In this blog post, I’ll examine the meaning of horror and the essence of fear as portrayed in ‘The Ghost Story of a Girls’ High School: Part Two’, and discuss the relationship between Hyo-shin and Si-eun, the oppression that takes place within the collective environment of the school, the unique direction that blurs the lines between reality and fantasy, and the bittersweet emotions this film leaves behind even years later.
- What Is a Horror Movie?
- Korean-Style Horror and 'The Ghost Story of a High School Girl: Part 2'
- Hyoshin, Si-eun, and the Horror Created by Their Relationship
- Oppression, Guilt, and Death We Must Remember
- Love and Relationships: Two People Who Ultimately Drift Apart
- A Dreamlike Plot and the School as Another Leading Character
- A Film That Endures Over Time, and Its Limitations
What Is a Horror Movie?
What is a horror movie? Thriller, splatter, occult, slasher… As with any genre, horror is one that can be divided into minute subgenres, yet it’s also a genre where the line defining what constitutes horror is ambiguous. Therefore, defining a horror movie is no easy task. However, for now, we’ll refer to any genre that evokes fear in us as “horror.”
So where does human fear come from? Human fear stems from the strangeness of the unknown, bizarre phenomena that transcend human reason and power, anxiety about change arising from the threat of the existing order being overturned, a premonition that we might lose what is precious to us, rejection and betrayal in relationships—along with the despair and anger they provoke—a reactive fear toward those oppressed by ourselves and society, the fear that an unspecified someone might harm me, and physical pain. These myriad fears are woven into horror films in countless ways, unleashing the fears we have repressed and buried deep in our unconscious and satisfying our instinctive desire for fear.
Why do we watch horror? Although we experience and express countless fears throughout our lives, they are neatly tucked away somewhere in our unconscious through the well-trained filter of reason that we acquire through socialization. Horror movies release and purge the desires associated with the fears we have repressed—or that have been repressed in us—allowing us to experience catharsis.
Behold. This is the true nature of what you’ve been dreading, what you’ve been afraid of. Scream and be afraid to your heart’s content. Or wasn’t this exactly what you wanted to destroy and inflict pain upon? Find vicarious satisfaction. After all, these things are being brutally destroyed on screen. But since it’s nothing more than a fictional fantasy, there’s no need for it to encroach on reality and bring the unconscious into consciousness. As a fictional construct, it relieves our repressed guilt and destructive urges without making us feel guilty. What a wonderful genre it is!
Horror can be broadly divided into two categories: horror that deals with fear of supernatural and spiritual beings, and horror that deals with fear stemming from gory, physical tension and pain. The former is further subdivided into films featuring Eastern vengeful spirits, such as ‘The Ring’, and films featuring Western demons, such as ‘The Omen’. Films featuring Eastern vengeful spirits often interpret ghosts not as absolute evil but as beings imbued with a sense of grievance, frequently exploring how the resentment of the socially marginalized becomes a source of terror. In contrast, films featuring Western demons differ in that the evil portrayed is absolute evil from a Christian perspective—that is, entities like Satan.
Examples of the latter include ‘Scream’, ‘The Texas Chainsaw Massacre’, and ‘I Know What You Did Last Summer’, which feature serial killers or psychopaths as the sources of fear rather than ghosts, focusing on instinctive, physically felt fear rather than psychological dread stemming from the supernatural. Western horror also includes many films that straddle the line between the two. While they may feature supernatural beings as the source of fear, the nature of that fear is often instinctive and animalistic, stemming from physical tension and pain. For example, occult films featuring monsters such as zombies, vampires, and werewolves would fall into this category.
Furthermore, the category of horror inevitably becomes ambiguous depending on whether it is defined as “any film that evokes fear” or “a film whose purpose is to evoke fear.” If every film that evokes fear is considered a horror film, the category of horror would expand significantly to include film noir, thrillers, and art films. Conversely, if we define horror films as only those made specifically to instill fear, many films previously classified as horror would face confusion regarding their identity.
In my personal opinion, films classified as horror—such as ‘The Ghost Story of a High School Girl: Part 2’ or ‘The Red Shoes’—are closer to thriller dramas that use fear as a prop rather than horror films intended to instill fear. Since the boundaries are inevitably blurred due to the nature of the genre, I believe its definition can also vary depending on the situational context.
