Bring Me Home (2019) Review

“Bring Me Home” Theatrical Poster

Director: Kim Seung-Woo
Cast: Lee Young-Ae, Yoo Jae-Myung, Park Hae-Joon, Lee Won-Geun, Kim Yi-Kyeong, Park Kyung-Hye, Ha Yun-Hui, Choi Hyung, Baek Joo-Hee, Kim Tae-Yul
Running Time: 108 min.

By Paul Bramhall

In 2005 director Park Chan-wook would conclude his Vengeance Trilogy with Sympathy for Lady Vengeance, a title which I often refer to as my favorite of the 3 (the others being Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance and Oldboy), depending on which day of the week it is. The figure of vengeance the title refers to was played by Lee Young-ae, who had previously worked with Chan-wook on 2000’s JSA – Joint Security Area, playing the military officer investigating the events the movie revolves around. Before they’d reunite, Young-ae featured in a double whammy of that Korean favorite – the terminal illness melodrama, starring in Last Present and One Spring Day – but for many fans in the west, it’s her uncompromising role in Sympathy for Lady Vengeance that’ll be the one she’s remembered for.

I’m part of that demographic, and similar to how I felt about Song Kang-ho and Bae Doona in Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance, and Choi Min-sik in Oldboy, having been lucky enough to enjoy Sympathy for Lady Vengeance at the time of its release, I was looking forward to seeing what Young-ae would do next. It was a long wait. Other than playing the title character in the 2016 TV drama Saimdang: Light’s Diary, Young-ae has spent the last 14 years out of the spotlight, and it would take until 2019 for her to return to the big screen, headlining the thriller Bring Me Home.

Ironically, in some ways her return to the world of film could almost be considered a spiritual sequel to Sympathy for Lady Vengeance, as once more she finds herself as a mother attempting to be reunited with her child. In this case the child is missing. It’s believed he was kidnapped from a playground 6 years ago, and Young-ae’s husband, played by Park Hae-joon (Heart Blackened, Jo Pil-ho: The Dawning Rage), has been scouring the country in an attempt to find him, while Young-ae works as a nurse in Seoul. After a tragic accident as a result of a prank text message, the case is covered by the media and captures the attention of a police officer working in a small seaside village, who becomes convinced an abused child working at the local fish farm is the boy Young-ae is looking for.

Of course for anyone that’s seen a Korean thriller before, tightly knit small town communities usually hide dark secrets, and Young-ae’s arrival isn’t a welcome one to the locals, who would rather be left alone. Bring Me Home is probably best described as Azooma meets Bedevilled,  taking the vengeful mother character from the former, and applying the foreboding claustrophobic tone of the latter. As the debut of writer and director Kim Seung-woo, it’s a bleak journey that doesn’t compromise on the dark themes being explored, anchored by Young-ae’s performance. Seung-woo seems to be aiming for the same punch in the gut style of filmmaking that Korea did so well in the 00’s, with productions like No Mercy and the previously mentioned Bedevilled. 

Bring Me Home doesn’t rush its pace to get into thriller territory though, with Seung-woo’s script wanting us to get to know its main characters. We spend time with Young-ae and Hae-joon’s married couple, and share their hope that they’ll find their son, as well as gaining an insight into their relationship with a young worker at an agency that offers support in finding missing kids. Played by Lee Won-geun (Misbehavior, The Net), his character was once a missing child himself, and his role reinforces that sense of hope as much for the audience as the characters onscreen. It’s arguably that same sense which endears us to Young-ae, and helps to ramp up the tension when events take a turn for the worse, as she finds herself alone and being confronted by increasingly violent circumstances.

The fish farm itself is portrayed as a nasty place. The centre of the local economy, its distance from the bigger cities has made it a refuge for all manner of unsavoury characters, working because it’s the only place they can and housed in dilapidated old shipping containers. Like most of these small towns portrayed in Korean thrillers, the police and the village elder are complicit in the wrongdoing that goes on, willing to turn a blind eye as long as no outsiders bother them. Young-ae’s arrival upsets that balance, her presence alone forcing characters to acknowledge their wrongdoing, which frequently translates into angry outbursts. The 2 kids working on the farm clearly don’t belong there, and the casual nature in which violence and sexual advances are directed towards them is uncomfortable to watch, but manages to stop just short of straying into bad taste.

Seung-woo intentionally took the decision to surround Young-ae with lesser known actors, and its one which pays off, making the environment she finds herself in seem as unfamiliar to us as it does to her. Yoo Jae-myung (The Drug King, Golden Slumber) plays the cop who’d rather Young-ae return to Seoul as soon as possible, and his portrayal is one of a suitably hateful figure whose lack of action is appropriately infuriating. Likewise for Jong Ho (Dreamer, The Great Battle), who as a suspected murderer with paedophilic tendencies comes across as both repulsive and dangerous, seemingly never more than a moment away from committing some sort of heinous act. The most recognizable face is Kim Jong-soo (Asura: City of Madness, A Violence Prosecutor), playing a criminal who at least has some form of conscience, but whose desperation to not get caught ultimately makes him no better than the others.

Bring Me Home’s commitment to realism acts as somewhat of a double-edged sword. The hook for the narrative would seem to center around Young-ae turning into a force of vengeance, and to some degree she does, arming herself with a scythe in the final reel as if to indicate things are about to get messy. But Seung-woo treats the scenario in a way that reflects what would most likely happen if a slender middle-aged lady attempted to take on a group of men with violent tendencies, and she spends most of the time either getting severely beaten or in retreat. Korean cinema has never been particularly shy about showing violence towards women, and Young-ae takes a lot of punishment for her decision to make a stand, which isn’t pleasant to watch.

It’s not in vain, however the cathartic experience that similar themed productions like A Girl at My Door, Miss Baek, and even Young-ae’s own Sympathy for Lady Vengeance so skilfully pull off (notably not always by resorting to violence) feels like its missing here. Despite the relentlessly grim tone, surprisingly it would be unfair to call Bring Me Home a nihilistic affair. Young-ae ultimately finds a glimmer of hope after the turmoil she spends the majority of the movie being put through, ending on an unexpected note that doesn’t entirely sell itself.

More than anything, Bring Me Home feels like a director who’s still finding his footing. The story itself is straightforward, but Seung-woo’s script somewhat skimps on the details, leaving elements of the plot feel incomplete. I’m all for ambiguity and leaving room for interpretation, but here it feels like somethings missing, like never getting to know how the 2 kids ended up where they are. The opportunity to explore the deeper levels of corruption and paint a broader canvass feel like a missed opportunity, but as it is having an actress such as Young-ae as your lead goes a long way to earning good will for a debut. While Bring Me Home lacks both the subtlety and thoughtfulness of its other hard-hitting contemporaries, as a straightforward thriller that isn’t afraid to go into some dark places, its arguably a success. 

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 6.5/10