Hirokazu Koreeda

Broker

22/02/23

Cameo Cinema, Edinburgh

In the rain-lashed city of Busan, prostitute Moon So-young (Ji-eun Lee) takes her recently born boy to a local church’s ‘baby box’ – a safe space where troubled parents can leave their newborns to be collected by orphanages. She’s unaware that a volunteer at the church, Ha Sang-hyun (Song Kang-ho), is running a lucrative sideline, occasionally kidnapping a child and selling it on the open market to young couples who are unable to have children of their own. He’s aided by his friend, Dong Soo (Gang Don-won), an orphan himself, and neither of them seem to have any qualms about what they’re doing. On the contrary, they have convinced themselves that it’s somehow noble.

However, when So-young has a change of heart and returns to the church to look for her child, she’s met by Dong Soo, who explains the situation, and, surprisingly, she decides to go along with their plan, the three of them sharing whatever money they make. They are blissfully unaware that their every move is under surveillance by two detectives, Su-jin (Bae Doona) and Lee (Lee Joo-young), who follow them as the trio set off across the country in a battered van to visit the various prospective buyers.

Japanese director Hirokazu Koreeda, working with cinematographer Hong Kyung-pyo, does a great job of capturing the atmosphere of various locations across Korea, from teeming cities to tranquil landscapes, but there’s a major flaw at the heart of this film, which presents Ha Sang-hu and Dong Soo as a couple of lovable misfits, who seem to see themselves as modern day Robin Hoods (a character in my latest novel Stand and Deliver labours under the same misconception, but this is only his self-assessment and it is shown to be wrong). In Broken, Song Kang-ho in particular – familiar to western audiences from the brilliant and infinitely superior Parasite – is just too downright likeable. Koreeda never seems to acknowledge that the character is doing something heinous and beyond excuse.

Furthermore, a couple of gangsters – who are leaning on Ha Sang-yun for protection money – must be two of the most unthreatening bad guys in movie history. As the story unfolds, it gradually builds to a supposed climax when the two detectives manage to persuade Moon So-young to wear a wire, so they can listen in on proceedings.

And then there’s a sudden conclusion that feels pat and – it must be said – somewhat unbelievable.

Broker has been the recipient of a clutch of incredible advance reviews, but the truth is that this is a muddled and unconvincing story, that seems to believe that contemporary audiences will be willing to ignore the problematic nature of the central characters’ actions. I for one, cannot and that’s an issue that shunts this film into the file labelled ‘D for disappointing’.

3.4 stars

Philip Caveney

The Truth

12/05/20

Curzon Home Cinema

Hirokazu Koreeda’s first film outside his native Japan is an elegant French affair, a story about the tensions between mothers and daughters, fiction and truth, acting and living. Fabienne (Catherine Deneuve) is a celebrated actress, whose memoir – entitled La Vérité – has just been published. There’s an initial print run of a hundred thousand, she boasts to her daughter, Lumir (Juliette Binoche). ‘Fifty thousand,’ her assistant corrects her, and Lumir rolls her eyes. Such self-aggrandising exaggeration is clearly typical of her mother, and establishes Fabienne’s complicated relationship with ‘truth.’

Lumir lives in New York, where she is a screen-writer. She has a husband, Hank (Ethan Hawke), a TV actor, newly sober after a stint in rehab, and a young daughter, Charlotte (Clémentine Grenier); this is their first visit to Paris for many years. Clearly Lumir and Fabienne have issues to work through.

The storytelling is as elegant as Fabienne’s home furnishings. She has all the trappings of success, including a house that ‘looks like a castle.’ She’s imperious and vain, but complex too: this is no pantomime villain. Just a woman, caught in the gap between the fantasies she performs and the emotional realities she avoids.

The film-within-a-film device is neatly employed, the parallels between Fabienne’s current project, Memories of My Mother (based on a short story by Ken Liu), and the dynamics of her real-life family are subtly – but clearly – defined. In the story, a mother is frozen in time; her daughter ages while she stays the same. Fabienne plays the daughters’s oldest incarnation. But Fabienne and Lumir are frozen too; they’ve never moved past the resentments forged in Lumir’s youth, never resolved their feelings around a cataclysmic event, the death of ‘Sarah,’ Fabienne’s friend (and rival), and Lumir’s confidante. But, as Lumir confronts Fabienne about the distortions in her memoir, we see the glimmerings of a thaw…

Deneuve completely dominates this film, and that’s as it should be: it’s clearly her story. Fabienne is a huge character; everyone is diminished in her presence. Binoche and Hawke make excellent foils, their exasperation and admiration beautifully conveyed.

Koreeda is clearly one to watch; this is an utterly compelling piece of cinema, where not much happens but everything matters.

4 stars

Susan Singfield