‘Burning’ Movie Review: A Quiet but Impactful Thriller
Lee Chang-dong’s 2018 film, Burning, left me shivering quietly for hours after I finished it. To this day, actually, I can still remember watching the final pulsating moments of the film for the first time. I was glued to the screen, unable to look away.
The story is based off of Haruki Murakami’s short story, Barn Burning, published in The New Yorker magazine in 1992. Lee’s adaptation starts off with Jong-su (Yoo Ah-in), a young delivery guy and aspiring writer who lives isolated from urban society in a lonely house on the outskirts of Seoul. His journey begins when, while out in delivery, he meets a childhood friend, Hae-mi (Jeon Jong-seo). She’s comes off as extremely friendly and confident, opposed to the awkwardness of our protagonist. Since she’s so excited to meet him again after all the years, she invites him to hang out.
Jong-su quickly forms a subtle attachment to her that Yoo manages to capture flawlessly. In fact, Jong-su grows so fond of Hae-mi so quickly, we can sense just how bad he was craving human interaction. When Hae-mi goes out of town to vacation in Africa for a while, he asks Jong-su to take care of her cat, which he obviously accepts.
By the time Hae-mi returns, she has a friend by her side. The mysterious Ben, played by Steven Yeun. Ben is a continuous figure of mystery from the get go, and throughout the whole film. We learn that he is attractive, charismatic, and has a lot of money, although we never quite learn what he does for a living. As Jong-su later phrases it so well, he is like a Gatsby figure. To Jong-su’s dismay, Ben is going to stick around for a while, winning over Hae-mi’s attention.
Lee Chang-dong is a master in many aspects of his craft. He is in total control of his films, and it shows. Burning, for example, is a straight up thriller, but it’s not your average Hollywood thriller. Even if the description I just wrote above makes it sound like a South Korean romantic comedy about a zany love triangle, it’s far from anything remotely funny. Soon after Ben is introduced to the equation, he reveals to Jong-su his secret passion/hobby; abandoned greenhouse burning.
The film takes a smooth turn by this point. It only builds up its tension from that moment on. As the viewer, I knew something was deeply wrong. The story continues to flow at the same pace as before. I loved that Chang-dong opted to make Burning a slow, quiet film. Editing is slow paced, and shots linger for extended periods of time. We spend quite a while looking at our protagonist’s confused expression. Music is passive and not very loud. Chang-dong utilizes all of these characteristics and builds an incredibly tense and disturbing atmosphere without any sort of release. It’s just momentum building up towards the end.
Burning can be argued to be about many things. Aside from the very literal story line following Ben’s mysterious reveal, I personally see it as a study in alienation, and even a bit of toxic masculinity. When Ben first arrives in the picture, we don’t know if Jong-su’s jealousy towards him and Hae-mi is what creates the tension, or if something is actually wrong with the newly introduced character. Jong-su obsesses over this new male figure who is more successful, better looking and smarter than he is. By the end of the film, even if there are nods that point away from this, one might assume that Jong-su is consumed by this inferiority complex he struggles with.
Jong-su might be the protagonist, but his mostly awkward and clueless attitude would make it hard to relate if we as an audience weren’t in his same situation. So, consequentially, I found him to be compelling in a weird situational way. Steven Yeun, though, shines bright as the sociopathic (or psychopathic?) Ben. He never really breaks, or allows his inner demons to surface. His face is calm, he talks in a nonchalant way, as if he has no care for the world. In case you are wondering, there are no American Psycho moments in this film. Do not expect Yeun to chase Jong-su covered in blood with a chainsaw. Nonetheless, Ben comes off as one of the scariest film characters I have ever seen. Much like Anthony Hopkins’ performance as Dr. Hannibal Lecter in The Silence of the Lambs, Yeun is a charming type of evil. One that you know is sketchy, who isn’t showing his real face most of the time, but might reveal itself at any moment.
I kept waiting for that moment the whole film, but it never came. By the end, I was even more disturbed than how I thought I could be. Lee does not answer questions by the end, and even though he leaves subtle clues sprinkled here and there, I still can’t shake off the feeling of ambiguity. Was Ben the real monster? Or was it Jong-su’s fragile masculinity that drove him to insanity?
While inclusion wasn’t exactly in the directors mind, it does showcase a pretty honest and authentic glimpse into South Korean society and culture. It’s also a refreshing take on the thriller genre that deals a lot less with shock value and a lot more with the nature of our characters. We get to know Jong-su and Hae-mi to a pretty good extent, and they are both portrayed as real people who live real lives. I loved to see a different way of representing Asian people than the usual Hollywood way.
Burning is one of the best movies of 2018, or maybe even one of the best from the last decade. A must watch for thriller fans, it will crawl into your skin and make you feel uneasy for two and a half hours. Lee Chang-dong proves that South Korean cinema deserves top recognition.
