In this blog post, I’d like to discuss the showdown between the superhuman and Gyu-nam depicted in ‘The Superhuman’, the conflict between reality and fantasy, the narrow and lonely worlds in which the characters live, the film’s charm—even amidst its disappointing ending—and Director Kim Min-seok’s passion for his work.
- A Grand Opening and the All-Too-Real World of the Superhuman
- What if Batman or the Hulk were filming a movie in a run-down alley in Yongsan?
- The Showdown Between the Superhuman and Kyu-nam—Which Could Have Been Anything But Predictable
- Why did the fact that Kyu-nam was a psychic become such a controversial issue?
- Why did a film that had chosen to focus on reality return to fantasy at the very end?
- Even so, this film is endearing.
A Grand Opening and the All-Too-Real World of the Superhuman
The film “The Superhuman” opens on a grand scale. A child with a blindfold, the ability to control people, and a situation where even the child’s mother is willing to abandon him because of that power. Just from the opening sequence alone, a flood of genres pours in. Science fiction, superhero stories, action, suspense—and more. Just as expectations for this genre-blending film are rising, the movie attempts to manage those expectations in a different way.
Just as you’re brimming with excitement at the prospect of a new film, another man appears. A man who, while working alongside foreign laborers, survived a sudden traffic accident that nearly killed him. The place where he found a new job is none other than “Utopia.” His new workplace has a name that speaks for itself. He is Korean, yet he is more naive and foolish than the foreign workers employed in this country. Just as he feels he couldn’t possibly be any happier, a superhuman with piercing eyes appears in Utopia.
The world comes to a standstill. As usual, the superhuman manipulates the boss to take his money, but one person alone turns his head in the frozen world and looks directly at the superhuman. That man is Kyu-nam. The “Superhuman,” who possesses the ability to control people with his eyes but is never called by name, and Kyu-nam, on whom the Superhuman’s powers have no effect—this is how the two meet.
“The Superhuman” is a sci-fi film. While superpowers are not part of everyday life, the society in which the Superhuman lives is more realistic than in any other movie. The title ‘The Superhuman’, the meticulously crafted depiction of the Superhuman’s childhood, and the majestic opening sequence alone are enough to send audience expectations soaring.
What if Batman or the Hulk were filming a movie in a run-down alley in Yongsan?
This isn’t a story about the Korean filming locations for ‘The Avengers’. If the director had leaned more toward commercial filmmaking, he would have driven the story forward by focusing on the clash of powers and the tension shown when Kyu-nam and Cho-in first met in Utopia. However, the director takes a different approach. For instance, after the Utopia incident fizzles out, he shows Cho-in—who can’t sleep out of fear of Kyu-nam, who has unintentionally appeared in his world—and Kyu-nam, who feels guilt and anger over the boss’s death.
The guilt Kyu-nam feels over the boss’s death is reminiscent of Batman in ‘The Dark Knight’. More precisely, it resembles the process by which Bruce Wayne, carrying the helplessness and anger of having been unable to prevent his parents’ death as a child, transforms into Batman. But is this interpretation truly convincing?
One of the key elements in a confrontation with evil is the sacrifice of someone close to the protagonist. However, Kyu-nam’s journey into the world of superhumans—triggered by the death of a boss he had known for only a short time—does not fully develop into a choice driven by his own agency. Consequently, its power to convince the audience is diminished. Given the expectations of an entertainment film, Kyu-nam is far too predictably good-hearted. He is someone who finds joy in the smallest pleasures and is tormented by even the slightest pain. Kyunam’s world is extremely small. Of course, the same is true for the superhuman with supernatural powers.
The characters and society depicted in this film are very narrow in scope. The story unfolds not in a massive metropolis like Gotham City, but in a shabby office and the alleys of Yongsan. Even at the most dramatic climax, the two protagonists face off on a deserted rooftop, and they appear lonely even in a scene where they seem to be facing death together.
