“Unlocked” Netflix Poster
Director: Kim Tae-Joon
Cast: Chun Woo-Hee, Im Si-Wan, Kim Hee-Won, Park Ho-San, Kim Ye-Won, Jeon Jin-Oh, Oh Hyun-Kyung, Ryoo Sung-Hyun, Jeon Ik-Ryung, Kim Joo-Ryung
Running Time: 117 min.
By Paul Bramhall
Ever since the mobile phone became widely available in the late 90’s there’s been no shortage of cinematic offerings to have their plots revolve around the device that we can’t live without. Korea is no different, be it supernatural goings on through 2002’s Phone, time travel themed thrillers or horror like 2015’s The Phone and 2020’s The Call, or a race against time to retrieve incriminating content like in 2009’s Hand Phone. Much like the shift from our old Nokia 3310’s to the latest iPhone (ok, since we’re in Korean territory technically we should say Samsung Galaxy), while the devices may become more advanced and slicker, the plots that they’re placed at the center of largely remain the same.
Which brings us to 2023’s Unlocked, a remake of the 2018 Japanese movie Stolen Identity (which was itself based on a novel by Japanese author Akira Teshigawara), helmed by Ringu director Hideo Nakata. Unlocked doesn’t have quite as experienced a director at the helm, with the production marking the directorial debut of Kim Tae-joon, who so far has spent most of his career on various productions as part of the directing crew (including being the assistant director for 2014’s Office). Adapting a tale that directly plays into how reliant we’ve become on our smart phones, Tae-joon creates an attention-grabbing opening credits sequence that plays over our main characters phone screen as she texts, takes selfies, banks, e-mails, shops, and because it’s a Netflix movie – watches Netflix.
Played by Chun Woo-hee (Idol, The Piper), her character is juggling 2 jobs working for an online fashion retailer while also supporting her father’s café, the result of which sees her heavily rely on her smart phone to basically run most of her life. After a drunken night out with friends she accidentally drops her phone when getting off the bus, only realising its missing when her friend wakes her up the next morning, having attempted to contact her by calling. Unfortunately the phone has been picked up by a serial killer played by Im Si-wan (The Merciless, The Attorney), who’s rather niche modus operandi involves retrieving the phones people have dropped, returning them with spyware installed that clones the phone, then turning the victim’s life upside down. In fairness he does also own a phone repair shop, however it’s so off the radar that it’s hard to believe anyone would visit other than those victims he invites to retrieve their phone.
Perhaps unsurprisingly considering how much chaos is caused by Woo-hee’s phone falling into the hands of a serial killer (and how easily all of her data is stolen), it seems like neither Samsung or Apple were willing to come onboard to enjoy the benefits of product placement, so instead we’re left with the fictional Thunder brand (we do see a lot of Instagram though).
The concept of a stranger being able to watch and listen to your every move through your smartphones camera and microphone is a suitably disconcerting one, let alone the fact that they can also access your social media accounts, online banking, and much more. Despite this though, Tae-joon crafts what for the most part is an entirely predictable and tensionless affair that struggles to find any meaning to justify its existence. Both Woo-hee and Si-wan are capable of delivering nuanced and layered performances when given the right material to work with, however here they’re both left scrambling with a one-dimensional script that veers from dull to ridiculous over the course of the almost 2-hour runtime.
Si-wan is basically playing the same character as he was in the equally lacklustre Emergency Declaration, that of an uninspired, motiveless killer, one that further continues a laziness around crafting memorable antagonists that’s become increasingly pronounced in Korean cinema during recent years (see also the serial killer characters in the likes of The Witness and Midnight). Matters are confounded further by the introduction of a pair of completely useless detective characters, played by Kim Hee-won (On the Line, The Divine Move 2: The Wrathful) and Jeon Jin-oh (The Roundup, Kingdom: Ashin of the North), who beyond padding out the runtime add nothing. While some intrigue is introduced through the reveal that Si-wan’s serial killer could in fact be Hee-won’s estranged son who he hasn’t seen for 7 years, onscreen it largely feels inconsequential, and any opportunity to crank up the tension is squandered.
It’s ironic that the most interesting element of Unlocked – that of a detective suspecting his son to be a serial killer – is the plot thread that gets the least amount of time dedicated to it. The scenes with Hee-won mostly see him moping about and generally looking miserable while making half hearted efforts to uncover if it really could be his son or not. Considering how pedestrian the main plot of Woo-hee having her smart phone stolen and replicated feels, I’d much rather have watched a movie where the main plot is a policeman trying to figure out if their offspring is a psychotic serial killer or not. Here though it sadly barely registers as an afterthought.
Instead, the plot sets up scenarios in Woo-hee’s life that can later be unravelled with a level of transparency only rivalled by a freshly cleaned window. Her boss gives her a pay rise but tells her not to let any of the other staff know, if an upcoming retailer event goes well she’ll get a promotion, the list goes on, all of course perfectly placed for Si-wan to sow seeds of discontent once he has access to her phone data. While foreshadowing is inevitable in any movie like this, there’s a lack of subtlety on display in Unlocked that makes the setups feel stale and premeditated long before the halfway point.
The other inevitability in a plot revolving around a smart phone being hacked is that a lot of time is going to be spent either looking at a phone screen, or as is the case here, watching Woo-hee from the perspective of the phones front camera. With the right balance of editing and sound design, scenes that involve characters spending a lot of time looking at their phones can still be engaging (2015’s Socialphobia is a good example), however here most of the screen gazing lacks any sense of urgency or danger. The result is that there are times when it feels like Unlocked is intended to be little more than an extended PSA on the dangers of storing too much personal information on your smart phone.
By the time Woo-hee finally gets to interact with the 2 detectives the tone takes on one of unintentional comedy, as her character suddenly becomes emboldened to track down and catch Si-wan so she can get her life back (involving a cringe inducing speech that feels completely out of character), coming up with a plan that suggests she’s smarter than both of the detectives combined. Said plan ultimately sees Unlocked limp to an underwhelming finale that feels like a damp squib, topping off an insipid and lifeless take on the thriller genre.
The Japanese original received a sequel in 2020 with Stolen Identity 2, and while I haven’t seen either I can only assume they were far more entertaining and well received than what Tae-joon has put together in the form of Unlocked. I’m also going to assume we won’t get a sequel to the Korean version, as it’s difficult to think of any redeeming qualities that would warrant a continuation of such a dull exercise in genre filmmaking. Ultimately Unlocked ends up a perfect example of a production that squanders a talented cast with lacklustre direction, predictable storytelling, and characters far too underdeveloped to care about. While I usually say I’d rather watch a movie than spend 2 hours scrolling through my smart phone, in the case of Unlocked, I can safely say I’d make an exception.
Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 3/10
