Hirokazu Kore-eda

BROKER: in the margins, finding a profound humanity

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Photo caption: Dong-wong Gang, Ji-eun Le and Song Kang-Ho in BROKER. Courtesy of NEON.

As Broker, the latest masterpiece from writer-director Hirozawa Koreeda, opens, two amiable but shady guys, Sang-hyeon (Song Kang-Ho) and Dong-soo (Dong-wong Gang), are in a church, being surveilled by the cops. A young woman leaves a baby in the “abandoned baby box”, and the two guys sneak over and take the baby! It turns out that they are baby sellers, which sounds repellent, but they place the babies in stable, loving families, whereas the baby would otherwise grow up in an orphanage. A cop (Bae Doona) is on to their scam and is taking out the church; she sees the whole thing and starts tailing the guys, planning to catch them in the act of selling the baby.

The mother, So-young (Ji-eun Lee), returns to the church the next day for the baby and discovers it is gone, but is able to find the guys and the baby. Now she wants a cut of the profits and the three take the baby on the road to another city to complete an arranged transaction; but that deal blows up, and the road trip continues, with a stop at the orphanage where Dong-soo, himself an abandoned baby, grew up. Dong-soo was the most spirited kid at the orphanage, and an eight-year-old boy, Hae-jin (Seung-soo Im), just like Dong-soo, often runs away. When Sang-hyeon, Dong-soo and So-young leave with the baby, they find a stowaway – Hae-jin has hidden himself in the van, and now it’s a party of five.

Off from one Korean city to another, hiding in plain sight in Sang-hyeon’s dry cleaning clean, they are still seeking a buyer for the baby. The cops are still in pursuit, and now some gangsters are, too. It turns out that So-young is not an innocent, which will restrict their options going forward.

Initially, Sang-hyeon and Dong-soo see the baby as a chunk of change, and So-young sees the baby as a problem to be rid of. But as they share infant care in close quarters, they begin to bond with the baby – and with each other. Each has failed in a family relationship or been denied one.

The dogged, humorless cop appears to be a relentless Javert who seems very judgy. It turns out that rigid adherence to order may not be what motivates her.

We grow to care deeply about each of these characters. Hirozawa Koreeda, in Broker and his other films, imbues his characters, however flawed, with profound humanity.

Dong-wong Gang, Ji-eun Le, Seung-soo Im and Song Kang-Ho in BROKER. Courtesy of NEON.

Koreeda has been focusing his work on marginalized people and chosen families. Broker is not his only triumph. His Shoplifters won the Palm d’Or, the top award at the 2018 Cannes Film Festival. Koreeda is also known for the 1995 art house hit Maborosi, one of the best movies of 2008, Still Walking and the 2018 The Third Murder. 

Broker could not work without the shambling likeability of Song Kang-Ho (Parasite, Memories of Murder). The audience has to relate to a major character who is doing something transgressive.

This should be a star-making performance for Ji-eun Lee. Her So-young is believable as she cycles through character evolution that is not apparent to the other characters. Is she a victim or a femme fatale? It’s complicated.

This is the debut film for the kid actor, Seung-soo Im, and where did they find this kid? He’s just great.

I cannot imagine why Broker was not nominated for the International Cinema Oscar. Howard Hawks says a great movie is “three great scenes and no bad scenes”. There are no bad scenes in Broker, and more than three great ones. This is a magnificent film, one of the very best of 2022.

THE TRUTH: reconciling your truth with another’s

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Catherine Denueve in THE TRUTH. Photo courtesy of IFC Films.

In The Truth, writer-director Hirozaki Koreeda’s latest wry and authentic exploration of human behavior, Catherine Deneuve plays Fabienne, one of France’s most iconic living actresses. Her daughter Lumir (Juliette Binoche), a screenwriter living in New York, brings her family to Paris for a visit to celebrate the publication of Fabienne’s memoir.

As the film opens, an imperious Fabienne is being interviewed by a journalist so mediocre that he’s not ashamed of plagiarizing his questions – and Fabienne doesn’t suffer fools.

Fabienne is a diva who demands to be doted upon, and she is a Real Piece of Work. Fabienne has been so career-focused that she sacrificed an emotional attachment to Lumir, who received maternal nurturing from Sarah, a now-deceased peer of Fabienne’s who Fabienne had screwed out of a career-making role.

Her self-worshipful memoir is ridiculously also entitled The Truth. The book falsely paints Fabienne as an attentive, model mother, doesn’t even mention her longtime assistant and inaccurately claims that Lumir’s father is dead.

Lumir’s resentments quickly bubble to the surface, the two probe and spar throughout he movie. Each sees her own experience as a “truth”. The Truth is about their journeys to accept the other’s point of view and on what terms. It’s very funny, and, thanks to Hirokeeda’s touch, remarkably genuine.

Juliette Binoche, Ethan Hawke, Catherine Deneuve and Clémentine Grenier in THE TRUTH. Photo courtesy of IFC Films.

Fabienne is now shooting a movie where she plays the mother of a much younger French film star (Manon Clavel), and the ever-competitive Fabienne has manufactured a one-sided rivalry with her, as she had with Sarah. (The film-within-a-film is a sci fi exploration of mother-daughter angst which I think I would hate if it were a real movie).

I’ve seen four of Koreeda’s movies and they’re all brilliant: Still Walking, Our Little Sister, The Third Murder and The Shoplifters. I rated The Shoplifters among the four best movies of 2018. The Truth is Koreeda’s first film made outside Japan and in languages (French and English) other than Japanese.

Deneuve and Binoche are superb. All of the cast is excellent, including Ethan Hawke, who is a good enough sport to play Lumir’s tag-along husband, a good-hearted but modestly talented American TV actor. The firecracker child actress Clémentine Grenier, in her first film, soars as Lumir and Hank’s daughter Charlotte; Charlotte wants to become an actress like her grandma, and Clémentine just might attain that herself.

The Truth also benefits from the beautiful work of cinematographer Eric Gautier (Ash Is Purest White, The Motorcycle Diaries, Summer Hours).

The Truth may not be Koreeda’s very best, but it’s plenty good. Hirokeeda, such an insightful observer of behavior, can cut to the core his characters’ profound humanity. The Truth is streaming on Amazon, Vudu, YouTube and Google Play.

OUR LITTLE SISTER: remarkably tender

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OUR LITTLE SISTER
OUR LITTLE SISTER

The remarkably uplifting Japanese domestic drama Our Little Sister centers on three 20-something sisters whose father left them over fifteen years ago and whose flighty, selfish mom was never much of a factor in their lives.  The sisters are single and live together when their estranged dad dies and they travel to his funeral.  They meet their 15-year-old half-sister, and rescue her from her step-mom, the father’s third wife.  Now the household contains four siblings, all with different personalities, but all dealing with some sense of parental loss.

The four go about their daily lives, working, going to school, eating at a diner, watching fireworks.  Now here’s the beauty of Our Little Sister, although  there’s essentially no action and very little overt conflict, we learn a lot about these women.  And we begin to care for them.  And we become engaged in their journeys of self-discovery.

Writer-director Hirokazu Kore-eda was introduced to American fans of indie cinema in 1996 with Maborosi, and I listed his Still Walking on my Best Movies of 2009.  It’s a privilege to spend two hours with Kore-eda’s characters in Our Little Sister.  It’s impossible to leave Our Little Sister without being touched by its tenderness (and I’m a pretty cynical and hard-boiled viewer).