Na Hong-jin's Hope

When I read an initial review of the Korean film HOPE (2026) after its premiere at the Cannes International Film Festival as part of the Main Competition last May, I immediately got into thinking that Na Hong-jin could win the Best Director prize, following in the footsteps of fellow Korean filmmaker Park Chan-wook (this year’s jury president, by the way) who won the prize for the Hitchcockian DECISION TO LEAVE four years ago. It would such be a welcome news, I thought, as Na Hong-jin is such a daring and engaging storyteller. He’s one of my favorite Korean filmmakers, as a matter of fact. 

HOPE is just Na Hong-jin’s fourth feature, but each of his succeeding films turns out to be bolder and more ambitious than the previous one, like, say, the films of Paul Thomas Anderson. But then, the Cannes Best Director prize was eventually handed to a couple of other films. That is, THE BLACK BALL, directed by Javier Ambrossi and Javier Calvo, and FATHERLAND, directed by Pawel Pawlikowski (his second time to win the prize).

I was somehow disappointed, but after watching HOPE in a movie-theater recently, it dawned on me why. The truth is, I was quite disappointed with the film overall. But don’t get me wrong, as HOPE is still a unique and unpredictable genre fare, which is Na Hong-jin’s specialty. If only he was able to carry through the second half how he excellently handled the film in the first half.

HOPE’S opening act thrusts us right away into a gruesome and bizarre situation. Two of the main characters – a police chief (Hwang Jung-min) and a hunter (Zo In-sung) – inspect a dead cow lying on a dirt road in the provincial village of Hope Harbor, whose nasty wounds indicate that this may have been done by some unusual creature. It’s like the opening of David Lynch’s BLUE VELVET, except that what we have here is not just some severed body part.

Subsequent events lead to the discovery of an even greater carnage, where not only dead animals but dead people are found scattered all over the village, the magnitude of which is simply baffling. No ordinary person or animal could have done this incredible destruction. The production design by Lee Hwo-kyoung is vivid and meticulous that the aftermath of the mayhem in the village becomes a character in itself. With this kind of setup, Na Hong-jin draws us immediately into the strange world of HOPE. It’s like a Western frontier as conceived by an episode of THE TWILIGHT ZONE.

Little by little, Na Hong-jin gives us a glimpse of who the perpetrator could actually be, similar to how Steven Spielberg teases us with the aquatic creature in JAWS. We see that something is wreaking havoc, but only its shadow, some quick glimpse of its body part or some hurtling object is what’s being afforded to the viewers for now. It’s really a masterful way to build suspense and tension – picturing in our minds the unseen.

And when the creature is finally revealed, what ensues from thereon is one of the most wildly chaotic and fearful chases through town that you’ll get to experience in cinema, amped up by PARASITE cinematographer Hong Kyung-pyo’s swirling and swooping and racing camera. What’s more telling is that at a key moment during this entire chase sequence, we might gather that Na Hong-jin is aiming to subvert the creature-invasion sub-genre by suggesting an element of cruelty on the part of humans that propelled these giant monsters to sow destruction on planet Earth. This “subversion” is affirmed by a particular character later on in the film. That’s surely one provocative plot point. Though come to think of it, the monster-as-victim already goes back as far as KING KONG or even GODZILLA.

Up to this juncture, HOPE has the makings of a sure cult classic. Eye-popping action sequences, a terrifying giant creature, some wacky characters, and a story peppered with unusual ideas – what more can we ask for? But then, Na Hong-jin uncharacteristically loses his vision by the film’s second half – and there’s still about one-and-a-half hour running-time left!

The second half is reduced to nothing more than a series of endless, repetitive and tiring chase scenes, with characters that have become hard to root for as they are cardboard stereotypes rather than flesh-and-blood humans. Their behaviors are simply one-note: the bumbling police chief, the tough-acting hunter, the idiotic bad guy, and the feisty policewoman. Gone is the morally dubious character like the detective-turned-pimp in THE CHASER.

To complicate matters further (and this isn’t a spoiler since we’ve been seeing this in the film’s promotional trailers and posters), there’s not just one or two, but four giant monsters invading the planet. Therefore, more unnecessarily extended chase or fight sequences. And when two of these creatures (voiced by Hollywood A-listers Michael Fassbender and Alicia Vikander) get to converse towards the end, the nature of the dialogue is laughably incomprehensible. How the film ends – in a disappointingly abrupt manner, after about two-and-a-half hours – routinely points to a possible sequel.

Here’s hoping that Na Hong-jin would be back in top form in the next film. Though this could take some time if we consider the gap between THE WAILING and HOPE which is a decade. In any case, more welcome is the idea that, rather than a sequel, it will be an altogether different Na Hong-jin film instead.