In this blog post, I will analyze Director Park Chan-wook’s film ‘Sympathy for Lady Vengeance’ from the perspective of the film noir genre. Through the duality of the characters—including Geum-ja and Mr. Baek—the social criticism embedded in the film, and its striking revenge scenes and conclusion, I aim to explore whether revenge can truly heal guilt and emotional wounds.

The Shock and Lingering Impact of ‘Sympathy for Lady Vengeance’

If I had to describe my initial reaction to ‘Sympathy for Lady Vengeance’ in one word, it would be “shock.” First of all, I felt that it was somehow different from the Korean films I had seen before. Unlike films where the plot and genre could be grasped relatively easily after a single viewing, ‘Sympathy for Lady Vengeance’ was a work that was difficult to categorize at first glance. Perhaps it was the unique, dark atmosphere that enveloped the entire film from start to finish, the narration that appeared throughout, and the strong imprint of Director Park Chan-wook’s distinctive style. Having already been deeply impressed by Director Park Chan-wook’s ‘Oldboy’, ‘Sympathy for Lady Vengeance’ delivered an even greater shock to me.
Even after the movie ended, I found myself pondering the meaning behind the protagonist Geum-ja’s actions, and since I couldn’t immediately grasp the message the film was trying to convey, I rewatched it several times. I don’t think there has been another Korean film that left me with as much food for thought and a lingering impact long after watching it. Personally, I believe ‘Sympathy for Lady Vengeance’ is one of the most adventurous and innovative works in Korean cinema. In particular, the fact that it’s difficult to easily define within a single genre made me want to analyze this film.
The film tells the story of Geum-ja, who spent 13 years in prison after being framed for kidnapping and murder by Mr. Baek, her English teacher whom she trusted, and who sets out to exact revenge after her release. It is also the final installment in director Park Chan-wook’s revenge trilogy, following ‘Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance’ and ‘Oldboy’. The main characters are Geum-ja, her daughter Jenny, Mr. Baek, the pastor, and various inmates Geum-ja met in prison.
Geum-ja, who became pregnant at a young age and had no one to turn to, asked Mr. Baek—her English teacher—for help. However, Mr. Baek was a man who kidnapped children to extort money from their parents and brutally murdered them simply because they cried. While living with him, Geum-ja was threatened by Mr. Baek that he would kill her own daughter, so she ultimately took the blame for his crimes.
Geum-ja turned herself in to the police and claimed she was the kidnapper, but during the investigation, she gave the wrong answer to a detective’s question about the color of a marble. In fact, this moment was a crucial clue that could have raised suspicion that Geum-ja was not the real culprit. However, the detective failed to properly investigate this suspicion, and Geum-ja ended up spending 13 long years in prison.
In prison, Geum-ja earned the nickname “Kind Ms. Geum-ja.” Outwardly, she was kinder and more caring than anyone else, but deep down, her desire for revenge and hatred toward Mr. Baek burned fiercely. During her time in prison, Geum-ja extends a great deal of help to her fellow inmates, and after her release, with their assistance, she carries out the meticulously planned revenge she had been preparing. This coexistence of kindness and cruelty is the crucial starting point for understanding this film.

