En Route To (지우러 가는 길, Yoo Jae-in, 2025)

“Give only what you can take responsibility for,” Yoon-ji (Sim Su-bin) is advised by an apparently compassionate older man trying to explain to her that sometimes you end up causing further pain while trying to be kind. Yoon-ji’s problem might be that no one seems to want to take responsibility when it comes to her and she herself is struggling to do so while faced with an unexpected pregnancy. Not only has the father disappeared off the face of the earth, but he was also her 36-year-old high teacher and is obviously not going to take any sort of responsibility for his conduct, certainly not for the baby, but not for the false expectations and unresolved emotions with which he’s left Yoon-ji, either.

Much of Yoo Jae-in’s graduation film En Route to (지우러 가는 길, Jiureo ganeun gil) takes place against the backdrop of the only recent decriminalisation of abortion in Korea, but explores the ways in which young women like Yoon-ji are still left with few options when deciding what to do about an unexpected pregnancy. Though she wanted to keep the baby, she is pressured into an abortion assuming that Mr Han has disappeared because she refused to get one and will return once she has. This rather childish thinking demonstrations both her naivety and her desperation, little understanding the situation she is in. It doesn’t seem to occur to her that Mr Han may have done this before and probably doesn’t see her as a long-term romantic prospect. After all, he has a wife already, even if they’ve been living separately with the implication that he’s ended up being transferred to this school in flight from allegations at his previous place of work.

To try to keep it secret, Yoon-ji orders abortion pills off the internet without any sort of guarantee of what she’s actually taking which could be actively harmful to her health in other ways or perhaps just be chalk that won’t help her to end the pregnancy. After finding out what Yoon-ji has done because she borrowed her savings to pay for the pills, Yoon-ji’s roommate Gyung-sun (Lee Jiwon) asks her why didn’t go to a hospital, but as they find out, Yoon-ji would need parental approval in addition to the money to pay for the procedure and as she was abandoned by her father, there is no one she can ask to sign even assuming that the situation allowed her to involve her guardians and she felt comfortable doing so. A friend knows of a vet who is willing to provide backstreet abortions as a hangover from the era in which it was a criminal offence to end a pregnancy, leaving Yoon-ji at the mercy of potentially dangerous medical interventions.

Meanwhile, she can’t really tell anyone about what’s happened to her as Mrs Han has begun to figure out that her husband may have been a serial offender but is intent on saving his reputation, perhaps as a means of saving her own so that she would not have to accept the fact not only that her husband had sexual relations outside of the marriage, but that he did so with underage girls whose trust in him he willingly betrayed while abusing his position as a teacher. She uses her relative wealth to cow Yoon-ji and Gyung-sun into silence by dangling the prospect of a scholarship, ironically in Mr Han’s name as a means of whitewashing his reputation.

Gyung-sun is particularly upset about this, partly because her own mother gave birth to her very young and Gyung-sun has always felt a little guilty about all her mother missed out on to raise her like going to university and getting a better job, or getting married and starting a bigger family. Without explaining why, she pushes Yoon-ji towards ending the pregnancy in part because she experienced bullying and exclusion simply for being the child of a young single mother and does not think it’s fair for Yoon-ji to have a child when she has not really thought about the realities of raising it by herself or what she will tell them about their father when they’re old enough to ask. Both Yoon-ji and Gyung-sun are somewhat outsiders, though Yoon-ji continues to yearn for a family of her own, while Gyung-sun has been selling under the table vape cartridges at school to fund a working holiday visa in Australia specifically to set out for her own independence.

Nevertheless, it’s really in each other that they begin to find a new sense of ”family” as they bond over the question of what to do for the best when it comes to Yoon-ji’s future and the baby’s. They  do indeed take responsibility for what they give to each other, and though left to handle all of this largely on their own, offer mutual support through this difficult time before allowing a conclusion to be reached that will enable them to move on. Warm and empathetic while refusing to moralise, Yoo’s humorous drama is a testament to the power of female friendship which can in some ways at least overcome the constraints of the world around it.


En Route To screened as part of this year’s London Korean Film Festival.

Trailer (English subtitles)

Red Nails (홍이, Hwang Seul-gi, 2024)

A not quite middle-aged woman watches as her mother takes an aerobics class with other similarly aged people at a nursing home. The attendant turns to her and remarks that it can’t have been an easy decision, leading us to think that she has reluctantly decided her mother may be better off living where she can be properly looked after. But Hong (Jang Sun) has actually arrived to take her mother home. Not because she’s had a change of heart, and not exactly because she’s having a hard time and can’t afford to pay for the home any more, but because she’s realised her estranged mother’s a cash cow and the only one she has left to tap.

Hwang Seul-gi’s complex drama Red Nails (홍이, Hong-i) never shies away from its heroine’s flaws even if it tries its best to empathise with her. Hong is clearly irresponsible with money. The piled up boxes in her living room hint that she may have fallen victim to a multi-level marketing scam, but whatever the root causes are, she’s pretty much bankrupt with the bailiffs about to be sent in to seize her goods due to her phenomenally large debts. Even so, we later see her going on shopping sprees as if she were trying to fill some sort of void through guilty consumerism that is really just punishing herself by making her situation even worse. 

Hong’s borrowed money from an ex-boyfriend who has since married someone else but continues to sleep with her while badgering Hong for his money back, claiming his wife’ll throw a fit if he doesn’t get it. Meanwhile, she’s engaged in a fantasy romance with a man from an app, Jin-woo, whom she misleads about her financial circumstances and later uses when she needs a free ride. Hong has a habit of taking advantage of people, including her mother’s old friend Hae-joo who agrees to watch her in the day. Hong often messes her around, staying out late without calling and just expecting Hae-joo is figure something out. Hae-joo eventually confronts her about her unreasonable behaviour while taking advantage of her free labour, but Hong tries to give her money as if that was the problem. Hae-joo is insulted, and bringing money into the equation only threatens to change the nature of the relationship. It makes Hae-joo feel cheap and used when she had been doing this as a friend because she cared about Seo-hee. 

Seo-hee, meanwhile, seems ambivalent about her new living standards and, at times, berates Hong complaining that she wishes she’d never been born. It’s not clear what happened in Hong’s childhood, but they evidently did not get on and still don’t now. Seo-hee wants to go home, complaining that there’s a thief in the house though whether or not she knows that Hong has been dipping into her savings to pay off her debts, she’s still aware that she brought home because she needed money rather than companionship. 

But then Hong is also lonely, and her romance with Jin-woo is an attempt to escape her disappointing circumstances. Her ex suggests she once dreamed of becoming a teacher, but is currently teaching a literacy class for a group of older woman at a local institute where she also cleans the toilets. She also has a second job directing traffic at a construction site where the foreman hates her, docking her pay for neglecting her duties by using her phone while on the job. She cannot her escape her debts through any legitimate means, though that hardly justifies stealing from her mother. 

Even so, it appears that on some level Hong wanted comfort and companionship along with her mother’s approval. As they live together, they begin to draw closer but at the same time it’s clear that they remember things differently, though whether Hong is right to blame Seo-hee’s dementia or has misremembered herself is destined to be an eternal mystery. Hong tries to fulfil her mother’s dream of lighting sparklers, but the pair are yelled by some kind of environmental officer and forced to put them out. Hong looks on forlornly as the glow fades away as if symbolising the flame going out of the relationship between the two women. Despite their growing closeness, there are some things that it seems can never really be made up and all Hong really has is a frustrated memory of a longed-for closeness that can never really be.

Red Nails screened as part of this year’s London Korean Film Festival.

Trailer (no subtitles)