[Limelight] Walking a Fine Line Between Good and Evil... Is the Responsibility for Crime Solely on the Individual?

Movie 'Broker' by Koreeda Hirokazu

"Life harbors a lack within itself and fills it through others. But people do not know this. They live scattered in indifference."

This is a line from Hiroshi Yoshino's poem "Life Is," quoted in the film Air Doll (2009). Nozomi, the air doll (played by Bae Doona), acquires human emotions and recites it. Director Hirokazu Koreeda does not portray lack negatively; he depicts it as an open possibility toward others.

The same applies to Broker, filmed in Korea. The open possibilities are visualized prominently in three spaces. The first is the baby box where an unwanted baby is left. So-young (Lee Ji-eun) abandons her son Woo-sung on the ground. Detective Soo-jin (Bae Doona), who is on undercover duty, carefully picks him up and places him inside the baby box.

The second is the laundry delivery van. Sang-hyun (Song Kang-ho) and Dong-soo (Kang Dong-won), who plan to sell Woo-sung, set out to find new parents together with So-young, who has discovered their plan. All of them are criminals. However, when Hae-jin (Im Seung-soo), who wishes to adopt, boards the van, they become aware of their guilt. They also gain the courage to fill their own lacks.

The third is society. The characters seek a new future together with the Yoon couple (Park Hae-joon and Kim Ye-eun), who show affection toward Woo-sung. However, Sang-hyun is excluded. The faint hope he had disappears, and he voluntarily leaves the group. The decisive moment is a conversation with his long-unseen biological daughter. When he mentions reconciliation, she replies, "Mom said, 'We don't need money, so please never show up again.'" Even when he tries to lighten the mood by recalling memories of the Ferris wheel, she remains cold. "I don't remember."

Then why can Dong-soo, who also sold a baby, and So-young, who even committed murder, gather in the sunlight? Sang-hyun sold the baby solely to make money. Dong-soo, like Hae-jin, grew up in an orphanage. He sees Woo-sung as his past self and tries to find good parents for him. So-young, who made a living through prostitution, becomes pregnant. Her path after childbirth closely resembles Ryota (Masaharu Fukuyama) in Like Father, Like Son (2013). Through the process of selling her child, she learns motherhood. She becomes aware of her reality and feels responsibility.

The crimes committed by these two cannot be easily forgiven morally. Yet, Director Koreeda grants them open possibilities. He said, "In Japan, for over 20 years, criminal responsibility has been placed solely on individuals. My films depict the process of searching for other factors."

"I believe it is always necessary to find social reasons behind crimes. This underlies this film as well. While crime cannot be condoned, criminals should not be disparaged or denied existence."

The subtle tightrope walk between good and evil is also evident in Soo-jin. She claims to be a righteous detective but persistently exploits So-young's weaknesses. She even hires an actor to conduct a sting operation. Realizing that her methods are no different from those of brokers, she urges So-young to surrender. She restores her fundamental stance of protecting citizens' safety. Thanks to this, she earns the qualification to present new possibilities in the third space.

In his book I Will Continue to Tell Small Stories, Director Koreeda once urged civil servants to have a similar awakening. "When the phrase 'justice will be served' proudly comes from the mouth of a shameless politician, he clearly believes himself to be on the side of good. In reality, he never imagines that he is part of a society that produces 'evil.' If he had such imagination, as someone responsible for youth development in the government, he might have felt moral responsibility even if not legal, and perhaps resigned."

Upon closer examination, familism is a problem of state power that places the family at the forefront of desire while hiding its own face. The more the state fails to fulfill its duties and shifts responsibility onto families, the stronger familism becomes. Its dismantling begins with a cold insight into the essence of nationalism. Director Koreeda does not recklessly point to hope. The photos of the characters, which can even be interpreted as a "alternative family," still hang and sway from the laundry delivery van's side mirror.

This content was produced with the assistance of AI translation services.