In remembrance of the late Program Director Kim Ji-seok, who devoted himself to the growth and support of Asian films, the Jiseok section continues to shine a light on the current state of Asian films this year as well. From Taiwan, India, Japan, Kyrgyzstan, the Philippines, to South Korea. We explored and listened to the world of cinema crafted by these distinguished Asian directors and the beauty within and beyond their works.
<Village Rockstars 2>, India
DIRECTOR Rima DAS
PROGRAM NOTE
Village Rockstars 2, the latest work by Rima Das, revisits the life of Dhunu, seven years after the events of Village Rockstars (2017). Living in a small rural village in Assam, Dhunu lives with her ailing mother, who is growing weak from hard labor, and her immature older brother, who constantly pesters their mother for a motorcycle. Although she is now in her late teens, Dhunu still climbs trees, swims, and most importantly, dreams of continuing her childhood life as a guitarist in her rock band. However, life does not unfold as Dhunu wishes. As she faces the bitter and sour moments of life, she stands on the threshold of leaving her once-happy childhood behind. Village Rockstars 2 follows Dhunu with a camera that is both realistic and lyrical, lovingly supporting her choices and growth in a way that feels both fresh and grounded. (PARK Sun Young, BIFF Programmer)
You’ve returned with a sequel, <Village Rockstars 2>, following the original <Village Rockstars>.
The final scene of <Village Rockstars>, where Dhunu receives a real guitar from her mother after dreaming of being a musician with an imaginary guitar, has always stayed deep in my heart. That moment when Dhunu instinctively created beautiful sounds on the field at sunset still feels magical to me. After making <Village Rockstars>, I started wondering about the life Dhunu might be living after some years had passed. In 2020, I began working on <Village Rockstars 2>, and after a four-year production process, the film was finally completed.
What story did you want to convey through this film?
<Village Rockstars 2> is a film for those standing at the starting line. Many young people have dreams and talents but lack the proper environment or resources. I wanted to depict Dhunu’s journey as she reaches her late teens, facing numerous challenges while still pursuing her dreams. Through Dhunu’s eyes, I tried to explore what challenges, responsibilities, relationships like friendship, and the surrounding nature mean to her.
Reuniting with the actors from <Village Rockstars> after seven years must have been a new experience.
I’ve maintained a connection with my ‘Village Rockstars’ for over 10 years now, so I’d say we share a rather special relationship. (laughs) This sense of being connected was a great help in making the film. Embracing the changes that come with time, we encountered many dreamlike moments together.
What do you believe are the defining characteristics of your films?
Since I handle the script, cinematography, production, and editing myself, the world I perceive naturally becomes embedded in the film. I love life, nature, and people, and I find beauty in everything that exists in the world. I seek light in darkness, and when there’s an abundance of light, I look into the shadows. Just as life balances light and darkness, my films progress in harmony with that natural order.
Why do you continue to stay within the world of cinema?
<Village Rockstars 2> is my fifth feature film. Although I’ve been making films for a long time, I’ve never felt exhausted or bored. The fact that my films can reach and touch someone keeps me moving forward. Being able to create a new universe through cinema is a precious experience. The words of Agnès Varda, “I am not just making another film; I am fighting to keep cinema alive,” always resonate deeply with me.
<Aimitagai>, Japan
DIRECTOR KUSANO Shogo
PROGRAM NOTE
Some moments in life are decided in a flash. Life and death can be separated by a few seconds, and a stranger’s actions can change the present of another’s life. Aimitagai focuses on such chain reactions of fate. Azusa and Kanami have been best friends since high school. After Kanami dies in an unexpected accident, Azusa despairs yet finds comfort in sending text messages to Kanami’s cellphone. Kanami’s parents wonder about Azusa’s identity, and upon visiting the orphanage that their dead daughter cared about, are moved by her good deeds. The dead do not come back to life, but their traces shake people’s hearts in various ways, and small, good deeds come together to make the world a place worth living. Kuroki Haru, who appeared in <Sleepeeer Hit!> (2016) and <Okiku and the World> (2023), expresses the delicate emotions of the protagonist Azusa. The film is charming with the elaborate rhetoric of Kusano Shogo, who directed <What She Likes…> (2021). (NAM Dong-chul, BIFF Program Director)
How do you feel about coming to Busan with <Aimitagai>?
Honestly, I’m extremely happy. (laughs) It’s an honor to be invited again after <What She Likes>.
What story did you want to convey through this film?
I wanted to show that everyday actions or small events that are easily overlooked can unexpectedly impact others, or even come back to affect oneself. I hoped to convey that such seemingly trivial things can sometimes become a source of strength or will to live for someone else.
What was the most important aspect for you when making <Aimitagai>?
It was crucial to understand the intentions behind the script left by the late director Kiyoshi Sasabe and, based on that, incorporate my thoughts to complete the film. Since a considerable amount of time had passed since Director Sasabe wrote the script, I spent a lot of time updating and modifying it to reflect the modern era, bringing the final version to life.
You’re known as a director who draws out authentic performances from actors. What do you prioritize in this process?
I frequently ask whether the actors feel uncomfortable or if there are any unnatural aspects while they are acting. It feels strange to me to force a living person to act or speak in a certain way. I strive to capture something genuinely emerging from each actor.
What common themes do you find in the stories you enjoy?
