Notes on The First Slam Dunk (Spoilers)

Notes on The First Slam Dunk (Spoilers)

"The true power of sports lies in the fact that it is a story without a script."

Slam Dunk is generating a wave of repeat viewings in Korea right now. During my lunch break I saw the subtitled version at a theater near the office, and I noticed a significant number of men and women in their 30s and 40s — coworkers, seniors, juniors — sitting in the audience.

1. Back to the 1990s

Basketball's golden age in Korea was the 1990s. University basketball — defined by Yonsei and Korea University — produced idol-level stars: Seo Jang-hoon, Hyun Joo-yeop, Lee Sang-min, Kim Hoon (Yonsei), Kim Byeong-cheol, and Jeon Hee-cheol (Korea). The Basketball Festival (농구대잔치) — the equivalent of today's KBL — featured stars like Heo Jae, Kang Dong-hee, and Moon Kyung-eun at clubs including Kia, Samsung, and Hyundai.

Youngest photo of Seo Jang-hoon on the far left — an oddly young face.

In 1993–94, Yonsei became the first university team to win the Basketball Festival, defeating professional corporate teams (Seo Jang-hoon won MVP). The 1994–95 Festival drew more than 400,000 spectators. A basketball drama called Last Match, starring top stars of the era including Jang Dong-gun, Son Ji-chang, Lee Jong-won, and Lee Sang-ah, was produced — at its peak, it drew 48.6% ratings. Today's generation can catch a glimpse of that era's basketball fever through tvN's Reply series — in Reply 1994, the Basketball Festival was a major social backdrop, right alongside Seo Taiji and the Boys.

The First Slam Dunk, now showing, is based on the original manga Slam Dunk, which was serialized in Japan at around the same time. Inoue Takehiko's Slam Dunk ran in Korea's Soonyeon Champ magazine from 1992 to 1996 and was also published as a collected series. Despite Japanese pop culture being officially restricted in Korea at the time, Slam Dunk found its audience partly because it rode the wave of basketball's popularity and was embraced as a story of growth and perseverance.

In particular, the popularity of university basketball — which brought female fans pouring into arenas — helped Slam Dunk extend its reach to women as well as men. It became a manga that people of all ages called their "life work." The teenagers and twenty-somethings of the 90s are now in their 30s and 40s, walking into theaters with their children.

2. Why the Sannoh Match?

Slam Dunk fans each carry their own favorite scene in their hearts. The iconic moments and lines from the series have been endlessly produced and reproduced as memes in popular culture, consistently delivering the emotional impact of a sports growth story.

The Sannoh match is the climax where the greatest number of those iconic moments are concentrated. A few of the most memorable:

1. After the final buzzer-beater, the high-five between Seo Tae-woong and Kang Baek-ho (a scene that wrote itself into history)
2. Exhausted to the point of collapse, Jeong Dae-man's line: "I am Jeong Dae-man. A man who does not quit."
3. Coach An's famous line: "The moment you give up, the game is over."
4. In the flashback, Kang Baek-ho's line: "The left hand is just along for the ride."
5. And finally: "When was your era of glory, sir? When you were on the national team? Mine is right now!"

If Slam Dunk is a story of growth, Sannoh is the final boss — the opponent that realistically cannot be beaten. In the film, Ryota Miyagi's childhood flashbacks and other sequences repeatedly establish Sannoh's image as an invincible juggernaut. One regret: using the strongest possible storyline for The First Slam Dunk means that if a sequel is made — and I both want one and don't want one — what match would it cover?

3. Why Ryota Miyagi?

A character whose past was left largely unexplored in the original manga — Ryota Miyagi doesn't have many devoted fans. You could even argue he was used mainly as a supporting character to set up Jeong Dae-man's comeback arc. But he's also an appealing character, providing balance alongside Kang Baek-ho with a kind of lovable bumbling energy.

As many have noted, the title The First Slam Dunk most likely refers to the point guard position — traditionally numbered "1" in basketball. For reference: PG is 1, SG is 2, SF is 3, PF is 4, C is 5. The creator has also said he wanted to make a film from the perspective of the team's commander, the point guard. If this theory is right, the next film's protagonist will likely be Jeong Dae-man, the shooting guard.

In another reading, it could refer to the era of Ryota Miyagi — who will lead Buksan after Chae Chi-su graduates. The film includes a glimpse of Ryota playing professionally in the US (going up against a point guard who resembles Jeong Woo-seong). Considering all the compelling characters from rival high schools introduced in the manga, it would be exciting if the story continued into the winter selection tournament. (There's also the autumn national athletic meet — but given Kang Baek-ho's injury...)

Setting aside sequel speculation, and focusing only on Ryota's story as told in the film: his arc is primarily about overcoming the shadow of his older brother, who started playing basketball before him at age three and died. Two threads run through the story: the recovery of a family shattered by an eldest son's death, and Ryota's personal growth through the basketball that still carries his brother's ghost. As a talented but short guard at 168 cm, his role in giving Buksan both "speed" and "heart" makes for a denser, more intimate story than if the film had centered on the wall-breaking presences of Kang Baek-ho or Seo Tae-woong.

Taesub-ah...

4. The Silence and Its Resonance

In the original manga, the final 30 seconds of the Sannoh match are rendered in silence. The film preserves this — and in a theater, that silence elevates the audience's focus to its absolute peak. I think of film as an art form that maximizes synaesthetic immersion, and deliberately stripping away one of its core elements entirely is a thrilling act. (Silent films are a different case — they begin with an element removed, which is a different context entirely.)

This is essentially the same technique as using "unexpectedness" to amplify attention in storytelling — and in sports especially, there are moments when a suffocating stillness descends. The roar of the crowd seems to stop. Time holds its breath. It's a step above "sweaty palms." This silence exists.

Because these 30 seconds exist, the sound that returns after the buzzer doubles the impact — and iconic moments like the Kang Baek-ho and Seo Tae-woong high-five become possible.

After the film ended — with a bit more story than the manga fans might have expected, which satisfied — and the lights came up, I watched coworkers of various ages slowly stand and filter out of the theater. For a moment I forgot it was lunch hour and found myself thinking I needed to re-read the comics. Shortly after, a Slam Dunk pop-up store opened at The Hyundai in Seoul's Yeouido district. A former colleague told me with great conviction that he absolutely had to go. Me? I thought: not so much for myself, but someday I want to show Slam Dunk to my son, who's still young. Like the first time I bought him a soccer ball (and now he plays a little), I want to press a rough-skinned basketball into his hands and say, "You know, when your dad was little, there was this manga called Slam Dunk..." and talk his ear off about it.