The worlds of these two characters are intensely personal. Gyu-nam returns home, exhausted from the fight and without any friends, but the only place he can go is “Utopia,” where he has only recently started working. The superhero is shaken when the world he cherishes—made up of figurines and toys—is destroyed by the police. Throughout the film, the worlds of these two characters rarely expand. And perhaps that was what this film intended to convey from the very beginning.
Even considering the film’s attempt to balance the nuanced messages of the first half with the rough-edged ideas of the second half, the reason it ultimately failed to win over the audience seems to lie in the way its sci-fi elements were expanded.
World-building is the most important aspect of fantasy and sci-fi films. If a world distinct from reality is solidly constructed and unfolded from the very beginning, the audience recognizes supernatural or irrational elements as part of the new world’s order and accepts them naturally. Furthermore, it is not difficult for them to feel as though that world is part of their own experiential reality.
Hollywood fantasy and sci-fi films make a pact with the audience that the events do not occur in reality, and through that pact, they allow viewers to easily immerse themselves in the film’s world. In contrast, Korean fantasy films often introduce fantastical elements into the real world. Problems arise when the world is not properly constructed in such cases. The moment the audience opens their minds, the concept of reality creeps in ambiguously; and once the audience begins to analyze the story through the rational logic of reality, the door to fantasy slams shut.
‘The Superhuman’ features a superhuman with supernatural powers. Eventually, it is revealed that Kyu-nam, too, was a superhuman—albeit in a different way. However, Kyu-nam is more like a “breadwinner” who uses his powers to make a living in everyday life, and the film chooses reality over presenting a world of unrestricted superpowers. That choice is likely why it failed to fully captivate the audience. Ultimately, the problem lies not in the premise itself, but in the fact that the direction the film chose diverged from the audience’s expectations.
The Showdown Between the Superhuman and Kyu-nam—Which Could Have Been Anything But Predictable
When the two characters first meet, one attempts to manipulate the other, while the other resists that manipulation and stands his ground. In that moment, we experience cinematic fantasy, as if watching the scene where the Hulk is born.
The premise—that there is a character immune to the Superhuman’s powers—is intriguing from the start. However, the film does not portray the Superhuman’s abilities as particularly remarkable. His power lies in controlling people with his eyes; by extension, it is the power to sway others’ minds. Yet this seemingly formidable ability might, in fact, be nothing more than a soulless shell.
The Superhuman’s power is something even he struggles to control. His mother tries to kill him when he is a child but ultimately fails. The mere fact that a character treated like a monster and excluded from society is able to genuinely connect with someone else is enough to create a powerful drama.
The Superhuman and Kyu-nam are characters who make each other special. Kyu-nam is someone who finds contentment in small things, which is why he tries to hold onto his new job at Utopia. On the other hand, what the Superhuman cherishes most is the world inside the building model he created, a world where he dreams of living an ordinary life. And when the police invade that space and destroy it, the Superhuman’s world is thrown into turmoil.
Couldn’t the close relationship between these two characters—who are bound to influence one another—have evoked an effect as intense and fateful as that of Harry and Voldemort in ‘Harry Potter’?
A hero and an anti-hero standing at opposite ends of the spectrum. Considering their respective dilemmas and the potential for mutual understanding, a thrilling and satisfying showdown between the two would be entirely plausible. Yet, their battle in the film still feels lackluster.
Why did the fact that Kyu-nam was a psychic become such a controversial issue?
I believe ‘Psychic’ is one of those films that has been repeatedly torn apart by critics online. In particular, many people were angry about the ending, and it was repeatedly criticized for failing to live up to expectations for a sci-fi film.
However, the tension built through suspense, the interactions between the characters, and the message the film aims to convey are clear. Overall, this film infused an indie sensibility into the action-hero genre. Although it wasn’t perfect, it deserves credit for incorporating the elements of a successful entertainment film while simultaneously attempting to avoid falling into the usual formula.
