In this blog post, I will examine the evolution of Korean crime films from the 1960s through 2012 and discuss how these films—focusing on major works such as ‘Public Enemy’, ‘Memories of Murder’, ‘A Tale of Crime’, ‘The Chaser’, ‘Mother’, and ‘Unjust Deal’—have reflected changes in Korean society and the public’s sentiments.

The Birth and Development of Korean Crime Films, and Their Evolution Toward Reflecting Contemporary Realities

In Korea, the crime film genre is not typically regarded as a standalone category but is often grouped with other similar genres, such as “crime action,” “crime drama,” and “crime thriller.” After the 2000s, Korean crime films appeared to stall briefly at first, but around 2005, as the annual number of Korean films produced increased and the range of genres diversified, production began to pick up more vigorously than before.
Even before that, films classified as crime genres—such as gangster films, film noir, and detective films produced abroad, including in Hollywood—were steadily imported into Korea. However, in many cases, these films did not achieve significant box office success in Korea compared to their success in their countries of origin. Of course, this could be because the subject matter of crime films itself lacks the novelty found in other genres, or because they lack the flashy action that delights audiences. However, I believe the more fundamental reason lies in the issues of realism and empathy. One of the most important elements in a film is the extent to which the audience can become immersed in it. The criteria by which audiences evaluate a film can vary greatly depending on the degree of empathy they feel toward the characters and situations, and the resulting level of immersion.
So, what genre best showcases Korean politics, history, and society with Korean protagonists? I believe it is the crime film. In some ways, crime films are similar to documentaries. This is because Korean crime films do not merely align well with the Korean sensibility—they appeal directly to it. Similarly, it is only natural that American crime films, which accurately reflect the sensibilities of American society, resonate with domestic audiences. However, when a film steps outside its own cultural context, its acceptance ultimately depends on the receptiveness of audiences in other cultural spheres.
Korean crime films were not a mainstream genre from the start. In the 1960s and 1970s, they were so rare that only one or two were produced each year. At the time, melodramas with strong sentimental tendencies dominated the box office, and crime films—which dealt with the darker side of society—were largely shunned by audiences seeking to escape their difficult realities through cinema. Directed by Shim Woo-seop and starring Choi Mu-ryong, ‘The Woman in the Black Gloves’ (1962) can be considered one of the early works to embody the framework of modern crime noir, featuring a protagonist entangled with unscrupulous businessmen and a female character with strong “femme fatale” traits. However, it is difficult to find clear records regarding its box office performance at the time.
In 1973, ‘The Ghost of the Black Night’ by director Jeong Chang-hwa—famous for ‘The Five Fingers of Death’—was released. Jeong Chang-hwa is also known as a director who influenced Quentin Tarantino. ‘The Ghost of the Black Night’ was produced after Director Jeong Chang-hwa moved his base of operations to the Hong Kong film studio Golden Harvest, and a young Sammo Hung appeared in a supporting role. Founded in Hong Kong in 1970, Golden Harvest grew into a studio synonymous with Hong Kong cinema of the 1970s and 1980s, working with numerous action stars such as Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan, and Sammo Hung.
‘The Night Stalker’ tells the story of a poor fisherman who accidentally comes into possession of gold bars belonging to the underworld and ends up in a chase with Japanese soldiers. Built on a typical crime film plot, it features a variety of action sequences, including hand-to-hand combat, gunfights, water-based action involving motorboats, and car chases. For its time, it was a rare large-scale crime action film. Generally, the more visual spectacle a film offers, the simpler the story tends to become; however, ‘Black Night, Strange Guest’ neatly conveys a moral tale of good triumphing over evil—specifically, the defeat of the Japanese army—within a simple and clear structure. While it deserves recognition as a highly polished genre film, it is regrettable that it fell significantly short of the box office success of its predecessor, ‘Five Fingers of Death’.
Director Jeong Chang-hwa is a figure who deserves special attention in the history of Korean crime cinema. As one of the pioneers who led the expansion of Korean cinema into international markets, he had a significant influence not only on the action genre but also on crime films. His debut film, ‘The Last Temptation’, which depicts a conflict among smugglers, is often cited as the progenitor of the Korean crime thriller. He had little interest in the melodramas that were mainstream at the time and sought to create films that could breathe new life into a bleak era. The film that left a strong impression on him was director George Stevens’ Western ‘Shane’. The films ‘Horizon’ and ‘Gold Rush’ were created based on that influence.
