Film Review: Burning (2018)
South Korean director Lee Chang-dongโs new film Burning never really tells us anything. There are plenty of clues and conjecture, but we canโt know for sure because the picture is always incomplete. We think we know – in fact weโre sure of it – but how can we be certain? This determination may sound more like a negative, but I assure you it isnโt. Burning takes us on a journey with far-reaching implications about the male psyche and how masculine insecurities can disguise themselves as noble deeds.
Iโll get right to it. The mystery at the core of Burning is a device to explore toxic masculinity, entitlement, jealousy, and menโs desire to own women physically and emotionally. Itโs all very subtle and cleverly hidden within a dark mystery, but itโs there – written out between the lines. One day, roustabout and aspiring novelist Lee Jong-su (Yoo Ah-in) randomly runs into a former female schoolmate named Shin Hae-mi (Jeon Jong-seo). After the encounter, Jong-su, having clearly become infatuated with the beautiful young Hae-mi, agrees to feed her unseen cat while sheโs away on a trip to Africa. To his surprise upon her return, she has a new man with her – Ben (Steven Yeun), a handsome, rich playboy.
The seeds of a love triangle are sown, but thatโs not exactly how it plays out. The exact nature of the relationship between Hae-mi and Ben is never defined, and Jong-su never comes out and says heโs jealous – even though itโs easy to discern that he is. Nonetheless, the tension mounts. To complicate matters, Hae-mi might be a liar who makes things up to get a rise out of people, or to manipulate their emotions in some way. Again, her motivations, or whether sheโs even telling the truth, is never fully revealed. Thereโs so much to guess at itโs irresistible.
As the plot unfolds, characterizations begin to come into focus, but we still canโt be certain of anything. Regardless of the mystery that weโre certain weโre solving, questions of motivation are left to be deciphered. Does Jong-su act out of nobility or a feeling of entitlement towards Hae-mi? Are his actions in the filmโs thrilling climax born from a desire for justice or out of old-fashioned jealousy? The carefully placed yet ambiguous clues lead us to plausible conclusions about action, but the motivation is the real mystery.
The heart of this gripping tale is the three leads. Each embodies their characters but play them just off-kilter enough to give Burning a surreal or nightmarish bent. Thereโs a visual poetry at work that conjures up Tarkovsky and Antonioni, but also a literary facet with direct references and ties to F. Scott Fitzgerald and William Faulkner. This combination creates an enigmatic lyricism thatโs both thrilling and eerily calm at the same time. Watch the subtly of Benโs yawning or the ease with which Hai-mi tells stories and tell me what it means. What do Jong-suโs fantasies and actions in Hae-miโs bedroom mean beyond the obvious?
The pacing alone will keep many from embracing the magnitude of Burning, but I urge you to try all the same. There is only one thing in the film that we know happens, and it doesnโt come until the very end. When it hits us, it may not be completely unexpected, but itโs shocking nonetheless – and you may be left with more questions than you did before. But again, the real meaning of the film doesnโt lie in what happens, but in why it happens.