Why I Viewed It as Film Noir Rather Than a Thriller or Drama

If you look up the genre of ‘The Kindly Ms. Geum-ja’, it is generally classified as a thriller or a drama. However, this raised a strong question for me. Thrillers and dramas are familiar film genres I’ve encountered countless times, yet while watching ‘The Kind-Hearted Ms. Geum-ja’, I found it difficult to recognize the familiarity I usually associate with those genres.
Of course, at first, I, too, lacked knowledge about various film genres. I vaguely assumed that the film felt unfamiliar simply because it belonged to a genre I wasn’t used to, and I didn’t give it much deeper thought. However, as I studied film genres and gradually came to understand the characteristics of various genres—such as horror, noir, and fantasy—my curiosity about which genre ‘The Kindly Ms. Geum-ja’ actually belonged to naturally grew stronger.
Based on what I’ve learned so far, I believe ‘The Kindly Ms. Geum-ja’ is a film that most closely resembles noir rather than a thriller or a drama. Of course, this does not mean the film lacks elements of thriller or drama. Rather, when considering the overarching theme, atmosphere, character traits, and narrative structure that dominate the film as a whole, the characteristics of film noir are more strongly evident.
So, what exactly is film noir?
“Noir” means “black” in French, and “film noir” literally means “black film.” Although the term originates from French, the background against which film noir emerged as a cinematic movement lies in American Hollywood cinema.
After World War II, a large number of American films—whose screenings had been restricted during the war—were introduced to France. In the process, French critics began to take notice of films that possessed characteristics distinct from earlier classic Hollywood films. Unlike existing films, which emphasized reason, balance, and order and depicted a relatively stable world, these newly spotlighted works prominently featured crime, depravity, cruelty, unhealthy desires, and social deviance.
These films were far more frightening, gloomy, and dark than their predecessors. Rather than reassuring audiences, they made them feel uneasy. Breaking away from the traditional narratives and stylistic conventions of classic Hollywood films—which provided audiences with a sense of stability and direction—these films evoked discomfort, tension, and at times, even anxiety.
Films with these characteristics can be described as film noir. However, there are various opinions on whether film noir should be viewed as a distinct genre or understood as a cinematic trend of a specific era or a particular stylistic form. The criteria used to define the nature of film noir are also diverse.
Typical characteristics include visual imagery such as dark city streets glistening in the rain at night, a rugged and lonely anti-hero falling into the trap of a dangerous femme fatale, and tragic stories centered on crime and murder. The protagonist is often sacrificed or defeated by enemies due to moral weaknesses, and the story frequently ends in death or an unhappy conclusion.
Thus, I believe film noir is not merely a genre centered on crime, but rather possesses key characteristics that reveal human dark nature, societal absurdities, and an unstable moral order.

Attributes of Film Noir Found in ‘The Kindly Ms. Geum-ja’

The main reason I classify ‘The Kindly Ms. Geum-ja’ as a film noir lies in the overarching thematic consciousness and unique atmosphere that permeate the entire work.
Geum-ja, who gave birth at a young age, was wrongfully imprisoned, and now seeks revenge through murder. Then there is Mr. Baek, who kidnaps a child simply to raise money to buy a boat and then kills the child because the child was crying. These two characters are the central figures driving the film forward and are crucial to shaping its thematic core. Their crimes, depravity, and desires for revenge and destruction are the key elements that lead us to view the film through the lens of film noir.
The film’s narrative unfolds in tandem with Geum-ja’s journey to carry out her revenge. After her release from prison, Geum-ja methodically carries out the revenge she has long planned, enlisting the help of fellow inmates who had supported her during her time in prison at each stage of the process.
The first place Geum-ja visits after her release is the home of Kim Yang-hee, a former cellmate. Kim Yang-hee is a woman who had been tormented by guilt after strangling the man she was in a relationship with using his tie. However, after hearing Geum-ja’s advice to be reborn through prayer, she finds a way to overcome her guilt. Out of gratitude, Kim Yang-hee provides Geum-ja—now out of prison—with a place to stay and clothes.
Later, Geum-ja secures a gun to kill Mr. Baek, with the help of fellow inmate Woo So-young, who works at a factory alongside her husband. Woo So-young suffered from chronic kidney failure and felt indebted to Geum-ja for donating one of her kidneys.
In this way, the film unfolds as Geum-ja carries out each step of her revenge plan, receiving help from her former fellow inmates along the way. To explain why they assist her, the narrative frequently flashes back to their time in prison, interweaving scenes of her current quest for revenge with flashbacks of her past life behind bars.
This structure does more than simply explain Geum-ja’s plan for revenge. The meaning of her revenge becomes even more profound as it is revealed that Geum-ja—who is now preparing a brutal murder—was once known as “Kind Ms. Geum-ja” in prison, where she showed kindness to other inmates and treated them with a smile. Ultimately, the kindness she showed to fellow inmates over the course of 13 years was also a meticulous preparation for her revenge against Mr. Baek after her release.
In addition, the film reveals, one by one through narration and flashbacks, the inmates’ dark pasts, criminal histories, and the sense of alienation they endured. I found that this structure possesses characteristics that cannot be explained solely by the tension typical of a standard thriller; rather, it seemed much closer to film noir, which exposes the human psyche and the dark world of crime.
The film ultimately reaches its climax as Geum-ja’s revenge against Mr. Baek is carried out. One can also discern noir elements in Geum-ja’s determination to utterly destroy Mr. Baek.
From a psychoanalytic perspective, women in noir are often portrayed as figures who pose a psychological threat to the male protagonist. While classic Hollywood films generally objectified or devalued women in ways that supported a male-dominated hierarchy and patriarchy, noir often features women who challenge this order.
In particular, the femme fatale does not merely seduce men; she appears as a figure who threatens a man’s power and status or leads him to ruin. Psychoanalytic interpretations sometimes explain this threat from the perspective of symbolic “castration.”
In light of these characteristics of film noir, Geum-ja is an intriguing character. Of course, Geum-ja cannot be completely equated with a typical femme fatale, but she embodies the attributes of a noir female character in that she is not a passive figure who is unilaterally sacrificed by men, but rather someone who directly punishes the men who oppressed and destroyed her.
Geum-ja spent a full 13 years preparing to take revenge on Mr. Baek, who had framed her for the kidnapping and murder of children. And upon confirming that Mr. Baek had murdered several other children in addition to the case she knew about, she gathers the parents of the murdered children in one place and gives them the opportunity to seek revenge as well. Ultimately, Geum-ja goes beyond personally punishing Mr. Baek—the man who brought her misery—and thoroughly destroys him by involving the other victims in her revenge.
I believe the scene of sexual violence at the dining table, one of the most shocking scenes in this film, is also an example that illustrates the characteristics of film noir. The scene where Mr. Baek suddenly rapes his wife without a word while they are eating is a violent act that would be unimaginable in a normal marital relationship.
Film noir tends to expose socially taboo subjects, repressed desires, and abnormal sexual behavior; narratively, it also deviates from the stable and logical structures of conventional films to create a sense of unease and confusion. In that sense, this scene—where an ordinary meal suddenly turns into a sexual assault—shatters the audience’s expectations and creates a sense of noir-like anxiety.
As mentioned earlier, noir is also characterized by its ability to evoke feelings of anxiety and restlessness in the audience. ‘The Kindly Ms. Geum-ja’ is particularly rich in these elements. Representative examples include the scene where the parents of children who were kidnapped and murdered are gathered in one place to watch a videotape showing their children being killed, and the scene where the parents enter one by one to attack Mr. Baek with weapons, causing the scene to be drenched in blood.
These scenes are not shocking merely because they are brutal. What makes them special is that, while the audience understands the victims’ desire for revenge, they simultaneously feel unease and fear upon witnessing that revenge being carried out.
Taking all these elements into account, I believe ‘The Kindly Ms. Geum-ja’ is a work that, while possessing the characteristics of both a thriller and a drama, strongly exhibits the attributes of film noir.