Director Jeong Chang-hwa can be described as a filmmaker who demonstrated a distinct genre orientation early on in Korea. ‘No Da Ji’ tells the story of a man who has devoted his life to searching for gold dust. As he sets out to find the son of a former colleague, he becomes entangled in a crisis involving his daughter—who has fallen into a life of pickpocketing—and the boss of a back-alley crime syndicate who is after her money. It is also an action film that blends the narrative structure of a melodrama with the style of film noir, featuring duel scenes throughout. ‘Horizon’ was likewise a rare blockbuster for its time and one of the films that pioneered the so-called “Manchurian Western” genre.
Later, in 1980, director Im Kwon-taek’s ‘Jjakko’ was released. While its artistic merit was high, its box office performance was disappointing. In the early 1990s, films like ‘The Scissors Woman’, ‘The Emperor of Dunhuang’, and ‘The Woman Who Walks Backward’ emerged, focusing more on erotic elements than on crime itself. In 1995, ’48+1′, based on the original work by Heo Young-man, was released. Although it was a gambling-themed film that could be linked to the later ‘Tazza’, it failed at the box office due to its sloppy structure and acting.
Just because the 2000s had begun did not mean that crime films immediately gained critical acclaim or achieved popular success. However, films began to emerge one after another that broke away from the previously dominant Korean and folk-oriented themes: ‘Jakarta’, which followed the format of Hollywood crime films; ‘A New Kind of Crime’, which adapted the conventions of foreign genre films into a Korean context; and ‘Memories of Murder’, which created an entirely new Korean style. These changes laid the foundation for the subsequent leap forward in Korean crime cinema.

2000–2004: First-Time Offenders with No Prior Record

Perhaps due to the hopeful atmosphere surrounding the dawn of the 21st century, there weren’t many films that explicitly identified as traditional crime films during this period. However, a handful of films did make their mark. First among these is Director Jeong Cho-shin’s ‘Jakarta’. While the film took a gamble by combining crime, comedy, and plot twists, it somewhat failed to achieve the tightly structured composition characteristic of crime films, often falling short of merely imitating the genre’s atmosphere. It also suffered the misfortune of being compared to Guy Ritchie’s ‘Snatch’, released around the same time, due to similarities in plot and tone. On the other hand, it was a commendable attempt in that it sought to appropriately infuse Hollywood-style crime films with Korean sensibilities. In 2008, Director Jeong Cho-shin pushed to produce “Jakarta 2,” but the project was halted due to various issues.
In 2002, two films with diametrically opposed characteristics were released: “Public Enemy” and “Revenge Is Mine.” ‘Public Enemy’ was the film that found box-office success. This movie introduced “Kang Cheol-joong,” an unprecedented and unconventional character. The unflinching portrayal of the shocking subject matter—parricide—was also striking. I remember being quite shocked when I first saw this film.
Starting in the late 1990s, as public interest in brutal criminal cases grew, so did the general public’s sense of anxiety. At the same time, distrust in the police and public authorities—perceived as failing to prevent crime or swiftly punish perpetrators—was gradually mounting. I believe the explicit depiction of Jo Gyu-hwan’s brutal criminal acts in ‘Public Enemy’ demonstrated just how much society’s tolerance for such shock had diminished. Along with this zeitgeist, the appearance of Kang Cheol-joong—who could be considered the archetype of the so-called “hard-boiled detective”—played a decisive role in the film’s box office success. It was a tremendous success for a crime genre film.
If ‘Public Enemy’ is a film that pulses with intense energy, ‘Revenge Is Mine’ is a cold and static one. However, in terms of the intensity of its portrayal, it could even be said to surpass ‘Public Enemy’. However, unlike ‘Public Enemy’, which has a clear structure of rewarding good and punishing evil, ‘Vengeance Is Mine’ makes it difficult to empathize with any of the characters. Because of this, it can be argued that the film failed to connect with a wide audience. It’s reasonable to surmise that, at the time, characters like Kang Cheol-joong—who pursued their own path with unwavering determination—gained more support from audiences than complex, multi-layered characters.
