Broker (2022) | REVIEW

Song Kang-ho and Gang Dong-won in Hirokazu Kore-eda’s BROKER — PHOTO: Zip Cinema & CJ ENM Co, Ltd, All Rights Reserved.

Directed by Hirokazu Kore-eda — Screenplay by Hirokazu Kore-eda.

First released in competition at the Cannes Film Festival last year, Broker is the 15th narrative feature from Japanese filmmaker Hirokazu Kore-eda. The film takes place in South Korea, and it primarily follows Ha Sang-hyeon (played by Song Kang-ho) and Dong-soo (played by Gang Dong-won) as they steal a baby from a baby box (a concept that was new to me) — a box where mothers can leave their newborn babies and thus anonymously give them up for adoption or an orphanage — to sell it on the adoption black market. Soon, the young mother (played by Lee Ji-eun) who abandoned her child tracks them down and joins them on a road trip to help them interview the child’s potential parents. Meanwhile, the authorities are on their trail and trying to catch them in the act of selling the bay.

If you are merely reading the premise and not engaging with any of the trailers, you may expect something quite dark here. I mean, this is a film about authorities trying to catch criminals who sell abandoned children on the black market. Furthermore, the context for why the character played by Lee Ji-eun abandons her child (that is, the life she is trying to escape and the things that she has done) is honestly also quite dark. But rest assured that such a dark interpretation of the premise is not what filmmaker Hirokazu Kore-eda is going for. He isn’t as interested in the criminal activities in the film as he is in the people in the film. An undeniably humanist filmmaker, Hirokazu Kore-eda has made a film about the weight of being abandoned and what it means to care for a child.

Admittedly, at the time of writing, I would not at all consider myself an expert on the Japanese filmmaker. Nevertheless, it is quite clear to me that he is dealing with themes that he is particularly interested in and which have had a clear impact on his filmography. The first film of his that I watched — the 2018 Palme d’Or winning Japanese drama Shoplifters — was similarly concerned with a makeshift family and a criminal act made to form those bonds. It was immediately quite obvious to me that he was treading familiar ground. With that having been said, it is still a tender and sentimental film that — like Shoplifters — highlights that blood isn’t necessarily thicker than water when it comes to being a good caregiver. I was often reminded of the scene in Shoplifters in which one of the principal characters appeared to ask outright what it means to be a parent, as the child at the center of that film was being looked after better by strangers than the family she had been born into.

Obviously, the criminal act that the main characters are guilty of is despicable. There is no getting around the fact that stealing kids from baby boxes and then selling them is outrageous and unacceptable. But Kore-eda spends a lot of time building up his three primary characters so as to explain what has gotten them there. It is revealed that Dong-soo, for example, is himself a victim of being abandoned by his mother like this, and he presents us with rehearsed statistics about when orphans are no longer adopted, what the success rate is for orphans, and how many of the mothers whose notes insist that they’ll come back for the child actually do.

Dong-soo and Sang-hyeon are obviously the titular ‘brokers’ trying to settle a price for the sale of a child, but as the film goes on it becomes clear that it isn’t entirely about the money for them, as the way they interview potential buyers reveals their intentions. Theirs is a shady and criminal business but they are presented as sincere people willing to risk things for the betterment of a child. And that’s the thing, because as the film goes on it becomes clear that exactly which characters want the child to be sold changes over time since the authorities are adamant that they must catch our protagonists in the act.

Kore-eda’s film succeeds in examining the states of mind of both parents who have failed and abandoned their children (in one way or another) but also the headspace of orphans, whose entire identity may have been built up on this depressing idea that they were not wanted. It isn’t so much about forgiveness or blame as it is about coming to an understanding of — and accepting — one’s predicament. It is partly about understanding that giving someone — and something — up can also be an act of love, as well as that friendship and shared experiences with like-minded individuals can be just as loving as the normalcy that they may crave.

The film contains these very warm-hearted scenes in a pitch-black hotel room and on a Ferris wheel in which Kore-eda’s intentions are clear for all to see. They didn’t completely move me to tears, but they are some of the highlights of a very sentimental and affecting film. In these scenes, Lee Ji-eun, Im Seung-soo (who plays a young boy who joins them on their journey), and Song Kang-ho deliver perfectly-tuned work, and the latter actor also plays a pivotal part in a scene with his character’s daughter — and this scene was especially emotional, I thought. Song Kang-ho’s nuanced and crushing work there is outstanding.

There are a couple of things about it that didn’t fully work for me. In general, the detective characters feel a little bit underdeveloped. My main issue with the film is that I think the ending feels rushed. It isn’t so much that it isn’t a natural place for the film to end or that the ending isn’t good. Rather, it feels to me like the film rushes past a few things in the ending that make the ending, on the whole, not as satisfying as intended. I think what ultimately happens with Song Kang-ho’s character is the main thing here. While it is easy to guess what happened with him in his last scene, I feel like the film would’ve benefitted to make it more explicit what had transpired with him. Of course, it should also be said that since this film feels so similar in concept to Shoplifters, it is difficult to not compare them. And while Broker might be easier to rewatch, I’m not sure most people would say it is the superior film (I’m honestly not certain how I feel about that yet).

Although Hirokazu Kore-eda may be treading familiar ground with Broker, this is not an uninspired rerun. Rather, Kore-eda’s Broker is an affecting and tender-hearted reflection on family, abandonment, giving someone up, forgiveness, acceptance, and love. I thought it was beautiful, and I would gladly revisit it.

8.5 out of 10

– Review Written by Jeffrey Rex Bertelsen.

One thought on “Broker (2022) | REVIEW

  1. With Kore-eda’s repeat focus on parent-child relationships in his movies, it will be interesting to see where Broker fits among his other similarly-themed movies including (as you mentioned) Shoplifters, Like Father Like Son and Nobody Knows.

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