Geum-ja’s Duality and the Guilt That Lingers Even After Revenge

Geum-ja is a complex character who embodies both kindness and cruelty.
After becoming pregnant at a young age, she ended up living with Mr. Baek and was forced to take the blame for the kidnapping and murder he committed, leading her to a tragic life. Though a desire for revenge against Mr. Baek burns like a volcano within Geum-ja’s heart, she rarely reveals it outwardly. On the contrary, in prison, she is known among the other inmates as an endlessly gentle and kind person.
However, Geum-ja cannot be viewed merely as the embodiment of revenge disguised as kindness. This is because, for her, revenge is both a way to repay the suffering she has endured and an attempt to free herself from her sense of guilt.
Geum-ja tries to erase her guilt through revenge, but ultimately, that sense of guilt does not disappear. Although she struggles desperately to find redemption, the film’s final scenes suggest that she has not achieved complete redemption.
The scene where the deceased Won-mo appears before Geum-ja is particularly striking. Won-mo, who had been smoking, suddenly transforms into an adult. Geum-ja tries to say something, but Won-mo covers her mouth. Judging by Won-mo’s cold expression and the atmosphere surrounding the scene, one gets the sense that no matter what excuses or explanations Geum-ja might offer, he has no intention of accepting them.
It seems as if he’s saying, “No matter what you say, I don’t need to listen. You were never saved.”
Was this really the kind of revenge Won-mo had wanted?
Geum-ja took revenge on Mr. Baek, who had ruined her life, and that revenge succeeded exactly as planned. However, that does not mean her guilt over the child’s death disappears. No matter how perfectly revenge is carried out, humans cannot be completely free from their past and their sense of guilt.
The final scene, in which Geum-ja buries her face in a white tofu cake while snow falls around her, also ties into this interpretation. The film seems to imply indirectly that the true solution lies not in destruction through revenge, but in the effort to reclaim the purity symbolized by the white snow and the tofu cake.
In this way, through a revenge drama dealing with a horrific and brutal murder case, Director Park Chan-wook actually raises fundamental questions about revenge itself. Can all suffering truly be resolved simply by succeeding in revenge? Can a person be redeemed by inflicting the same wounds they suffered upon their perpetrator?
Geum-ja is the character who most vividly embodies these questions.