Korean-Style Horror and ‘The Ghost Story of a High School Girl: Part 2’
Korean horror films fall into the category of fear of supernatural and spiritual entities, specifically the fear of Eastern vengeful spirits. While recent works have crossed these boundaries through various creative approaches, the root of Korean horror undoubtedly lies in the fear of vengeful spirits. In that sense, “High School Ghost Story” is a famous horror film series known to virtually every Korean and can be said to follow the authentic tradition of Korean horror.
“High School Ghost Story” first appeared in 1998, reigniting the Korean horror film scene and becoming a box-office success. It was followed by “High School Ghost Story: The Second Story,” “High School Ghost Story: The Third Story—The Fox Stairs,” “High School Ghost Story 4: The Voice,” and “High School Ghost Story 5: Suicide Pact.” The brand power of this series is so strong that “High School Ghost Story” is the first thing that comes to mind when people think of Korean horror. Consequently, even though many horror films commonly deal with themes such as all-girls high schools, female students, bullying, friendships, betrayal, and love-hate relationships, films bearing the “High School Ghost Story” title—regardless of their casting or artistic merit—were able to achieve significant success in marketing and promotion.
The first film carried on the legacy of Korean horror cinema following ‘Moonlit Cemetery’; although its stylistic techniques and message were somewhat crude and extreme, it was a box-office success. In particular, it generated a significant response for incorporating criticism of the realities of schools and education at the time within the framework of a horror film.
The second film, ‘High School Ghost Story 2’, was directed with themes and stylistic techniques entirely different from the first installment. While the predecessor focused on rebellion against social systems and the masses, the projection of repressed selves, and reconciliation and resolution, the sequel blended social oppression with a focus on the complex, subtly repressed emotions stemming from an individual’s inner repressed sensibilities and interpersonal relationships.
In fact, even at the time, this film was regarded as a work that, unlike its predecessor, focused on the love and relationships among girls within the school setting, as well as the psychology of adolescence.
Although the second installment was ultimately a box-office flop, its unique cult appeal has allowed it to cultivate a dedicated fan base over the years. It recorded an audience of 148,151 at the time of its release and continues to be consistently discussed as a film that occupies a unique place in the history of Korean horror cinema. Furthermore, the third, fourth, and fifth installments each continued the “High School Ghost Story” franchise with different themes and approaches. While some films took a different direction from the first and second installments, there was also criticism that, as the series continued, it repeatedly relied on the stereotypical image of a high school girl ghost and served as a launching pad for new actors. Nevertheless, it is worth acknowledging that each film sought to demonstrate different possibilities in its approach to subject matter and storytelling, and the ways in which the “High School Ghost Story” franchise has evolved over time are fascinating in their own right.
‘High School Ghost Story: The Second Tale’, also known as ‘Memento Mori’, is the second installment in the series and a horror film centered on the story of an Eastern-style vengeful spirit. Unlike its predecessor, it did not achieve significant box office success and was released on December 24, 1999—Christmas Eve. However, it is still remembered as one of the most unique entries in the series and, despite its box office performance, has cultivated a strong following among fans.
There are reasons why this film—which is quite sophisticated, neither overly explicit, absurd, extreme, or crude, nor particularly unfamiliar—failed at the box office yet possesses a cult appeal. Perhaps it was the film’s subtle blend of horror and non-horror elements, its dreamlike and disjointed, illogical narrative, and its tragic story of relationships laced with homosexual undertones that captivated fans. The film is not explicit but rather subtle; instead of relying on extreme, in-your-face scenes, it fills the screen with sophisticated metaphors.
Co-directed by Kim Tae-yong and Min Kyu-dong, this film also marks both directors’ feature-length commercial film debuts. Notably, although the film bears the title of the ‘High School Ghost Story’ series, it took a significantly different path from its predecessors. At the time, Director Min Kyu-dong explained that he wanted to portray the relationship itself naturally, rather than politically explaining or defining homosexuality.
