previously published on Cineuropa
When it comes to imagining the horrors of the future, our imagination often proves to be limitless. However, the real terror does not stem from the inventions we have fabricated, but rather from their connection to the situations and occurrences we observe in the real world and in our immediate environment. That also goes for Syeyoung Park’s newest dystopian horror feature, The Fin, which has premiered in Locarno’s Filmmakers of the Present competition.
After environmental collapse, the Korean peninsula is unified as one state that sports all the hi-tech advancements of the South along with all the propaganda apparatus of the North, but the devastation has created a new division. While most folks live almost normally, albeit under some restrictions (for instance, being dirty is seen as an act of patriotism, since it saves water), the mutated Omega people are being held in captivity beyond the boundary of the Great Korean Wall and are being used as slave labour to clean up pollution. The state propaganda marks them out as enemies, and invites others to join the civil service that combats and catches the runaway Omegas.
One of them (Goh-woo) goes missing from one of the colonies. It turns out that he is on a mission to find Mia (Yeon Ye-ji), also an Omega, but who lives in hiding and works at an eerie fishing shop that actually sells the nostalgia of the “Old World ways” to its customers. At the same time, Su-jin (Kim Pur-eum), a new agent in the Korean Freedom Youth Civil Service, sets out on a mission to capture the Omegas in hiding, including Mia, but as she gets more involved with her work, she starts questioning the official propaganda.
It’s not hard to spot details from our own world in this bleak vision of the future, from national and class divisions to the toxicity of propaganda and the obsession with our own safety, ever in jeopardy because of others. But connecting The Fin to specific things like the division of Korea, the refugee crisis, the exploitation of foreign migrant workers and both of Donald Trump’s terms in office would be superficial. That’s because Park creates a universe of his own, and does so from scratch and in depth, presenting it carefully and with a great sense of restraint while developing the characters and the plot in his script.
However, the greatest thing about The Fin is its execution, which is partly the product of budgetary limitations and partly the filmmaker’s usual modus operandi, as we saw in his previous feature The Fifth Thoracic Vertebra (2022). There are some cinema-vérité ingredients, as Park, his cast and his crew sometimes filmed in uncontrollable conditions. Although the colours of the sky, the land and the water are quite unnatural, as per the script requirements, in Park’s own cinematography, the imagery seems almost palpable owing to the visuals resembling those of 16 mm works, complete with the inherent graininess. While the years-long editing process steered by Park, Han Ji-yoon and Clémentine Decremps also demanded some re-shoots, it was always less about the plotting, and more about the atmosphere and vibe. In that regard, one should commend the actors for their dedicated work, especially in the micro-acting department once Park opts for close-ups, as well as main composer Haam Seok-young, whose piano-driven score induces the right amount of melancholy. In this way, The Fin becomes a stellar example of an elevated genre piece that could prove to be a genuine discovery on this year’s festival circuit.