Social Criticism Embodied in Mr. Baek’s Cruelty

Mr. Baek is a man who, while working as an English instructor, kidnaps and murders children. His dual nature is starkly revealed when we contrast the scene of him singing cheerfully with children with a bright, innocent expression with the scene where he suddenly rapes his wife while they are eating.
He keeps the belongings of the children he has kidnapped and murdered as if they were trophies. The sight of him walking around with children’s toys dangling from his cell phone gives a glimpse of just how dehumanizing he is and how he feels no guilt for his crimes.
I believe this character reflects the reality of our society. Today, as more and more people attend college and receive higher education, the number of intellectuals continues to grow. However, it is questionable whether the character education and moral maturity commensurate with this level of education are being properly instilled.
Although Mr. Baek is an English teacher by profession, he lacks even the most basic sense of ethics expected of a human being. This character brutally illustrates the fact that just because someone teaches knowledge does not necessarily mean they are a morally upright person.
It is particularly shocking that Mr. Baek’s motive for kidnapping and murdering the children was simply to raise money to buy a boat. In his prioritization of his own material desires over human life, I sensed that Director Park Chan-wook was strongly criticizing the materialism that pervades our society.
Another interesting point is the fact that Mr. Baek is an English teacher and that Geum-ja’s daughter, Jenny, was adopted into Australia, an English-speaking country. Although these are separate events, it is striking that both are connected to the English language.
Rather than dismissing this as mere coincidence, I felt it could be connected to our society’s tendency to place high value on English-speaking cultures and, at times, to idealize them excessively. Of course, I cannot definitively state that this is the message the film directly conveys, but Mr. Baek’s profession and Jenny’s upbringing do prompt us to reflect once again on this social reality.

Are the police officer and the pastor truly righteous characters?

I also felt a strange sense of unease when observing the police officer’s behavior in this film.
The detective assigned to Geum-ja’s case interrogates her after she turns herself in. During the interrogation, he discovers a crucial clue suggesting she might not be the real culprit. If that’s the case, it would be the police officer’s duty to strive to find the real culprit, even if it delays the resolution of the case.
However, the detective fails to properly investigate these suspicions. It is unclear whether he found further investigation too troublesome or had already given up on uncovering the truth. What is clear is that, as a result, Geum-ja was forced to spend 13 years in prison under false charges.
Even more shocking is that, because the police turned a blind eye to the truth, Mr. Baek’s crimes did not end. The deaths of other children—which could have been prevented had the real culprit been properly identified—continued to occur. Ultimately, the police’s complacency and refusal to face the truth led to a catastrophe far greater than an individual tragedy.
The detective’s behavior during Mr. Baek’s execution is also striking. Not only does he cooperate with the victims’ revenge, but he even explains how to use a weapon to kill his target effectively. In this behavior, it is difficult to recognize the image of the police—who are supposed to exercise public authority and uphold justice.
Of course, it is possible that the detective joined in the revenge out of regret for his past or a sense of guilt. However, that does not mean his actions can be accepted as an embodiment of just public authority. Rather, by depicting even a figure tasked with upholding law and order as participating in personal revenge, the film further blurs the line between justice and violence.
Seeing the police portrayed in this way led me to seriously question whether true justice even exists in our society.
The pastor who appears in the film is also a duplicitous and hypocritical character. Outwardly, he claims to be guiding prisoners onto the right path, but behind the scenes, he exploits them for his own gain. While he speaks of faith and salvation, his actual actions contradict those very teachings.
I believe that through this character, the film metaphorically illustrates the reality of religion, which is gradually becoming tainted by materialistic values. The fact that even a religious figure—who should be guiding people down the right path—exploits others for personal gain is not much different from Mr. Baek’s material desires or the police’s irresponsible attitude.
Ultimately, in this film, not only Geum-ja and Mr. Baek but also the police and the evangelist all display duplicitous behavior. Various members of society who appear normal and righteous on the surface are, in reality, hiding their own desires and contradictions.

People lining up for revenge—was that really the best course of action?