The horror film ‘High School Ghost Story’, featuring a blood-soaked, long-haired high school girl ghost, and ‘Memento Mori’, which depicts the tragic romance between Hyo-shin and Si-eun, generally blend well together but occasionally clash. For example, in scenes such as when Mina discovers Hyo-shin’s blood-stained head in a locker or when Hyo-shin’s corpse seems to be glaring at the viewer, the film appears to be trying to scare people out of a sense of obligation, as if to remind them that it is a horror movie.
However, rather than relying on typical clichés—such as blood, long-haired female ghosts, and loud bangs—that tediously scare the audience as if to say, “I’m scary! I’m a horror movie,” this film makes greater use of the sorrowful horror stemming from tragedy, as well as a mysterious, metaphorical, and sophisticated horror that feels like being trapped in a labyrinth. In fact, this kind of horror suits the film much better.
In this way, the film tilts the balance between ‘The Ghost Story of a Girls’ High School: The Second Story’ and ‘Memento Mori’ entirely toward the latter. Consequently, it disappointed audiences who went in expecting “horror for horror’s sake” based on the ‘The Ghost Story of a Girls’ High School’ title, and I believe this is why it ultimately failed at the box office.
In that context, while this film boldly bears the “High School Ghost Story” title as a horror movie, in my personal opinion, it is a drama that merely uses horror as a prop. I consider “The Red Shoes” to be a similar type of film. The goal this film pursues is not horror, and the message it conveys is not the build-up or resolution of fear, but rather a sorrow that is somewhat heart-wrenching and bittersweet. Horror serves as the dramatic and surreal element that effectively conveys that message.
Returning to the earlier discussion on whether a horror film is “any film that evokes fear” or “a film whose purpose is to evoke fear”—if the former is the definition of a horror film, then this film would be a horror film; if the latter is the definition, then it would not be. In any case, there is no doubt that horror plays a crucial role in ‘Memento Mori’. Without horror, ‘Memento Mori’ would be nothing more than a bland, run-of-the-mill romance—neither dramatic nor compelling.
Because horror was incorporated, the film was able to take events that could plausibly happen—or rather, events that happen all the time at any girls’ high school—and place them within an extraordinary framework, crafting them into a dramatic and fatal story. For this reason, ‘Memento Mori’ could be described as a horror film that doesn’t feel like a typical horror film.
Hyoshin, Si-eun, and the Horror Created by Their Relationship
The main characters in ‘Memento Mori’ are So-min-ah, Min Hyo-shin, and Yoo Si-eun. So-min-ah, a medium—a character typically found in horror films—is, as is often the case, an ordinary, quite innocent, and cute female student. Kim Gyu-ri plays the role of Min-ah. She conveys and mediates the story of Min Hyo-shin and Yoo Si-eun; she is both an intruder into their world and the one who guides us into it. Originally a member of the group of bullies, she becomes integrated into Hyo-shin and Si-eun’s world through a crucial prop: an exchange diary.
Min Hyo-shin is precocious, intelligent, and possesses her own inner world; however, precisely because of this, she fails to blend in with the group and remains an outsider. She despises the crowd of childish kids and deliberately refuses to associate with them. Hyoshin attempts to assert her superiority by looking down on the group she cannot fit into, but as she is excluded by the group and helplessly exposed to their overwhelming violence, she never comes across as truly free or “cool.”
Hyoshin is decidedly self-conscious, emotionally intense, and possessive; she defends herself by pretending to be cool, indifferent, and mature, but she is actually more sensitive than anyone else and heavily dependent on relationships.
Her girlfriend, Yu Si-eun, is a track athlete with a boyish appearance—the kind of object of admiration you’d expect to find at any girls’ high school. Si-eun is a character whose life goal seems to be living quietly and unobtrusively; she doesn’t blend into the group, but she doesn’t do so out of any particular will or choice. If Hyoshin is excess, then Si-eun is deficiency.
Hyoshin says to Si-eun:
“I can’t hear very well, and I sometimes hear strange noises.”
Si-eun has hearing loss. Her hearing loss isolates Hyo-shin and Si-eun in a closed-off world of their own, fueling Hyo-shin’s fantasy of possessing Si-eun.
If Hyoshin is recklessly romantic and melodramatically dramatic, Si-eun is timid and down-to-earth. This is vividly illustrated in the scene where Hyoshin and Si-eun tie each other’s feet together and sink beneath the surface, only for Si-eun to untie the rope, step on Hyoshin’s shoulder—which is holding her back—and rise to the surface.
