Tansig-ui sojo: A quiet, heavy watch

Is it worth your time?

Honestly, it depends on if you're in the mood to be sad on purpose. If you want a plot that zooms along, you’ll probably hate this. It moves like a turtle in a sandbox.

But if you like movies that let a room breathe—like, *really* breathe until it feels like you're sitting in the corner with them—then give it a go. It’s got a specific, lonely vibe that I haven't seen in a while.

The quiet parts

Yeong-Ae An is doing a lot of heavy lifting with just her eyes here. There’s a scene where she’s just washing a bowl, and I swear she spent forty-five seconds staring at the soap bubbles. Most directors would have cut that. I’m kind of glad they didn't.

It reminds me a bit of the stillness you get in The Kid, though obviously in a completely different genre. Just people existing in a space, dealing with the weight of things.

Odd little notes

• The lighting in the kitchen changes way too often. It’s like the sun has a split personality.
• Hyeong-Hwang Kim enters the frame at the 40-minute mark and says exactly three words. It was great.
• Why is there a stray cat in the background of almost every shot? Nobody ever acknowledges it.

The movie isn't trying to impress you with fancy camera work. It’s just kind of sitting there, being honest about how miserable it feels to be alone. Sometimes the dialogue feels a little stiff, like it was translated from a textbook, but it didn't bother me as much as I thought it would.

It’s not a masterpiece. It’s not going to change your life. But it’s got a pulse, which is more than I can say for half the stuff I watched this month. ☕