Yet, for some reason, ‘The Psychic’ has become a film that many people online have taken the time and effort to criticize. Why are people lashing out with such scathing criticism against this film? It’s likely because they felt their fantastical expectations for ‘The Superhuman’ were betrayed.
The revelation at the end that Gyu-nam was also a person with superpowers caused a particularly big stir. The film faced an overwhelming amount of criticism over this ending.
There are thrillers where the culprit’s identity is known from the start, mysteries where the culprit is revealed at the end, and suspense films that build tension at a slower pace. Viewed through this lens, ‘The Superhuman’ is closer to a suspense film than a thriller.
The audience knows why the character “Superhuman” became the way he did and anticipates how the horrific sacrifices he inflicts might be stopped. However, the film concludes with Gyu-nam ultimately failing to stand up to the “Superhuman” sufficiently, right up until the moment the Superhuman succumbs to his own limitations.
At the heart of this sense of disappointment lies fantasy. Throughout the film, it persuades the audience to accept a different kind of fantasy than what they initially expected. Just as the audience grows accustomed to this approach and begins to shift away from their original expectations, the film presents a fantastical symmetry between the two characters once again, right before the credits roll.
Why do we watch fantasy or sci-fi movies? If we consider the reason, we can easily explain why this film has been criticized.
We live in a limited, real-world society where we face various forms of oppression. To resolve the unfulfilled desires we feel within that reality, we imagine—and sometimes even fantasize. Fantasy and sci-fi movies satisfy precisely those desires. However, ‘The Superhuman’ fails to fully satisfy them.
Despite having a heroic narrative, the character Kyu-nam himself fails to make a strong enough presence at the center of that narrative. The sudden emergence of a future hero at the very end is simply not enough to satisfy the audience’s expectations.
Why did a film that had chosen to focus on reality return to fantasy at the very end?
In the fantasy genre, world-building is, of course, the most important element. If a world that differs even slightly from reality is constructed convincingly, the audience can happily embrace the cinematic imagination unfolding within it.
However, while ‘The Superhuman’ takes superpowers as its core theme, what the film actually portrays is extremely realistic. By depicting even the painful lives of foreign workers, this film could have become a genre film that satirizes our society.
However, the film fails to follow through on this bold choice to the end. As it enters the second half, it opts for an approach that diverges from the structure it had maintained up to that point. The two characters repeatedly engage in an unresolved conflict, and in the process, the film depicts an extremely ordinary reality—one that would be entirely mundane were it not for the supernatural element. Then, as the film reaches its conclusion, it presents scenes that seem to abandon the logic of reality it had upheld until then.
It’s also disappointing that there’s no real turning point where the superhuman reflects on his monstrous abilities and his own existence. A trivial question like “What’s your name?” and a sudden sense of compassion for a woman with whom he had little connection are insufficient to evoke deep empathy for the small world the film has built.
That said, the film didn’t lose its consistency from the very beginning. Rather, the film has consistently focused on a very small world and the characters’ personal struggles. Superpowers were merely used as secondary tools to depict that world.
However, the ending—which concludes with the birth of a new hero in an epilogue that seems to foreshadow a sequel—leaves the viewer feeling deflated. The very fact that Gyu-nam can fight against the Superhuman’s powers is, in itself, Gyu-nam’s superpower. While the film uses the superhuman’s powers as a narrative device, it never delves deeply into the dilemmas inherent in those powers themselves.
In fact, the character implied by the title ‘The Superhuman’ might actually be Kyu-nam, played by Go Soo, rather than the superhuman portrayed by Kang Dong-won. However, by the film’s end, it was already too late to establish Kyu-nam as a hero.
It would have been better to either change the film’s title or minimize the impact of the superhuman’s powers on the story. At the very least, they shouldn’t have set expectations for the sci-fi genre this high.