In 2003, a film was released that transcended the crime genre and would be long remembered in the history of Korean cinema: Director Bong Joon-ho’s ‘Memories of Murder’. Unusually for a crime thriller at the time, it drew over 5 million viewers and also reignited public interest in the real-life Hwaseong serial murder case.
I believe a good genre film is one that successfully blends the conventions of the genre with the director’s unique vision. In that sense, I think ‘Memories of Murder’ is a prime example of a good genre film. The reason this film holds a special place even within the crime genre is not only due to its artistic excellence but also because the questions it raises differ slightly from those posed by typical genre films.
Most crime films follow a pattern where a crime occurs, an investigation unfolds, the case is either solved or the scale of the crime gradually escalates, and the film concludes with a moral resolution or a plot twist. However, ‘Memories of Murder’ focuses on a crime that occurs and the attempts to solve it, while “something” constantly hinders the investigation. That “something” could be the social climate of the time, or it could be the unstructured order of state authority. Regardless, “Memories of Murder” takes a deeper look at a society unable to solve a crime rather than at the crime itself. I believe this film, which offers a sober yet incisive critique of Korean society at the time, provides a clear answer to the question of what role a crime film can play.
In 2004, the classic crime film “A Tale of Crime” was released. Director Choi Dong-hoon, who has steadily built a track record in crime films—exploring gambling in ‘The Gambler’ and overseas heists in ‘The Thieves’—already delivered an outstanding genre film with his debut, ‘A Tale of Crime’. He drew audiences in with a compelling narrative while meticulously incorporating all the essential elements of a crime film: a complex, twisted plot, distinctive characters, and plot twists. It also achieved significant box office success.
Another significance of ‘Crime Reconstruction’ in the history of Korean cinema is that it presented the true prototype of the “Korean-style heist film.” Heist films, also known as caper films, are movies centered on the process by which a group plans and executes a crime to steal or seize a specific object or property. They are characterized by complex structures and multiple plot twists, and they depict in detail everything from the planning stage to the execution of the crime and the escape. Characters who thwart the plan or force the criminals to pay the price for their crimes often appear along the way. Notable examples of foreign films in this genre include ‘Reservoir Dogs’ and the ‘Ocean’s Eleven’ series.
“Reconstruction of a Crime” draws its inspiration from the real-life Bank of Korea check fraud case. The forgery of demand checks and the methods used in the crime depicted in the film are adapted from the actual incident, lending credibility to a story that might otherwise seem far-fetched. However, there is one key difference: in the real case, stolen demand checks were used rather than forged ones. In the film, Choi Chang-hyuk plays a character who swindles swindlers and lives by the motto, “Life is all about that one big shot.” He taps into the psychology of audiences dreaming of striking it rich overnight, like winning the lottery, and—despite being a criminal—makes himself appear almost heroic. Audiences living uncertain lives amid an economic downturn were likely able to temporarily forget that reality while watching the film.

2005–2009: High-Crime Zones

Starting in 2005, as the number of Korean films produced increased, crime genre films also began to be produced more actively. Notable works from this period include ‘Princess Aurora’, ‘June Diary’, ‘Blood Rain’, and ‘Mr. Socrates’. These films each combined elements of thriller, drama, and action, with ‘Princess Aurora’ and ‘Blood Rain’ achieving relatively notable box office success.
‘Princess Aurora’, which features a female serial killer as its central character, depicts the protagonist’s process of committing murders and covering her tracks in a meticulous and rational manner. However, as the motive for the crimes is revealed and the film approaches its conclusion, the emotional tone grows increasingly intense, creating a significant shift in the film’s atmosphere. This may be because the director’s intended message becomes more strongly evident as the story nears its end. On the other hand, this period can also be seen as the process by which a convention—namely, endowing a ruthless killer with a tragic backstory—began to take root in Korean crime thrillers and eventually solidified into a standard trope.
