before it can be launched. The story closes on his determined decision to act as Agent A, leaving behind personal safety and loved ones for the cause of independence.


REVIEW

I attended Swing Days in January 2025 and was reminded once again how far Korean musical staging has come. The Shanghai party scene was flamboyant, featuring a clever set piece that concealed Veronica and her son. The three childhood friends — Yoo Il-hyung, Yasuo, and Man-yong — sang together early in the show, foreshadowing the complex relationships and conflicts to come. The moment of Veronica’s death was staged symbolically, using background lighting without explicit violence. This incident became the turning point that pushed Yoo to commit fully to Korea’s independence movement. He became an OSS agent (Office of Strategic Services, the U.S. wartime intelligence agency and forerunner of the CIA) and founded a pharmaceutical company in Korea, brokering a deal with Pearl Buck (a fictional character likely named in homage to the American writer): he would provide intelligence, and the OSS would protect him.

Yoo’s company thrived by publicly donating to Japanese authorities while secretly supporting Korean resistance fighters. Veronica’s spirit haunted him, urging him to act even more decisively against Japanese military aggression. The prologue opened with a grand instrumental featuring percussion, followed by the vibrant opening number “Mr. Gambler,” performed by Yoo, Man-yong, and the ensemble. A large portion of the musical numbers had already been featured in press releases and online videos, allowing audiences to preview much of the show’s musical style before attending.

As the plot deepened, Yoo was coerced into producing opioids for wounded Japanese soldiers. Mary, a compassionate Chinese-American doctor and Yoo’s girlfriend, persuaded him to comply, arguing that even enemy soldiers — many just boys — deserved relief from pain. But Yoo soon discovered the drugs were being used for kamikaze pilots preparing for suicide missions. The song “I Can’t Stop (멈출 수 없어)” expressed his turmoil with powerful emotion. As the Japanese planned an invasion of Hawaii, communication between Korea and the U.S. became unreliable. Yoo devised a daring plan: to use his own wedding ceremony in the U.S. as cover to personally deliver critical intelligence. This plotline culminated in the Act II number “Perfect Wedding,” blending personal sacrifice with covert operations.

The tension between Yoo and Yasuo reached its peak as they confronted their shared past and present, reminiscing about their old swing set. Yoo later learned that Veronica’s son Noah had been the first Korean boy infiltrated into Japan under the Napko project. A vibrant swing dance sequence followed, with Veronica performing in full 1940s swing costume — a highlight of the production’s visual flair. Yasuo, despite his long struggle to embody the perfect Japanese soldier, ultimately chose to protect Yoo and was killed in the process. The musical closed with Yoo’s departure, embracing his identity as Agent A and continuing the fight for Korea’s liberation.

The story was solid and successfully adapted complex historical material into a compelling narrative. However, the ending felt somewhat deflated. Because the plot was grounded in the real life of Yoo Il-hyung (Ilhan New), founder of Yuhan Pharmaceutical Company, who lived a long and prosperous life, the production understandably avoided a tragic conclusion. Yet musicals often benefit from a lingering emotional impact. The finale, while historically accurate, lacked that dramatic weight. I wondered whether expanding Noah’s role might have added deeper emotional resonance. His perspective could have embodied the cost of the adults’ choices and provided the resolution the main plot could not fully achieve. However, such a change might also have risked shifting focus away from Yoo’s central arc.

The songs were good — not overwhelmingly memorable but solid and appropriate for the production. Korean musicals have traditionally faced challenges in creating standout scores, but recent years have shown improvement. The staging, however, was particularly strong. Korean productions now excel at technical execution, with designers skillfully transforming creative concepts into sophisticated stage realities. The growth of Korea’s live entertainment industry, including both musical theater and K-pop concerts, has clearly advanced staging technology and creative design.

Among the performances, Shin Sung-rok (Yoo Il-hyung) delivered a strong portrayal with confident vocal control. Ha Do-kwon (Man-yong) impressed with his deep bass voice and convincing acting. His North Korean accent sounded authentic, even if I could not verify every nuance. Kim Gun-woo (Yasuo) stood out in particular. He maintained a soldier’s poise, sang well, and conveyed Yasuo’s inner conflict with sincerity. His moments of dismay were especially affecting. Kim Ryeo-won (Veronica) gave a heartfelt performance, balancing Veronica’s resolve with vulnerability.

Though I have chosen not to detail every musical number, as many are available online, the overall experience was satisfying. The staging was excellent, the performances compelling, and the story — though constrained by historical fact — meaningful. The ending may not have delivered the emotional impact I had hoped for, but it honored Yoo Il-hyung’s legacy and highlighted the personal sacrifices behind Korea’s fight for independence.