Hyoshin is willing to die for the woman he loves, Si-eun, and can even kiss her boldly in front of others, but Si-eun consistently rejects him and runs away every time. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t like Hyoshin, though. Si-eun is simply afraid because of her pragmatic nature. Si-eun, who loves Hyo-shin even as she pulls away from his desperate, reckless love—this emotional imbalance is one of the key elements driving the story forward in this film.
Meanwhile, Yeon-an and Ji-won, who emerge as the group’s primary bullies, are no different from any other high school girls. They’re moderately bubbly and brash, yet cruelly exclusive toward those who don’t fit into the group. They are children who cannot tolerate anything different from themselves and are honest about their own emotions.
Teacher Go Hyung-seok, who has feelings for Hyo-shin, is a character who feels a sense of kinship with Hyo-shin—an outsider drifting on the fringes of the group—yet harbors doubts about his own materialistic way of life. However, Hyo-shin could not love him as much as she loved Si-eun, and because he was too naive, he met his own death.
Oppression, Guilt, and Death We Must Remember
“Memento Mori,” woven together by these elements, tells two main stories. The first is the oppression inflicted upon the two protagonists—the kind that a group inflicts on minorities. The small society of the school ostracizes Hyo-shin and Si-eun, individuals who cannot blend smoothly into the group. Furthermore, the oppression directed at their relationship—that is, the oppression of homosexuality—is so harsh and ruthless that it borders on violence.
Korean society, which is particularly authoritarian and collectivist, enforces an implicit conformity. It compels people to follow established rules in the name of morality, and those who deviate from these rules are branded as strange individuals lacking social competence. Thus, the social conditioning we have received since childhood demands conventional and “normal” morality, while anything else is dismissed as immoral.
Homosexuality is precisely what is condemned and despised under this pretext of “immorality.” The concept of social morality, formed unconsciously through social interaction, rejects homosexuality as a matter of individual free choice. Homosexuality is a way of being, a free choice, and a private matter that deserves respect. However, overt violence perpetrated by the so-called “normal majority” against the “abnormal minority” is rampant throughout society.
This is equally true in schools—a microcosm of society—where violence against homosexuality is depicted throughout the film. Yeon-an mocks Hyo-shin, saying she “smells like a lesbian,” and when Hyo-shin writes her own name next to Si-eun’s on the birthday bulletin board, she is doused with milk. Si-eun turns her back on Hyo-shin, and Hyo-shin commits suicide.
The group that perpetrated the oppression is burdened with a vague, unconscious sense of guilt, and the children remember Hyo-shin’s death—just as the film’s title, “Memento Mori,” suggests.
This is also where the idea that “Memento Mori” is not a horror film stems from. After her death, Hyoshin does not become a vengeful spirit to take revenge on the children who tormented her or on Si-eun, who turned her back on her. Hyoshin’s ghost neither exerts physical force nor actually exists. The visions of her that appear after her death are merely illusions projected onto the guilt-ridden children—images of the sacrificial lamb whose death they drove her toward. The one acting as the medium is none other than Mina, who possesses the exchange diary between Hyoshin and Si-eun.
Late at night after Hyoshin’s death, the children continue to interpret ominous signs—such as a red bird or a door that suddenly swings open—as manifestations of their unconscious fears. Then, through the somewhat typical cliché of “a ghost playing the piano,” the guilt, fear, and vague dread that had been building up at the school all this time explode.
The children fall into a state of hysterical panic and run around frantically, but the doors are locked and won’t open. This is not the revenge of the deceased Hyo-shin, a spiritual entity, but rather a hallucination created by the explosion of the unconscious guilt and fear that had been lurking within the children.
This quite realistic horror film plausibly depicts societal oppression and its catastrophic consequences without resorting to excessive bloodshed or death. Toward the end of the film, as the panic escalates, a brief scene appears that may be someone’s hallucination.
Hyoshin and Si-eun stand hand in hand in the central hall. On the staircases on either side of the hall, and below it, countless children are clapping as if to bless them. A cake with lit candles is passed from hand to hand, and Ji-won places the cake in front of Hyoshin and Si-eun. Just as Hyoshin and Si-eun are about to blow out the candles, Ji-won playfully seems to pull the cake back, only to ultimately toss it into the air. Then the story returns to reality.
