Seo-jin Yoon’s Chorokbam is a difficult film to pin down. Its somber atmosphere feels much like a literal weight on the body, yet it never strays toward the kind of melodrama or convention one might expect from such a deep exploration of the monotony and tedium of middle-class family life. Bathed in dark green hues or otherwise accentuated by green surroundings or objects, Chorokbam is filled with overlooked omens and existential unease as its central family moves uncomfortably from day to day. As they do, Yoon trusts viewers to absorb the pressured, solemn tenor he’s created and relate to it as we see fit — something he makes very easy to do despite any differences in language or customs.
With clear influence from Japanese great Yasujirō Ozu both formally and thematically, Yoon’s unmoving camera hints at an entire unseen world just out of view and out of reach. His subjects seem entirely unaware of this world, possibly due to their economic and emotional hopelessness, but we know it exists, making Chorokbam that much more desolate and, sometimes, even unnerving. It takes a certain kind of movie fan to appreciate such a mournful and gloomy film, but if you count yourself among those who are fascinated by the existential nature of life’s ultimate banality, I urge you not to sleep on Chorokbam.
Originally published by ASHEVILLE MOVIES.
James is a writer, skateboarder, record collector, wrestling nerd, and tabletop gamer living with his family in Asheville, North Carolina. He is a member of the Southeastern Film Critics Association, the North Carolina Film Critics Association, and contributes to The Daily Orca, Razorcake Magazine, Mountain Xpress, and Asheville Movies.