I’m drawn to works that depict the complexities of human emotions and inner conflicts. I also find myself captivated by stories that highlight things that might be forgotten if left unnoticed or those that everyone remembers but were never put into words.
What do you think is essential for you when making films?
Beyond an interest in films, it’s essential to have a relentless drive to explore life and the world around us. At the same time, improving the film production environment and fostering better relationships with actors and the crew as a director is crucial. I still vividly remember the joy and challenges of making my first film in my freshman year of university. Rather than diminishing, that passion has only grown, which is why I continue to stay with film. I hope that feeling remains with me in the future.
<I Am Love>, South Korea
DIRECTOR BAEK Seungbin
PROGRAM NOTE
Sa-rang (Jang Seon) is deeply in love with Cheol-su (Lee Yoojun), who visits the pharmacy where she works every day. Unfortunately, Cheol-su’s heart is completely taken by Jong-hui (Han Haein), the pharmacist and Sa-rang’s cousin. With misaligned and unreachable hearts and gazes, <I Am Love> is a poignant and desperate love story about unreciprocated affection and the fever of unrequited love, a melancholic elegy of love. Despite the anguish, it is also a love hymn dedicated to those captivated by love who vow to love even more, never knowing how to give up. Struggling to express her feelings verbally, Sa-rang instead uses the love poetry of W.H. Auden as a guide for her life, becoming absorbed in the tragic circumstances of a woman named ‘Love’ who fell into a tragic incident because of her affection. Sa-rang is overwhelmed by love. How far can this love go? In the end, will Sarang find the serene comfort, akin to a state of vacuum, she has long sought? (JEONG Jihye, Film critic)
How would you introduce <I Am Love> in your own words as a director?
This is a film that tells the story that ‘the emotion of love is an illness, those who fall in love are patients, and we willingly wish to become such patients.’
The starting point of this film seems to be love. What aspect of love fascinates you?
As someone who is particularly fond of stories about people who are not in a sound state of mind, love was a subject I always wanted to explore in one way or another. Among the many complex emotions that can drive a person mad, love is the most intense. So, I wanted to dissect love as romantically as possible through this film.
It seems you delved deeply into love. Did your existing thoughts on love change in any way?
If anything, my original stance became even stronger. Love truly seems to be a terrifying illness. Once you catch it, there’s no cure. It’s like you just end up shattering, don’t you think? (laughs)
Portraying such a complex emotion like love must have involved a lot of deliberation in your interactions with the actors.
Given the low-budget and fast-paced shooting environment, there was always a sense of regret about not having enough time to thoroughly ponder and reflect. Exchanges of ideas with the actors also had to happen at a rapid pace. Due to the sacrifices made in this process, I always place great importance on casting. I focus on finding someone who can empathize with the film’s message as deeply as I do—or perhaps even express it better than I can. You could say I strive to find someone ready to grab my hand and run forward at the sound of a gunshot.
What was the most important aspect for you when making this film?
Ensuring that we completed each day’s shooting schedule and wrapped up filming without a single delay. This was so that the cinematographer could experience the joy of welcoming his first child in his desired place with his family as planned.
Was there a moment of love you discovered during the film production process?
The moment on the day we wrapped up shooting, when I felt grateful for having given my all to make yet another film that no one might ever watch, as I headed home.
What is the mindset you continually revisit while making films?
I believe that making films is an opportunity and a gift, but also a luxurious pursuit and not something all that grand. I constantly recall and ponder over Denzel Washington’s words: ‘Don’t fool yourself into thinking you’ve become something just because you make movies.’ I try to keep the essence of that message in mind as I create films.
<Yen and Ai-Lee>, Taiwan
DIRECTOR Tom LIN Shu-Yu
PROGRAM NOTE
The film begins with a striking scene: a woman, bloodied and battered, appears in a quiet village alley late at night and stares directly into the camera. The scene then shifts to Yen’s reunion with her mother, Ai-Lee, after serving eight years in prison. Ai-Lee, who runs a small grocery store and sells lottery tickets, is blunt and direct, while Yen, feeling unfamiliar with life outside of prison, remains emotionally reserved. Tensions rise when, one day, Yen’s much younger half-brother arrives, upsetting the fragile balance between Yen and Ai-Lee. Director Tom Lin Shu-Yu calmly unfolds the story of <Yen and Ai-Lee> from each of their perspectives in black-and-white, slowly leading to the moment where they begin to embrace each other. Intense performances by Yang Kuei-Mei and Hsia Kimi breathe life into this tense, love-hate relationship between mother and daughter. (PARK Sun Young, BIFF Programmer)
How do you feel about <Yen and Ai-Lee> being invited to the Jiseok section at the Busan International Film Festival?
The late programmer Kim Ji-seok was a great advocator of Taiwanese cinema and supported my filmmaking through the Busan International Film Festival. I feel grateful and proud to be invited to a section that reflects his vision.
What story did you aim to tell with this film?
<Yen and Ai-Lee> is about a mother and daughter overcoming regret and past traumas in a patriarchal society. I wanted to show how the person we have the most conflict with is like a mirror, revealing how we are more similar than we think.
Why did you decide to make <Yen and Ai-Lee>?
I wanted to write a film that I could work on with my wife, who is also an actress. One day, I came across a news article with the headline, ‘Filial Son Kills Father,’ which seemed like an oxymoron. As I read further, the story revealed that the son had killed his father to protect his mother, who had suffered long-term abuse. