Director Lee Ji-won’s first feature, Miss Baek, follows a child abuse survivor who comes out of the shadows to help an abused little girl. Women are at the center of this story about power, motherhood, and trauma. Working a variety of low wage, low visibility jobs (washing cars, serving as a masseuse) Sang-ah Baek (Han Ji-min) lets her past define her, keeping her in the shadows and in a state of misery. But when she meets Ji-eun (Kim Si-ah), a 9-year-old girl whose stepmother Mi-kyung (Kwon So

Blindly in Love is a sensitive, understated commentary on not only the relationship between a young couple, but also the relationship between parents and children—and the tensions, obligations, joys, and sorrows that come with such a bond. The core of the film is a love story between a 35-year-old civil servant still living at home and a young, sheltered blind woman.

As another year winds down, it’s time for VCinema contributors to select their Asian cinema highlights from the past twelve months. In addition to picking their favorite films from this year’s bountiful crop of releases, some contributors have also taken this opportunity to reflect on related events or other media that stood out in 2018.

Traditional drums thunder as local fishermen in a small Taiwanese fishing village protest against the encroachment of a petrochemical plant on their livelihood and community. Suddenly, a boat—engulfed in flames—races towards the chaotic scene. A fisherman is found dead of an apparent self-immolation, and his compatriots declare him a martyr for their cause. But once it becomes clear that he did not intend to set himself on fire, questions begin to swirl about what really happened. “Wounds don’t

Where is the line between the free speech of a progressive society and the fighting words that could lead to political destabilization? Kim Sang-kyu’s documentary To Kill Alice chronicles the fallout that occurs when South Korean-born singer Shin Eunmi, an American citizen living in Los Angeles, travels to North Korea and then returns to South Korea to share her positive impressions of life above the 38th parallel.

With just a cursory look at the premise, some viewers might be quick to write off Fiction and Other Realities as a sappy romance movie using music as a gimmick to detract from poor storytelling. Those viewers would be wrong. Featuring a Korean-American male lead and indie music, this movie deftly examines the struggles and joys that come along with Korean-American identity.

In May 2017, Taiwan’s Constitutional Court voted to legalize same-sex marriage, paving the way for Taiwan to become the first country in Asia to do so. Images from Taipei’s gay pride parade showed the world the jubilation that came with such a decision. However, despite Taiwan’s reputation as one of the most progressive countries in Asia, this ruling could be in jeopardy as conservative groups fight back against it. Amidst such political rhetoric, it can be easy to forget how such debates affect real families and real people, many of them marginalized. Dear Ex takes this often contentious issue and frames it against a very human backdrop.

A girl examines a massive, disembodied foot wearing a white shoe. Could it be a huge sandal, since we’re on the boardwalk of a seaside village? No such luck. The foot – literally objectified in the opening scene of Angels Wear White – turns out to be part of a massive sculpture of Marilyn Monroe, frozen as her white skirt flies up like it did in The Seven Year Itch (1955).

Keisuke Yoshida’s feature Thicker Than Water is a delightful, dramatic, and relatable film – even for this reviewer, an only child.

Adapted from Risa Wataya’s novel, director Akiko Ohku’s feature Tremble All You Want is an offbeat film that subverts traditional romantic comedy conventions, featuring a protagonist who is as frustrating as she is endearing. Yoshika (Mayu Matsuoka) has had a crush on Ichimiya (Takumi Kitamura), whom she calls “Ichi” (One), since she was in eighth grade. Now a 24-year-old office worker, she cannot move on, But things begin to shift when a work colleague, whom she calls “Ni” (Two) (Daichi Watanabe) expresses an interest in her.

Kim Hyun-seok’s heart-wrenching and thought-provoking feature I Can Speak begins as a comedy and ends as a drama that will leave audiences thinking about the role of collective memory, trauma, and historical revisionism.

Directed by Kim Ui-seok, After My Death is a tense examination of a student tried in the court of public opinion at school and made a pariah by her own classmates and teachers. When high school student Kyung-min goes missing and it seems like she has committed suicide, her classmate Young-hee, who was the last to see her, is thrown into a world of swirling accusations and rumors when her friend Han-sol, who was also with the girls that night, declares that Young-hee “egged on” Kyung-min

“Destroy Koreatown! Let’s bring [Koreans] to the gas chambers!” shouts Makoto Sakurai, leader of Zaitoku, a self-proclaimed “civic group against the privileges of Korean-Japanese people.” Far-right Japanese nationalists spew vitriol at a protest, and two camps of people come up against them: the peaceful counter-protestors, known as “Counters,” and the Otoko, a group fighting against bigotry using violence. Otoko member Kimoto puts it bluntly: “‘If we destroy them physically,’ I thought, ‘They can’t protest.’”

Zhou Quan’s meditative coming-of-age feature begins with the sounds of soccer and a young boy’s face as he stares into the camera. This is our introduction to the subject of the film, a soccer-loving fifth grade boy named Gu Xiaoyang (Rong Zishan). The film captures childhood innocence, curiosity, and desire. Kids peek into a classroom where a staff meeting is going on. Xiaoyang takes his action figures out from under his bed and imitates the soccer players – especially his idol, Alessandro Del Piero – he has just seen on TV during the 1998 World Cup in France.

While alone in the Demilitarized Zone between North and South Korea, a young South Korean policewoman (Joo Minha) steps on a mine in independent film director In-chun Oh’s latest thriller, The DMZ. Armed only with a Bluetooth headset, her gun, and bulletproof vest, she is rooted to the spot. Amidst the lush greenery of this unspoiled land that falls between two countries still technically at war, one false move could mean her death.