Mark Reviews Movies: BROKER

Broker, NEON

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Review by Mark Dujsik | December 25, 2022

Writer/director Hirokazu Kore-eda returns to a fairly common theme for him in Broker: the bonds and definition of family. Some of the human elements of this tale are overshadowed by a plot that seems to keep adding complications, as well as a layer of judgment that doesn't exactly fit into the generous approach to and empathetic tone of a story that is otherwise tough but warm-hearted.

It's a bit like a problem play—in that it directly addresses a social issue and is difficult to categorize. For the most part, though, Kore-eda knows exactly what he's doing when it comes to making us feel for and about characters who are just trying to do their best within and against circumstances that easily could bring out the worst in people.

Here, the filmmaker also leaves his native Japan again, this time to film in South Korea with local actors. Among them is Song Kang-ho, one of the country's most famous and accomplished performers. His success almost certainly comes from the actor's ability to come across as perfectly ordinary, albeit in a thoroughly engaging and slightly off-kilter way, and that quality is exactly what's required of his Sang-hyeon in this film.

The guy works in a laundry by day. His side gig, though, is selling abandoned babies to couples who want but cannot have children of their own. His partner-in-crime—because, despite whatever good intentions the pair might have, this is illegal for obvious reasons, although the morality of it is certainly up in the air because of those intentions—is Dong-soo (Gang Dong-won), a worker at a local church in Seoul.

One night, a young woman named So-young (Lee Ji-eun) leaves her baby on the ground in front of the church, but the child is placed inside the church's baby box, which keeps an abandoned infant safe from whatever harm might come to it, by police detective Soon-jin (Doona Bae). She and her partner Lee (Lee Joo-young) have been investigating the two men's operation, and this baby could give the cops the opportunity to catch them in the act of selling a child.

If the setup makes this sound like a thriller, Kore-eda's patient sense pacing, along with his screenplay's focus on the internal struggles and conflicted feelings of these characters, definitely betrays any such notion. Some of the plotting here does come into conflict with that low-key, grounded approach, especially when a group of gangsters enter the picture. They want money that Sang-hyeon owes them, and by an apparently complete coincidence, they also want the baby, for reasons that eventually push these characters in more ways than are necessary.

Before all of that comes into play, though, Kore-eda lets the conflict and drama emerge naturally and from the differences in outlooks, attitudes, and goals of these characters. Sang-hyeon and Dong-soo want the best for this baby, just as they have for however many babies they have given to wanting—and, of course, paying—families. Obviously, Sang-hyeon is in it for the money, especially now that he's in debt, but we eventually learn of his own familial troubles, letting us see him as more than an opportunist.

As for Dong-soo, he grew up in an orphanage after being left by his own mother, who also left her baby with a note saying she would return. By law, such a written promise excludes a child from the adoption process, and because So-young left a similar note with her baby, he knows the fate that will become this child's.

So-young does return, looking for her infant son, and in order to keep her from going to the police, Sang-hyeon decides to let her in on this unofficial adoption deal. She could use the money, after all, and beyond that, So-young still has no intention of keeping the baby.

The rest of the story is framed, quite simply, as a road trip. The trio travel the country, checking out prospective adoptive parents for So-young's baby, finding assorted reasons to refuse selling (So-young is offended by one couple insulting the baby's appearance, and Dong-soo rightly spots a pair of fakers—not realizing, though, who put them up to it), and learn about each other and start bonding along the way. A fifth member of the traveling party (counting the baby) is Hae-jin (Im Seung-soo), a rambunctious kid from the orphanage where Dong-soo grew up and still visits (checking on the kids and still hoping for some word from his mother), who tags along to add some humor, a bit more melancholy, and another spark of hope to the proceedings.

That character's addition feels a bit calculated and manipulative on Kore-eda's part, but it does allow a little innocence and optimism into a story that does start to feel exceedingly bleak, too. Strangely, the kid also offers the only bit of sympathy toward So-young, whose character is repeatedly insulted and looked down upon for her decision—especially by herself.

By way of the hardline detective and the cynical Dong-soo, the film puts forth an argument against the existence of baby boxes, while Sang-hyeun offers up the counterpoint. Meanwhile, the treatment of So-young in this story—leaving her alone in her guilt, unheard in her opinion, and overwhelmed by the back story that put her in this situation in the first place—is a misstep on Kore-eda's part.

Even so, Broker is generally thoughtful and touching. That's especially true when these characters are allowed to exist on their own and as a makeshift family. Those moments are strong enough to forgive some unfortunate issues of plotting and tone.

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