‘Blood Rain’ is a work that combines historical drama and crime thriller, essentially taking the form of a mystery. Despite receiving an “Adults Only” rating due to its brutal and realistic depictions, it achieved the highest box office success among crime films of that era. While maintaining the structure of a typical mystery, elements of romance and horror gradually emerge within it, and foreshadowing for plot twists is skillfully placed throughout, resulting in a solid overall narrative. In particular, the film fundamentally subverts the structure of conventional mystery films in that the investigator tracking the case reveals his own latent guilt and trauma as he gets closer to the truth—and ultimately ends up concealing it.
However, as the culprit’s identity is revealed and the case nears its conclusion, the film—which had been unfolding logically—suddenly becomes engulfed in fear and madness stemming from original sin, culminating in scenes drenched in blood, which leaves a sense of disappointment. This is because it stands in stark contrast to the rational and logical atmosphere maintained up to that point. This appears to be the result of superstitious elements—often seen in Korean cinema, particularly in historical dramas. While visually terrifying, it is a disappointing aspect from the perspective of genre integrity.
In 2006, two films that garnered attention for different reasons were released. First, ‘Holiday’, based on a true story, dealt with the Ji Kang-heon case, famous for the cry, “Guilty if you’re rich, innocent if you’re poor.” While the film garnered attention commensurate with the social impact of the actual case, it did not achieve significant box-office success. I believe the reason for this was that the film drifted into being overly emotional, losing the objectivity it should have maintained to some extent. Rather than meticulously following the criminal activities and depicting the conflicts among the characters involved, it focused too heavily on appealing to emotions; as a result, it was difficult to shake the impression that the characters were being glorified. This is why audiences, even as they tried to empathize, soon felt a sense of repulsion.
Of course, social commentary is also one of the important roles that crime films can fulfill. However, the moment the message overwhelms the film itself, the film easily loses its way within the genre. Even if ‘Holiday’ did not aim to be a typical genre film, the real-life incident on which it is based is highly dramatic in and of itself. In particular, viewers who remember the live broadcasts of the incident at the time would have expected the film to deliver a corresponding level of tension and cinematic thrills. Yet, if the film lacks the intensity of the actual news footage that covered the incident, that is clearly a cinematic shortcoming.
In contrast, ‘Tazza’, released during the Chuseok season that same year, was a massive success, ranking third in box office earnings among Korean films that year. ‘Tazza’ does not confine itself to the single genre of crime but masterfully combines elements of buddy movies, action, romance, and film noir. Given that many of its characters possess distinct personalities, it stands up well as a character-driven film.
Unlike the gambling film “Q”—which appears to have been influenced by the aforementioned “48+1” and “The Color of Money” but failed at the box office because it couldn’t shake off its rough, Korean-style sensibilities—“Tazza” elegantly portrays the ugliness of gambling while poignantly capturing the plight of those ensnared by it. Director Choi Dong-hoon refined the film with such precision in his own unique style that it feels as though it surpasses ‘God of Gamblers’, once considered a masterpiece of Hong Kong gambling cinema.
In 2007, the crime thriller ‘Seven Days’ was released, clearly reflecting the changes in the media landscape and visual styles of the time. Directed by Won Shin-yeon, this film sophisticatedly incorporated the “American TV drama style”—which was popular at the time—through fast-paced editing and visually stunning cinematography. Despite several legal inaccuracies and a plot that occasionally felt contrived, the film—which uses maternal love as a means of original sin and retribution—resonated with audiences as both a mystery and a crime thriller, and was a box-office success.
The dilemma faced by the protagonist, lawyer Ji-yeon, is particularly striking. Ji-yeon, who boasts a high win rate, is forced to take on a case that could break her winning streak and finds herself in a situation where she must prioritize the safety of her kidnapped daughter over the truth of the case. However, observing Ji-yeon’s actions reveals a significant disconnect between her professional role as a lawyer and her moral obligations. She drugs a witness who testifies against her, rendering the witness unconscious, and even in situations where the perpetrator’s guilt seems obvious, she attempts to secure an acquittal by framing the case with plausible logic. Her maternal instincts as a mother clash with her duty as a legal professional to uncover the truth.