One of the most striking scenes in this film is the sight of the parents of the murdered children lining up to wait for their chance to take revenge on Mr. Baek.
Having gathered after receiving a call from Geum-ja, the parents—each armed with knives, axes, and other weapons—wait their turn to kill Mr. Baek. The very situation—people waiting orderly in line to kill someone—was both bizarre and shocking.
In this scene in particular, Geum-ja goes beyond carrying out her own revenge; she even takes on the role of organizing the order so that the other victims can exact their revenge. The fact that she—who earned the nickname “Kind Ms. Geum-ja” while helping others in prison—is now organizing a waiting line for murder creates a strange irony.
This scene made me think deeply. Is punishing a murderer with murder truly the wisest course of action?
This brings to mind the principle of retaliation in the Code of Hammurabi: “an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.” It is the logic of inflicting the exact same harm on the perpetrator that one has suffered. Of course, the pain and trauma of parents who have lost a beloved child to kidnapping and murder are beyond what anyone else could possibly understand. Telling parents who have lost a child to forgive the perpetrator is also no easy task.
But does that mean allowing one murder to lead to another is a just solution? Would killing Mr. Baek with their own hands truly heal the parents’ pain and trauma?
These questions are closely tied to the central theme that runs throughout the film.
Geum-ja served 13 years in prison for a crime she did not commit, spending those long years preparing her revenge against Mr. Baek. And in the end, she succeeded in her revenge. Yet she was ultimately unable to escape the pain she had endured or the guilt she felt toward Won-mo.
At the moment of carrying out the revenge, the resentment and anger that had built up over time may seem to be resolved. But doing so does not bring the children who are already dead back to life, nor does it erase the wounds that were inflicted.
I wonder if the film created those shocking scenes of parents committing murders one after another precisely to highlight this contradiction. While we can empathize with the desire for revenge, watching the process of that revenge unfold never leaves us feeling at ease.
In this way, ‘The Kindly Ms. Geum-ja’ does not portray revenge as merely a cathartic victory. Rather, even at the moment revenge is consummated, it compels the audience to continue questioning the legitimacy and meaning of the act.

White Snow, Tofu Cake, and the Meaning Behind “Goodbye, Geum-ja”

The film’s final scene shows Geum-ja, crying with her face buried in a tofu cake while white snow falls around her, as her daughter Jenny embraces her from behind. I believe this scene most clearly reveals the film’s central theme.
It conveys the message that responding to a vile act with an equally vile method can never be the path to forgiveness and redemption. Rather, it seems to suggest that the possibility of forgiveness and redemption opens only when one pursues purity as white as fresh snow.
The character to focus on here is Geum-ja’s daughter, Jenny. Jenny, too, harbored feelings of resentment and a desire for revenge toward Geum-ja, whom she believed had abandoned her. This revelation comes as yet another shock to Geum-ja.
Geum-ja must have believed she was the greatest victim. She had been wrongfully accused and imprisoned for 13 years, and she had to live apart from her beloved daughter. Therefore, she likely believed that killing Mr. Baek—the man who had brought all this misfortune upon her—would allow her to overcome the suffering she had endured.
However, Geum-ja failed to realize that she, too, could become the object of her daughter’s resentment and desire for revenge.
From Geum-ja’s perspective, her life was a tragedy destroyed by someone else’s crime. However, from Jenny’s perspective, the very fact that she had to grow up separated from the mother who gave birth to her was another wound in itself. The fact that while Geum-ja was fixated solely on her own suffering, her daughter had also been living with her own pain and resentment makes the nature of their relationship a cause for rethinking the meaning of revenge.
Yet, at the very end of the film, Jenny embraces Geum-ja from behind. The embrace Jenny offers as Geum-ja weeps with her face buried in a tofu cake while snow falls suggests that the resentment and conflict that had built up between them over the years might gradually begin to dissolve.
I believe this scene holds far greater significance than Geum-ja’s successful act of revenge.
Geum-ja believed that killing Mr. Baek would put an end to her suffering, but through her encounter with Won-mo, she realizes that revenge cannot erase her sense of guilt. When Geum-ja tried to say something, Won-mo covered her mouth—a gesture that brought to mind the issue of forgiveness, something that cannot be easily attained even through revenge.
In contrast, the scene where Jenny embraces Geum-ja at the end suggests a slightly different possibility. It suggests that a fresh start is possible not through revenge, but through the process of understanding and accepting each other’s wounds.
This meaning is also connected to the narration “Goodbye, Geum-ja” that closes the film.
I don’t think this phrase is merely a farewell to the protagonist. It seems to convey that Geum-ja—who had long sought to rid herself of guilt and resentment through revenge—is now bidding farewell to her past self and moving toward a new life.
The white snow, the white tofu cake, and Jenny’s embrace further clarify this interpretation. They symbolically depict Geum-ja breaking free from the desire for revenge she had clung to until then and beginning a new life.
Of course, this does not mean Geum-ja has been completely redeemed. As revealed in her encounter with Won-mo, her sense of guilt cannot vanish in an instant. However, at least in the final scene, we can see her making a move to break free from the Geum-ja of the past who was obsessed with revenge.
In that sense, the final line, “Goodbye, Geum-ja,” feels less like a celebration of the completion of her revenge and more like a farewell to the Geum-ja who was once consumed by it.
It was also very striking that the scene concluding this brutal revenge drama featured white snow and an embrace rather than blood and violence. Perhaps because the film had previously depicted so much violence and so many dark scenes, the white imagery at the end carried even greater significance.

