Minari (2020)

PG-13 Running Time: 115 mins

SHOULD I SEE IT?

YES

  • Minari is a tender, dramatic look at a Korean-American family’s hope and pursuit of their perception of “The American Dream.” It is one of 2020’s best films.

  • The performances are fantastic from top to bottom, and actors young and old (Alan Kim, age 7, and Yuh-Jung Youn, age 73) will equally steal your heart.

  • Lee Isaac Chung has written and directed a semi-autobiographical tale of assimilation, what it means to find success in America, and the struggle and toll such pursuits can make on a family.

NO

  • The film may play too small and narrowly focused for viewers expecting more dramatic bombast from the films they choose.

  • As one of my Top 10 films of 2020, I believe Minari should be seen by as many people as possible. There’s a quiet solitude about it, which will cause some to shrug and go, “Okay.” I’m reaching here, but I guess if you don’t like contemplative, wholly American dramas, stay away?

  • Contemplative dramas about the American experience are nothing you are interested in when watching movies or television.


OUR REVIEW

Though predominantly spoken in Korean, Minari is a deeply felt and quintessential American film and story. The fourth feature from Lee Isaac Chung finds the writer/director reliving elements of his childhood in a semi-autobiographical story of a young Korean family moving to rural Arkansas in the 1980s.

If “The American Dream” was ever a thing, Jacob Yi (Steven Yeun) is in pursuit of it. Uprooting his family from California, the move to Arkansas is driven by the dream of starting a farm on an expansive piece of land, which also comes with a rundown manufactured home in the middle of seemingly nowhere. Wife and mother Monica (Ye-ri Han) is swallowing her resistance to the move hard, at least initially, trying to accept this new normal. Their two children, 10-year-old Anne (Noel Kate Cho) and 6-year-old David (Alan Kim), are trying to assimilate to new surroundings and the realities which come living far away from the comforts of what they had on the West coast.

Jacob is optimistic this is the better way to go. He takes pride in showing his family that you can work hard to earn something for yourself, as opposed to constantly being beholden to working for someone else. Chung takes pride in framing these opening scenes with Jacob’s cautious evangelizing, but as viewers we soon recognize that this decision is tenuous, even singularly focused, at best.

Friction bubbles under the surface between Jacob and Monica as they find themselves doing the same jobs they had in California. Working as evaluators who identify the gender of baby chicks, the daily grind is less than ideal. Monica needs a sense of community, a reality Jacob is negligent in recognizing, even if his intentions appear to be pure in trying to provide for his family.

Minari is a quiet, tender drama, a film that often would be branded as small and independent in scope and feel. Yet, the emotions Chung generates play big and offer a potential to speak to a wide audience. Empathy is almost encumbered in the plight of the Yi family, caught up in a maelstrom of pride, prominence, and wanting to simply find their place in an America that professes to be the destination for so many, with a promise of finding wealth and prosperity if you simply work hard and earn it.

In addition to Yeun’s eloquent performance, Kim, all of 7 years old and prone to dabbing in Zoom press interviews, steals the show as a precocious young boy with a flickering heart ailment that leaves his mother on edge a lot of the time. To help with raising their two children, Jacob arranges for the arrival of Soon-ja (Yuh-Jung Youn), the Yi’s grandmother who is ill equipped and largely disinterested in serving in the conventional matriarchal role. Her fascination with Mountain Dew and professional wrestling offers much distraction from actually “watching” her grandchildren, a personality quirk that leaves David continually aggravated.

Youn’s comedic timing, honed and perfected from more than 50 years of acting history, helps craft a character more thrilled that she has the luxuries of a roof above her head than the opportunity afforded to her to bond with her grandchildren. And yet, with a twinkle in her eye and a devout stubborn independence, Youn adds a layer of emotional complexity the film needs to let us up a bit from the stress we see worn deeply into the faces of the Yi family day-in and day-out.

Chung’s film is beautifully scored by composer Emile Mosseri, with a picturesque presentation by cinematographer Lachlan Milne. As we embed with the Yi family, we feel a bit lost in our surroundings, taking in what we see and experience as the family does.

Minari is one of those quiet-presenting films with a lot to say about the roles which parents play in their children’s lives and the sacrifices families make to provide for their needs. Jacob is not a bad guy, he is steadfast and headstrong, but he loves his family. Monica loves her family as well, and eventually a tacit complicity falls away as she gathers herself to stand up for what is best for those she loves.

This notion of an American Dream is not so much skewered by Chung but challenged. Who is or was it truly for? What hopes of prosperity exist when you make the necessary assimilation, walk through all the right steps, but continue to fall short? Do you carry the burden of possible failure in the eyes of God, like the Yi’s neighbor does when he literally carries a heavy wooden cross on his shoulder each Sunday morning?

Lost in the story of pursuing the American Dream is acknowledging those who suffer in the attempts of achieving it. Minari makes the case that sometimes what truly matters is how we build a foundation of love, compassion, and understanding together and use those supports to find whatever success we hope to achieve for ourselves and our loved ones. Materialism, an inherent element of the so-called American Dream, can only bring a person so far.

CAST & CREW

Starring: Steven Yeun, Ye-ri Han, Yuh-Jung Youn, Alan Kim, Noel Cho, Will Patton.

Director: Lee Isaac Chung
Written by: Lee Isaac Chung
Release Date: December 11, 2020 (VOD); February 12, 2021 (theatrical re-release)
A24