I believe there is only one way for the director to dispel this controversy and alleviate the sense of disappointment: to remake the film, maintaining the same level of care shown at the beginning all the way through, and properly blending a realistic story with sci-fi imagination.
Even so, this film is endearing.
There are always victims in the confrontation between Kyu-nam and the Superhuman. Unlike Gyu-nam, who charges headlong into battle against the invisible Superhuman, the Superhuman hides at a distance and manipulates people. He causes people to fall to their deaths from great heights, and Gyu-nam suffers as he witnesses these sacrifices.
Just as the person closest to a hero often becomes their greatest weakness in superhero stories, Gyu-nam’s endearing foreign worker friends are once again manipulated by the Superhuman and find themselves in danger of being hanged to death.
What the Superhuman wants from Kyu-nam is nothing special—simply that he do nothing. Thus, the Superhuman sometimes appears as a sympathetic anti-hero, while at other times serves as a tool revealing deeply political and social implications. This potential for dual interpretation can easily lead to misunderstandings about the film.
The most striking scene in the film is the crowd sequence in the subway station. In this vast world, everyone stands still, and only two people engage in conversation. This scene is, like the direction the film has chosen, deeply personal.
However, because this personal choice does not extend to the wider world, it is difficult for the film to resonate with a broad audience. The Superhuman manipulates people to stop Kyu-nam, who is rushing toward him. Amidst this, a newborn baby—symbolizing innocence—and Kyu-nam remain unaffected by the Superhuman’s powers.
What if, at that moment, there had been even one character who, while not being manipulated by the Superhuman’s power, had voluntarily blended into the crowd and acted just like everyone else? Wouldn’t the film have been a bit richer if there had been a scene expressing that dilemma?
The very fact that I find myself thinking this way is a testament to my attachment to this film. It’s a shame.
And what about the line the Superhuman uttered when Kyu-nam seemed to have been completely defeated: “It would have been nice if he’d just blended in”? What if the film had tied that message to the epilogue to wrap things up? This is another aspiration I, as a theater major, harbor for ‘The Superhuman’.
Above all, even though this is a fantasy thriller where cinematic imagination can be unleashed to the fullest, the theatrical elements stand out particularly strongly in this work. Of course, there are many plays centered on movement, and even a small group of trained actors can sufficiently create an entire world. However, the imagination the director chose to employ within the medium of film actually stands in a curious contrast to such theatrical approaches.
Perhaps the reason audiences reacted so coldly to this film was precisely because of that sense of strangeness?
After watching the film, I found myself developing a much clearer sense of interest in and affection for the director than I have after seeing any other work. I have no desire to disparage the director’s abilities, as some who have heaped scathing criticism on ‘The Psychic’ have done.
That’s because the director’s values and messages, felt throughout the film, carry a powerful energy that makes it difficult to view this as merely an entertainment movie.
This director doesn’t seem to be a perfectionist. Even in the game-like beat that plays as the two characters threaten each other, one can sense the young director’s bold spirit.
But it’s a shame. Such a shame.
That’s why I find myself wanting to give the director who made this charming film a little more time. Perhaps he simply ran out of time?
The realistic world the film creates is also impressive. The scenes—completed by mobilizing numerous extras rather than relying solely on computer graphics—give the impression that this rookie director chose the hard way instead of the easy solution of CGI. I find that analog choice endearing.
Not every aspect of the film fits together perfectly. The relationships and conflicts between the characters could have been deeper, the world the film built didn’t fully expand to its full potential, and the ending didn’t quite live up to my initial expectations. Yet, within it all, there remains a deep affection for the world and characters that the director refused to give up on.
I think it’s precisely that tenacity that keeps me coming back to this film.
Because it leaves something to be desired, I find myself imagining even more possibilities; and because I can see its shortcomings, I’m curious about the director’s next move. That’s why, in the end, I just can’t bring myself to hate this film.
“The Psychic”—it’s still endearing.