Return to Seoul, 2022.
Written and Directed by Davy Chou.
Starring Park Ji-min, Oh Gwang-rok, Guka Han, Kim Sun-young, Heo Jin, Yoann Zimmer, Louis-Do de Lencquesaing, Kim Dong-seok, Shon Seung-beom, Emeline Briffaud, and Lim Cheol-hyun.
SYNOPSIS:
A twenty-five-year-old French woman returns to Korea, the country she was born in before being adopted by a French couple, for the very first time. She decides to track down her biological parents, but her journey takes a surprising turn.
Now in her twenties, Return to Seoul studies the adopted Frédérique Benoît, AKA Freddie (as listed in the credits), who has lived in France her whole life. Her Korean name is Yeon-Hee, which at one point, she fails to pronounce correctly, further illuminating not so much a fractured identity but a repression of all things Korean. Freddie has returned on a whim, supposedly pivoting a canceled Tokyo flight to Seoul (if digital conversations with her adopted mother are to be believed, which they aren’t considering we are dealing with an unreliable protagonist), vibing through life wherever it takes her, welcoming fear.
When Freddy’s guesthouse pals suggest hitting up the adoption center and inquiring about the whereabouts of her parents, her tone goes from playful to rudely defensive, followed by getting lost in Korean music (the only thing about the culture she seems to enjoy and a bridge between language barriers). Naturally, there is a combination of reasons behind this: perhaps Freddie resents her biological parents for giving her up (even if they did have no choice), or maybe she is worried they will want nothing to do with her. Countless thought processes seep into one’s mind and have clearly been doing so for as long as she knew she was adopted.
Played by Park Ji-Min and a livewire revelatory performance embodying restless anxiety, internal pain, and a toxic side likely stemming from the old adage “hurt people hurt people,” Freddie is unquestionably complex with behavior sweetly inviting and repulsively, devastatingly mean. This erratic behavior is possibly bolstered by the fact that her father (Oh Kwang-rok) is eager to reunite, while her mom repeatedly ignores contact notices from the adoption agency. Adding some suspense, Freddie can have them reach out to her mother so many times without a response before legally, nothing more can be done to ensure there are no harassment complaints.
It also doesn’t help that Frankie’s father is the polar opposite; he’s an alcoholic who drunkenly to his new wife every night, wishing back the daughter gave up, now unbearably clingy even if understanding she would prefer still living in France. Stuck in a state of abandonment by one parent and endlessly bugged by another, the split causes Freddie to lash out at her father and push him away.
Return to Seoul (delicately written and directed by Davy Chou) also has some unexpected time skips that, while in some cases could be dug into a little deeper, further play up not just a nationality identity crisis but one of personality as well. Freddie slips into new appearances and shady scenes (working with a French arms dealer at one point), struggling to find herself truly and make peace with her familial situation. The first time jump feels far more natural than the second, but the character work and performances are so uniformly strong and organic that every step of Freddie’s inner conflict is palpable, even if we disagree with some of her decisions.
To play such a layered character with such nuance and range already ensure that Park Ji-Min will be a major star in Korea and should be given more work everywhere; her work is authentic and soulfully emotional. Returning to Seoul is so rich there’s no doubt one will return to it.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