This scene is a truly sad and beautiful fantasy. We cannot know—nor does it need to be revealed—whether it is Si-eun’s fantasy, Mina’s fantasy, or the director’s fantasy. However, the fantasy in which these women—who had been despised and tormented under the label of “taboo”—are finally acknowledged and blessed was, even if only for a moment, heart-wrenchingly sad.
Love and Relationships: Two People Who Ultimately Drift Apart
The second story told by ‘Memento Mori’ is about relationships. Beneath the external symbolism of the oppression inflicted by the majority upon the minority lies a tragedy of human connection.
Humans yearn for others. Those like Hyo-shin, who are excluded from the group, project themselves onto someone they connect with even more intensely and ascribe absolute meaning to that relationship. Hyo-shin and Si-eun escape the world of the school—which fails to understand them—and pursue their own utopia.
Through the format of an exchanged diary, they dream of their own Eden, unbound by time or space. Furthermore, the rooftop—which Hyo-shin and Si-eun frequently reach by crossing the “No Students Allowed” sign, a symbol of the taboos imposed by society—is their own utopia.
However, this utopia is unstable. As mentioned earlier in the character analysis, Hyoshin represents excess, while Si-eun represents deficiency. Si-eun merely listens to whatever Hyoshin says. No matter what reality looks like or what the world says, Hyoshin is willing to do anything for Si-eun, but Si-eun cannot bring herself to fully withdraw the one foot still anchored in reality.
And she repeatedly turns away from and runs away from the love Hyoshin offers her. Si-eun simply lacks the strength or emotional capacity to handle the love Hyo-shin offers. This emotional imbalance and the inevitable misalignment drive them toward tragedy. Though they long to be together in a world of their own, external factors—such as societal oppression—and internal factors—such as their emotional imbalance and the inescapable misalignment—ultimately tear them apart.
A Dreamlike Plot and the School as Another Leading Character
“Memento Mori” portrays a tragic and sorrowful sense of horror through these two stories. The plot that contains these narratives features a highly complex chronological structure and blurred boundaries between fantasy and reality, causing confusion for the audience. It is impossible to interpret this plot perfectly in chronological order or to draw a clear line between reality and fantasy. The only way to distinguish time is by the alternating appearance of winter and summer uniforms.
While the disjointed timeline and the blurred line between reality and fantasy make it difficult for the audience to follow the story’s progression, it can also be argued that this approach suspends the film in a state of limbo and imbues it with a hollow, dreamlike atmosphere, effectively bringing out its unique cult appeal. The unstable, handheld-style footage and visual noise mesh well with the film’s creaking, precarious narrative.
The lead actors—Park Ye-jin as Hyo-shin, Lee Young-jin as Si-eun, and Gong Hyo-jin as Ji-won—made their early film acting debuts in this film. Kim Gyu-ri played the role of Min-ah. Consequently, the actors’ performances are somewhat uneven and ambiguous, with variations in interpretation and immersion from scene to scene, revealing, at times, a gap between the director’s vision and the characters the actors portray.
However, the actors’ performances—which are slightly awkward, almost as if they were speaking in a stilted, formal manner, and marked by an unsteady gaze—actually align well with the film’s overall atmosphere. I believe that expressions and speech patterns that are somewhat off-kilter and unstable bring out the film’s sense of anxiety and dreamlike quality far better than perfectly polished performances would.
Another factor that contributed significantly to the creation of ‘Memento Mori’ is the school where it was filmed. This film was shot at Changdeok Girls’ High School, where I graduated. Its distinctive, labyrinthine, enclosed “ㅁ”-shaped layout, red brick walls, white staircases wrapping around the central hall on both sides, arches, skylights, the green plants growing in the hall, the swimming pool, the rooftop, and the church spire visible from the rooftop all blended perfectly with the film.
Scenes such as the one where Mina runs down the hallway and the past and present, reality and fantasy, flash by alternately in the opposite hallway, or the scene where Hyoshin and Si-eun—who may be someone’s fantasy—are surrounded by everyone in the central hall and blessed, showcased such excellent mise-en-scène that one could say the school itself was another leading actor.