The Allure of Film Noir Discovered Through ‘The Kindly Ms. Geum-ja’

Analyzing this film allowed me to gain many insights. Among them, the greatest takeaway was discovering the unique allure of the film noir genre.
As we’ve seen, the main characters in ‘The Kindly Ms. Geum-ja’ all possess their own dualities. But why did they come to embody such duality?
An English teacher who seems to lack nothing kidnaps and murders young children. Geum-ja, who planned her revenge to rid herself of her guilt, ultimately becomes complicit in yet another murder. The police, who should be uncovering the truth, fail to identify the real culprit, while religious figures—who should serve as beacons of social ethics—exploit others for material gain.
All of these portrayals starkly reveal the dark reality of the era in which we live.
On the surface, society appears normal and orderly. Yet beneath that façade lie desires, corruption, violence, and hypocrisy that are not easily revealed. I found the strong appeal of film noir in the way it sharply highlights these aspects that society is reluctant to expose publicly.
The overarching theme that runs through the entire film was also quite impressive. Of course, it is a work that features many cruel and violent scenes. However, I believe that these scenes serve not merely to shock the audience, but as important devices to clearly convey the film’s theme. That’s why I didn’t mind the abundance of violent depictions per se.
On the contrary, the more brutally the process of revenge is depicted, the more seriously the audience is compelled to contemplate the meaning of revenge. While empathizing with Geum-ja’s actions, one begins to doubt whether they are truly the right solution; and while feeling a sense of satisfaction at seeing Mr. Baek punished, one doesn’t feel completely relieved. I believe it is precisely these contradictory emotions that make this film even more special.
“The Kindly Ms. Geum-ja” is a film that was difficult to grasp immediately upon first viewing, but the more I reflect on it, the more new layers of meaning I discover. Personally, I consider it an adventurous and progressive work that demonstrates new possibilities for the noir genre in Korean cinema.
Above all, this film made me realize that the act of revenge is not simply a matter of punishing the perpetrator. Geum-ja succeeded in her revenge, which she had prepared for many years, but she was unable to completely escape the guilt that had tormented her. The scene where the victims’ parents take justice into their own hands also helped me understand their pain, yet left me wondering whether that was truly a way to heal their wounds.
Furthermore, the final scene—in which Geum-ja buries her face in a tofu cake while the white snow falls, and Jenny embraces her—led me to reflect on the need to confront one’s wounds through means other than revenge.
Ultimately, ‘The Kindly Ms. Geum-ja’ is a film about revenge, yet it simultaneously reveals the limits of revenge. It was a work that fully captured the allure of film noir by depicting human desire and depravity, societal absurdities, and the issues of guilt and redemption in a brutal yet unique way.
For me—whose knowledge of film genres had previously been limited to romance and action—gaining an understanding of film noir, a new and fascinating genre, was a truly great achievement. I hope to continue exploring a wider variety of film genres and learning about their characteristics and meanings.
And if I ever watch ‘The Kindly Ms. Geum-ja’ again, I wonder how the shock I felt when I first saw it and the meanings I’ve discovered through analysis will strike me differently. Since it cannot be easily understood or summarized after a single viewing, and because it leaves me with food for thought even long after watching, ‘The Kindly Ms. Geum-ja’ is a film that will remain in my memory for a long time.