I believe Ji-yeon’s character serves as one of the archetypes for similar “police-style” protagonists who appeared later. Protagonists who, for whatever reason, act outside the normal order of the police or public authorities usually possess personal flaws, moral dilemmas, or latent guilt. In that Ji-yeon also exhibits these characteristics, she can be considered one of the best-developed protagonists among the crime thrillers of that era.
A film that lies in the direct lineage of this trend is ‘The Chaser’, released in 2008. ‘The Chaser’ ushered in a full-fledged renaissance of Korean crime films and, at the same time, influenced the rise of the “psychopath” character archetype in the genre. The film is known to have drawn inspiration from the case of serial killer Yu Young-chul.
The protagonist, Eom Joong-ho, is a former detective who now makes a living as a pimp—a classic “pseudo-police” type. He can be seen as the archetype for the many “pseudo-cop” characters that appeared afterward. Although he initially acts in his own self-interest, his actions are gradually driven by guilt and a sense of responsibility to prevent innocent victims from being harmed. As a film that deals specifically with a serial killer, the depiction of the crimes committed by the suspect is crucial; “The Chaser” masterfully balances detailed depictions with appropriate omissions to navigate the line where the audience might feel repulsed.
The film also depicts police officers who, instead of solving the case, attempt to cover it up. This cynically exposes police incompetence and distrust in authority while simultaneously raising awareness about the safety of women, who are often socially vulnerable. However, Eom Joong-ho, who seeks to bring the killer Ji Young-min to justice, is not a perfectly virtuous character either. He is simply less evil than Ji Young-min. Eom Joong-ho cannot shake the guilt he feels for having driven Mi-jin into the hands of a murderer. This drives him to search for her even more desperately. In crime thrillers, guilt and a sense of culpability often serve as the driving force behind the actions of protagonists who are police-like figures. It is a sad reality.
While ‘The Chaser’ stood out in particular in 2008, 2009 saw the emergence of notable crime films, each in its own way. The first among them is ‘Operation’, which tackles stock fraud head-on. True to its title—which refers to the practice of manipulating stock prices—the film unfolds its story by thoughtfully explaining the methods of the crime to audiences unfamiliar with the stock market. While there are moments when this explanatory approach feels a bit excessive, I recall it successfully conveying an unfamiliar subject in an accessible way while still offering its own cinematic appeal.
The second film, ‘Insadong Scandal’, is exactly what the title suggests: a movie about an antique art scam centered in Insadong. It showcases the intricately intertwined human desires surrounding a single piece of art, while also displaying the hallmarks of a heist film. However, it’s a shame that the film tends to become overly explanatory as it progresses toward the second half, likely due to an excessive focus on the plot twist.
The third film is ‘The Turtle Runs’, a crime comedy with a slightly different tone from the previous two. This film also features a protagonist who is a sort of “pseudo-cop”; he finds himself in a similar predicament to corrupt or incompetent police officers, or those who have lost their positions while investigating cases. Loosely inspired by the case of escaped convict Shin Chang-won, this film focuses less on the breathless thrills of a cat-and-mouse chase and more on depicting the protagonist and the police as helpless victims who are repeatedly outmaneuvered and left fuming. While it has its own foreshadowing and plot, the overall tone is rather laid-back. Yet, that very laid-back quality actually fits the film’s narrative quite well.
The fourth is ‘Mother’, which capped off the 2009 crime film season. This film exemplifies the archetype of a gloomy and suffocating crime thriller. While bringing the theme of maternal love—which also appeared in ‘Princess Aurora’ and ‘Seven Days’—to the forefront, it explores a form of maternal love that becomes abnormally twisted and ultimately descends into madness. Because the ending makes it difficult to distinguish whether it’s a happy or sad ending for the characters, various interpretations circulated among audiences.
In ‘Mother’, the differing perspectives of the characters on the crime serve as a decisive element of the film. To Do-jun, who is framed as the culprit, the incident is merely a bizarre and grim affair. However, to his mother, it is a heartbreaking and despairing scene, while to Jin-tae, it is a golden opportunity to turn the situation to his advantage. Conversely, for the victim, it is a hellish landscape from which there is no escape. As these differing perspectives view a single incident, subtle points of divergence emerge.
