The movie begins with So-young’s story. She was born in 1960, abandoned by her parents, and bounced from foster home to foster home until adulthood. She worked many jobs, including a bar near a university. A war veteran student walked in. The two fell in love, and So-young became pregnant.
They later learned that he had schizophrenia. He went to a psychiatric hospital, where he took his life.
So-young’s child, Dong-hyun, could not get citizenship in Korea without a father. So, So-young moves them to Canada.
Cut to 1990, when Dong-hyun starts first grade. He has a rough time as the teacher cannot pronounce his name, and the kids make fun of him, calling him Rice Boy.
At one point, he cannot take it anymore and punches one of his bullies. He is the only one punished.
Dong-hyun cries, but So-young tells him to suck it up.
A man is only allowed to cry three times in his life: when he's born, when his mother dies, and when his father dies. If you cry or show weakness to people, they will walk all over you.
We then jump to 1999, where he goes by David and has dyed his hair blonde.
Dong-hyun receives an assignment to do a family tree and learn more about his family. He asks his mother, but she is closed off.
She goes to the doctor to help with back pain but learns that she has pancreatic cancer.
After she tells Dong-hyun, she takes him to Korea and meets his father’s parents — his grandparents.
Barry Jenkins’ Moonlight inspired Anthony Shim. Shim wanted to highlight his Korean-Canadian upbringing.
The camera is fluid and active, moving in and around conversations. As the movie progresses, the camera moves more carefully but rarely totally still.
It allows for long single takes that don’t feel acrobatic or showy — they allow emotions to unfold organically.
The footage shot in Canada has a 4:3 ratio, transitioning to a widescreen format in Korea.
The soundtrack remains subdued until then, giving a powerful emotional hit when they arrive in Korea.
The soundtrack is gorgeous. I couldn’t stop feeling chills.
The Korean stuff is so heartwarming. Seeing how happy Dong-hyun is to meet his family brings such relief.
They reference The Ballad of Narayama, and it comes back around beautifully.
Love speaks in the details of this movie. I can’t articulate how, but I felt their presence within me. When something is this specific, it resonates.