Director: Kim Chang-hoon
Cast: Hong Xa-bin, Kim Hyung-seo (Bibi), Song Joong-ki, Kim Jong-soo, Park Bo-Kyung
Running Time: 125 min.
By Paul Bramhall
In Korean cinema it almost feels like a rite of passage for debut writer and directors to tackle the gritty social drama, usually focusing on those who live on the bottom rungs of Korean society, and with 2023’s Hopeless Kim Chang-hoon proves he’s not going to be one to buck the trend. In this case we get Hong Xa-bin, a rising star who, after supporting roles in the likes of 2019’s Tune in for Love and 2022’s Nobody’s Lover, would take the lead role twice in 2023, with Hopeless and So Long, See You Tomorrow marking him as a talent to look out for.
Here he plays a 17-year-old high school student who’s leading a tough life. While he dreams of immigrating to the Netherlands with his mother and starting afresh, his day-to-day reality is a world away. Living in a deadbeat town, at home he has to suffer the beatings from his alcoholic stepfather, and is forced to share a room with his stepsister, played by Kim Hyung-seo (more popularly known as singer-songwriter BIBI, who’s also featured in the likes of Whispering Corridors 6: The Humming and Phantom). When he takes revenge on a fellow student who’s been harassing Hyung-seo, he finds himself suspended and unable to come up with the compensation to let the issue pass. It’s while working in a local Chinese restaurant that he crosses paths with a group of gangster debt collectors, led by Song Joong-ki (Space Sweepers, The Battleship Island), who upon learning that Xa-bin is also a born and bred local makes an offer to help.
While Joong-ki gives Xa-bin the money he needs, he has no intention of involving him in their criminal activity, however after Xa-bin suffers another beating from his stepfather and loses his job, he forces himself into Joong-ki’s circle. The world of violence and struggle that Chang-hoon’s debut takes place in feels like a familiar one, however there’s a certain focus missing from the narrative which makes it difficult to ascertain exactly what the stakes are for the audience to be invested. Xa-bin soon finds himself included in the gang’s main racket of stealing motorbikes, however if the narrative driver of having Xi-bin join the gang is that he’ll be able to save enough money to achieve his dream of leaving Korea, then at no point does it ever feel like a realistic outcome. That may be the point, especially considering the title, but at the same time it makes the 125-minute runtime sometimes feel a little laborious.
Perhaps to compensate for the lack of an arc involving Xa-bin’s plight, Chang-hoon introduces one of the Korean gangster genres most classic tropes to pad out the plot – that of the candidate running for national assembly whose campaign is being funded by gangsters, the end goal being that they push through a redevelopment plan. There are so many comparative examples that come to mind that I found it impossible to choose one, so I’ll let you pick your own, as long as you’ve seen more than 3 Korean gangster movies then the trope is guaranteed to be in at least one on them. Here the gangster in question and Joong-ki’s boss is played by Kim Jong-soo (Dr. Cheon and the Lost Talisman, Kingmaker), who recognises the potential in Xa-bin, and ultimately plans to use him for his own nefarious purposes.
One of the most interesting elements that feels like it’s only hinted at in Hopeless is the attraction between characters. There’s an underlying homoeroticism in Joong-ki’s feelings towards Xa-bin that’s never openly acknowledged, but is certainly there. While he never had a reason to give Xa-bin the cash in the first place (beyond acknowledging that they’ve both never left the town they were born in), later on when Xa-bin visits Joong-ki, the latter invites him in to eat and then tells him he can stay over if he likes. As the plot progresses at one point Xa-bin offers Joong-ki his stepsister in return for a favour (part of the gangster code), however once they’re left alone Joong-ki never acts on it, and instead chooses to silently lament on Xa-bin’s woes.
Similarly there’s an undercurrent of attraction between Xa-bin and Hyung-seo, despite their parent’s relationship making them stepsiblings, one which is manifested in how they’re both protective of each other and within their interactions. However these elements are never elaborated on, with romance (potential or otherwise) playing no part in the world Hopeless takes place in, a point which is emphasised by the only relationship the story does feature ending in one of them beating the other to death with a baseball bat. In many ways it feels like a missed opportunity. The dynamics stemming from the sexual tension between a pair of step siblings and the gangster whose taken one of them under his wing could have made Hopeless a unique entry in the genre and, if handled the right way, acted as the powder keg for the violence that comes in the later half.
As it is though the plot begins to feel increasingly unsure of where it should end up, and without a particular villain or overarching character responsible for creating a conflict, Hopeless suffers from feeling slightly directionless during its final third. This is confounded by a confrontation between Xa-bin and Joong-ki that feels like it should have been being built up to, however within the context it takes place in doesn’t necessarily make much sense, and definitely misses the emotional heft that it’s clearly aiming for. It’s enough to debate if parts of Chang-hoon’s debut have been left on the cutting room floor or were altered from their original incarnation, as at times I was reminded of the confrontation between Joo Jin-mo and Jo In-sung in 2008’s A Frozen Flower. The issue here is that there’s not enough of a bond between the pair for it to feel like it means as much as what’s being implied.
Despite the grim subject matter, the cast clock in strong performances, with Xa-bin in particular striking a delicate balance of vulnerability and aggression. Joong-ki is one of those actors who, much like Hyun Bin, tends to be hired primarily for his looks, however recently he’s been making a notable pivot to roles which stretch his acting ability more than the usual fare he gets cast in. 2024’s My Name is Loh Kiwan saw him as a dishevelled North Korean defector trying to get by in Belgium, and here he puts in a solid performance as the gang leader (complete with a piece of his ear missing). We still get the obligatory topless shot to show off his chiselled figure, and a lot of his dialogue tends to be exactly what you’d expect a gangster in a Korean movie to say, but any concern that he was miscast can be set aside.
Of course as with any production that involves gangsters, inevitably violence follows. Indeed the first shot is an immediate attention grabber, following Xa-bin from behind as he paces across the school yard, picks up a rock, and proceeds to smash it into the head of another student. In many of these tales there’s a recurring theme of violence begets violence, and in Hopeless it’s no different, although it eschews the usual mass brawls for a more up close and personal approach. Fingernails are pulled off with pliers, nail filled plastic bags are repeatedly smashed into a lackey’s face, and knives are stabbed into legs. It’s an ugly approach that refuses to glamorize the violence that the characters partake in, frequently lingering on the consequence of the violence as much as the act itself.
While Hopeless contains the right ingredients for a gritty slice of wayward youth gangster drama, the relationships between the characters don’t quite come together in a meaningful way, the result of which means a lot of the events in the last third don’t feel fully earned in terms of being emotionally invested. That’s not to say that Chang-hoon’s debut is a complete write off, however it also could have been so much more. Hopefully (no pun intended) his sophomore feature will fully realise the potential that Hopeless shows glimpses of.
Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 5.5/10