Burning (Korean: 버닝; RR: Beoning) is a 2018 psychological mystery[3] film[4][5] co-written, produced, and directed by Lee Chang-dong.
The plot depicts a young deliveryman, Jong-su (Yoo), who runs into his childhood friend, Hae-mi (Jeon).
They soon meet an enigmatic young man named Ben (Yeun), whom Jong-su becomes suspicious of, and he begins to believe Hae-mi is in danger.
After Hae-mi has fallen asleep on the sofa, Ben confesses that every two months, he burns an abandoned greenhouse as a hobby.
One afternoon, in front of an intact greenhouse that he is inspecting, he receives a call from Hae-mi, which cuts off after a few seconds of ambiguous noises.
In the restroom, Jong-su finds a pink watch, similar to the one he gave Hae-mi, hidden in a drawer containing other pieces of women's jewelry.
Developed as the work of the international project which was based on one of Haruki Murakami's short stories in The Elephant Vanishes, "Barn Burning".
In October 2016 at the Busan International Film Festival, however, Lee said, "it is a story about young people in today's world.
[19][20] Three days later, newcomer Jeon Jong-seo was cast for the role of Hae-mi based on auditions which began in August.
This included Hong Kong, China, Taiwan, Singapore, the United Kingdom, Japan, Australia, New Zealand, Spain, Greece, Poland and Turkey.
[35] It was screened at the 28th Busan International Film Festival as part of 'Korean American Special Exhibition: Korean Diaspora' on 6 October 2023.
The website's critical consensus reads, "Burning patiently lures audiences into a slow-burning character study that ultimately rewards the viewer's patience – and subverts many of their expectations.
[45] Los Angeles Times's Justin Chang called it "a masterpiece of psychological unease – the most lucid and absorbing new movie I've seen this year, as well as the most layered and enigmatic".
[46] The Guardian's Peter Bradshaw called it "a gripping nightmare" and lavished praise on how "Lee creates a sense of mood and place with masterly flair.
"[47] Sight & Sound rated it the third best film of 2018,[48] and Jessica Kiang wrote in her Cannes review, "The embers are banked up so gradually that it's not until a few hours after the ending of this elusive, riveting masterpiece that you are far enough away to appreciate the scale of the conflagration.
"[49] Tim Robey in The Daily Telegraph observed, "This is Lee's closest ever film to a thriller, but it defies expectations, offering multiple, murky solutions to a set of mysteries at once.
"[50] Vulture's Emily Yoshida praised the film for its "perception of the rich vampirizing youth – not directly biologically or physically or financially, but emotionally" but considered that "Burning lost its steam in its second half".
[51] Peter Debruge of Variety suggested that "[t]he degree to which Burning succeeds will depend largely on one's capacity to identify with the unspoken but strongly conveyed sense of jealousy and frustration its lower-class protagonist feels".
[54] Todd McCarthy of The Hollywood Reporter reacted enthusiastically to the film, writing that "[t]his is a beautifully crafted film loaded with glancing insights and observations into an understated triangular relationship, one rife with subtle perceptions about class privilege, reverberating family legacies, creative confidence, self-invention, sexual jealousy, justice and revenge".
[56] Nick Pinkerton, writing in Artforum, was more muted, writing that "Burning is strewn with all sorts of information whose exact meaning and validity is impossible to determine... a film with such a diffident, often passive protagonist must generate its tensions and attractions elsewhere – memorable supporting players, a tactile atmosphere, a complex sense of the social sphere, an emphatic emotionalism".
However, Adam Nayman from Film Society of Lincoln Center[58] argued and emphasized for The Ringer that the story is "told fully from Jongsu's point of view", so "it's fair to ask whether Lee Chang Dong is cultivating true audience solidarity or urging us to understand the story exclusively through the lens of his hero's prejudices: to see Haemi and Ben as idealized and demonized figures, respectively.
The trope of the missing woman is built into Murakami's narrative DNA: her vanishing will preoccupy the protagonist, neurotically at first, then fade over the months and years to a dull malaise", and "The mystery of Haemi's disappearance is technically 'solved', but becomes supplanted by one grander: the mystery of a world that tantalises with the hope of futurity while locking its millions of subjects in a cold impasse.