It’s not the South Korean setting or dialogue, nor the carefully selected cast, that leaves a teensy feeling of let-down in Broker, the latest of Japanese master Kore-eda Hirokazu’s compassionate reflections on society’s outcasts and rejects. For most non-Asian non-distinguishers, the switch of language and scenery will probably not even be noticed and the story, as they say, is universal. The disappointment comes from the unchallenging, rarely surprising storytelling, which might be ranked a ‘5’ if Shoplifters, his marvelous 2018 Palme d’Or winner, is a ‘10’. Seemingly made for a less demanding audience in need of improbable happy endings (of sorts), Broker may well be a local hit in Asia, where sharp edges are often rounded off in popular cinema.
But there are many humanistic touches to enjoy in this Cannes competition entry. The undisputed champion of family films, Kore-eda has been pushing the definition of family in early films like Nobody Knows and After the Storm. In Like Father, Like Son, two babies are accidentally switched in the hospital and their parents only discover the mistake when the boys are six – and decide to switch them back again. Broker is another, simpler baby story, whose protagonists are two good-hearted men who run a baby trafficking business, making some cash while they save abandoned tykes from a dreadful life in an orphanage.
One rainy night, in an atmospheric back alley of Busan, a girl leaves a small baby bundled in a blanket on the ground in front of a “baby box”, a safe drop-off place for leaving unwanted children anonymously and ensuring the baby will be found and cared for. It is near a church, the only fleeting reference to religion in the film. The camera stays very close to the young woman’s face, not judging her, instead revealing how difficult it is for her.
Then the camera reveals other surprising things. Two policewomen are observing the whole scene from a car parked nearby. When the girl has left, one of them gets out of the car in exasperation and puts the child into the baby hatch. “Why have a kid if you’re going to abandon it?”
On the other side of the baby box, two men swiftly remove the child from his basket and cuddle him lovingly. The older of the two, Sang-hyun (Song Kang Ho, who played the father in Parasite), and his younger partner Dong-soo (Gang Dong Won) are in cahoots to steal infants who are “thrown away” (a telling expression used many times) and find good homes for them — at the going rate of 10 million won (about €7,500), though baby girls are worth less.
This mixture of avarice and good intentions is a hard pill to swallow, but as the story develops other elements come to the fore which sway the viewer towards them. The most important is their encounter with So-young (Lee Ji-eun) when the young mother changes her mind and returns for her baby the next day. Street-smart and aggressive rather than tearful and ashamed, she emerges as one of the more complex characters as her backstory comes out, involving not just prostitution but a dangerous liaison that ends in the worst way possible.
Rather surprisingly, So-young agrees to put her adorable newborn, who she has named Woo-sung, in the safer hands of a stable family, perhaps co-motivated by the promise of a hefty share of the money that will be quietly paid, in cash, by the new parents. Thus the three set out with Woo-sung in a rickety old van, but each parenting rendezvous hits a snag. On the way they find a stowaway in the back of the van, a bright 8-year-old from a cheerful child care center by the sea, a place where the two men know many of the foundlings. It is much nicer than an orphanage according to the sad-eyed Dong-soo, who grew up in one and knows.
Parallel to this on-the-road journey, police sergeant Su-jin (Doona Bae) and young detective Lee (Lee Joo Young) tail the van and do their best to catch the traffickers in the act of exchanging the baby for money, even if it means setting them up – a ploy that fails in a mildly comical way. The most interesting thing about this fairly obvious subplot is the divergent attitudes of the two women, with the older Su-jin playing the role of severe, emotionless cop out to make an arrest, while the other detective poses questions about mothers who abandon their kids and why. Kore-eda offers a variety of compelling reasons why a mother might feel forced to abandon her child, and So-young certainly has a lot of them.
There are also bad guys controlled by an angry widow – no mistaking them dressed in regulation black – chasing the little group in the van, in an even less developed subplot designed to ratchet up the tension, but forgotten most of the time by the screenplay. One wonders why these gangsters are even in the film.
The Korean crew marks a change from Kore-eda’s regular Japanese collaborators. The cinematography by Hong Kyung Pyo often opts for natural lighting, seconding the filmmaker’s understated style, as does production designer Lee Mok Won’s lived-in interiors and gritty sense of place in the outdoor street scenes and on the beach.
Director, screenplay, editing: Kore-eda Hirokazu
Cast: Song Kang Ho, Gang Dong Won, Doona Bae, Lee Ji Eun, Lee Joo Young
Producer: Lee Eugene
Co-producers: Song Dae Chan, Fukuma Miyuki, Yoon Hye Joon
Executive prodcuers: Miky Lee, Kang Ho Sung
Cinematography: Hong Kyung Pyo
Production design: Lee Mok Won
Costume design: Choi Se Yeon
Music: Jung Jae Il
Sound: Choi Tae Young
Production company: Zip Cinema
World Sales: CJ ENM
Venue: Cannes Film Festival (Competition)
In Korean
129 minutes