Within this divergence, two crimes—Do-jun’s and his mother’s—are concealed. At the same time, the yoke of a murderer—one that seems impossible to ever shake off—shifts from Do-jun to his mother. The uneasy feeling I had upon leaving the theater after watching ‘Mother’ and the meaning behind the line “Where’s Mom?” have lingered in my mind for a long time. In that sense, I believe ‘Mother’ is a true “non-genre genre film” that faithfully follows the conventions of the genre while simultaneously transcending its boundaries.

2010–2012: The Transition Period

Looking at the major crime films released in 2010 and 2011, a significant number feature protagonists who are police officers or exhibit similar traits. This was also the period when films rooted in distrust of the police reached their peak and gradually began to shift in a different direction. I believe ‘The Client’ is the film that most clearly illustrates this change.
Films that represented the peak of the previous trend include ‘Unfair Deal’, ‘I Saw the Devil’, ‘No Mercy’, and ‘Children…’. ‘Unfair Deal’, in particular, brutally depicts how social justice crumbles through the collusion between corrupt police and criminal organizations, as well as the corruption of the prosecutorial power that looms over them. On the surface, all of them are in positions meant to uphold justice and are implicated in similar corruption, but the corruption within the prosecution—which lurks behind the corrupt police—is never fully exposed in the film. Ultimately, only the police and the criminal organization, defeated in the power hierarchy, meet a tragic end.
At the time, the issue of prosecutorial corruption caused such a major social uproar—coinciding with the film’s release—that it even gave rise to the derogatory term “rice cake prosecutors.” Witnessing events that seemed like something straight out of a movie unfolding in reality made one wonder whether a film like this could even be released. ‘Unfair Deal’ is also significant in that it moved away from sensationalist and exploitative themes—such as serial killings or sexual assault—to directly address the corruption of power and structural issues in society. I believe that the box-office success of this socially critical crime film has further broadened the scope of Korean crime cinema.
In contrast, ‘The Client’ breaks away from the trend of protagonists modeled after police officers and is a film that relies solely on “the law” to solve the case. Legal procedures and rational judgment take center stage in the story, rather than emotions or personal revenge. The protagonist, a lawyer, is a man who once faced a case that shook his convictions; he is now a renowned attorney with an impressive win rate. The client he represents has been identified as the prime suspect based solely on circumstantial evidence, and the prosecution is relentlessly pursuing a conviction.
As the lawyer reconstructs the case, uncovers new clues, and gradually uncovers unexpected connections one by one, he draws closer to the truth—or at least to what he wants to believe is the truth. Rather than the moral guilt or sense of sin commonly found in protagonists of previous crime films, he is driven by a strict professional ethic: doing everything in his power for his client. As a result, he might come across as a somewhat didactic or one-dimensional character. However, the film overcomes this shortcoming to some extent because the personalities of the three central characters are relatively well-defined. While there are some loose ends in the handling of the investigation and courtroom battles, and the plot occasionally relies on unconvincing coincidences, it is a film that easily draws the audience in for its entire two-hour runtime.
Thus, over the course of about a decade starting in the early 2000s, Korean crime films experienced a leap forward and a renaissance, and have now entered a transitional phase in which they are once again seeking new directions. As the saying goes, “Even mountains and rivers change in ten years”; perhaps it is only natural for crime films—whose most important role is to reflect society—to transform in response to the changing times.
However, I believe Korean crime films still need to expand their scope. Irrational and brutal crimes continue to plague our society. Whenever films like ‘The Crucible’ or ‘The Chaser’ are released, society at least makes an effort to reexamine the issues raised within them. Since crime films do more than merely provide entertainment or sensational spectacle—they force us to confront realities we’d rather ignore—such efforts should become even more common.
On the other hand, however, I also hope that the social problems these films are meant to expose will one day disappear entirely—to the point where crime films can no longer be made. While the development and diversification of crime films is welcome, the fact that these films can constantly draw material from reality is by no means a cause for celebration. Ultimately, looking back on the history of Korean crime films is also a way of reflecting on the path Korean society has taken. This is because the crimes depicted in these films—and the characters within them—go beyond mere fiction to reflect the anxieties and contradictions of the society in which we have lived.