In fact, the school spaces depicted in this film are more than mere backdrops. The enclosed hallways, staircases, rooftop, and central hall become a single, vast space that encapsulates the characters’ relationships and emotions. In a film where reality and fantasy constantly intersect, the school functions both as a physical location and as a labyrinth where memories, guilt, desire, and fear overlap.
A Film That Endures Over Time, and Its Limitations
“Memento Mori” is a horror film—yet not quite a horror film—filled with sorrowful and suffocating metaphors. However, it also has its share of shortcomings. The overly chaotic plot structure diminishes the audience’s immersion and creates a sense of emptiness, as if the story were spinning its wheels.
Furthermore, the film’s portrayal of homosexuality is idealized and embellished, inevitably revealing that it was made from the perspective of an outsider observing same-sex relationships. Much like a classic lesbian film, the platonic love between a doll-like, pretty girl and a tomboyish girl is unlikely to provoke strong aversion among viewers. The aesthetic and sentimental portrayal of same-sex relationships in the media stands in stark contrast to reality.
From a cinematic perspective, it is disappointing that the film seems to reproduce a version of same-sex love that exists only on screen by adhering to the typical framework of same-sex relationships; from a social perspective, it is indeed a cause for concern that such a distorted portrayal might end up suppressing real-life same-sex relationships.
However, looking back now, it is difficult to limit the film’s portrayal of same-sex love solely to a narrative about a specific sexual identity. Rather than a queer film focused on homosexuality, ‘Memento Mori’ is also a film that deals with universal emotions of love and relationships—feelings that every human being has likely experienced at least once. Even at the time of its release, the film was praised not so much for its subject matter of homosexuality as for its delicate portrayal of the love, relationships, anxiety, and obsession experienced by young women during their formative years.
Therefore, it can be said that the film’s homosexual themes were quite effectively utilized to create a dramatic tragedy, even within the framework of a horror film, while incorporating elements reminiscent of a melodrama.
Above all, the reason this film continues to be discussed even today is likely not simply because it is a “unique horror film made long ago.” Although made in 1999, the film’s exploration of relationships within the confined space of a school—where characters fear the gaze of others and are unable to love their partners as deeply as they wish—still feels relevant today. In fact, because society’s language and sensibilities regarding the relationships depicted in the film have evolved over time, it’s fascinating to compare how the film was viewed then versus now.
The ‘High School Ghost Story’ series that emerged after ‘Memento Mori’ took a different direction with each installment. ‘High School Ghost Story: The Third Tale—The Fox Stairs’, ‘High School Ghost Story 4: The Voice’, and ‘High School Ghost Story 5: Suicide Pact’ opted for distinct themes and forms of horror rather than continuing the narrative in the same vein as the second film.
In the process, as the “High School Ghost Story” name was repeatedly capitalized upon, there were moments when the series reverted to the typical formula of high school girl ghosts and horror; however, it’s undeniable that each film also experimented with new themes and perspectives. In particular, it’s worth revisiting today how the “High School Ghost Story” series transcended being a mere horror film franchise to serve as a vessel for capturing the anxieties and desires surrounding schools, teenagers, relationships, and women in Korean society at the time.
In that sense, ‘Memento Mori’ is an exceptionally distinct and unique work even within the ‘High School Ghost Story’ series. Rather than shocking the audience with blood splatter or ghosts killing people, it depicts the anxiety that arises between loving someone and accepting that love; the obsession that develops when a person cast out from a group becomes overly dependent on another; and the process by which guilt over one’s own actions gradually transforms into terror.
Ultimately, the scariest thing in this film may not be the ghosts. Two people who loved each other but could not love in the same way, a group that could not accept those different from themselves, and the memories and guilt that linger even after one person’s death—these elements create a horror that lasts far longer.
That is why, even when watched today, ‘Memento Mori’ is a horror film that is not quite a horror film. And perhaps it is precisely because of this ambiguity that it remains unforgettable even as time passes.
True to the phrase “Memento Mori,” what this film ultimately leaves us with is not fear itself, but memory. The memory of someone’s death, the memory of someone’s love, and the memory of a person we once turned away from. What remains even after the film ends is not the image of a ghost, but the chilling and sorrowful emotions created by those memories.