Minari review – Season One: At The Oscars 2021

South Korean cinema is currently in its renaissance period. Born from liberation and war, the Golden Age of Cinema for the Korean film industry was the late 1950s, with 96 films being made between 1954 and 1959. Since then, there have been regime changes which increased censorship, blacklisting and imprisoning artists, as well as encouraging business conglomerates such as Samsung to distribute them further in western cinema. Parasite winning best picture at the Oscars in 2020 is arguably the pinnacle of this period. A landmark for any production, the milestone is particularly significant as it is the first ever foreign film to win the award. It shows progress, not only from within South Korea to compete and succeed in Hollywood, but also another facet of diversity recognised, accepted and flourishing at the Oscars. This has continued into the 93rd Academy Awards with Minari.

Minari (translating literally as Water Celery) is a Lee Isaac Chung directed picture about a Korean family moving to Arkansas in the 1980s. Jacob (Stephen Yeun) is the patriarch of the family with dreams of starting a farm, ridding himself of his current job as a chicken sexer. The land he’s purchased, however, requires a lot of hard work and comes with a dogged history, taking his sceptical but supportive wife (Yeri Han) and children (Alan S. Kim & Noel Cho) out of their comfort zone. With news that Grandma will also be moving from Korea to live with them in the already cramped trailer, can this family survive the strains of this new life? A powerful drama about pride, faith, and family, it’s these characters that truly do make the film. Yuh-Jung Youn wins the best supporting actress for her role as the Grandma, classed as not a “real” Grandma due to her lewd behaviour. Her addition elevates everyone else, raising the comedic bar forming relationships with the children but creating further conflict to her daughter and son-in-law marriage. She wants to support but is another element to the quiet chaos occurring on the farm. However, it’s 7 year old Alan S. Kim that steals the show. The heart of the film, with a cheeky grin on and smart alec answers, Alan’s character David has to handle some pretty big subjects which he takes within his sprightly stride.

Whilst family is arguably the most important theme in the film, the idea of success and failure is a key part that struck a chord with me. Jacob is constantly striving for his farm to be fortuitous, proving to himself and others he can do it: “They (his children) need to see me succeed at something for once” and “Even if I fail, I need to finish what I have started”. His wife Monica also works as a chicken sexer and sits opposite him. Jacob is considered one of the best at this job and his ability whilst simultaneously wanting more has an effect on Monica’s self-esteem. She spends some of her limited free time practising, taking chicks home to improve her technique. It’s this spectrum of success that makes film and life interesting, someone’s easy success is another’s hard fought failure. The story of how the director Lee Isaac Chung went about writing and making this film is another prime example of this, tying in the theme of resilience. He was about to start teaching full time in order to support his family, but used his time prior to gain inspiration from his parent’s journey and write this script. This picture is a source of inspiration for me, not only in the way of never giving up but to also accept my progress. Just because I haven’t met my standards does not make me a failure, I just have to recognise the victories I have achieved.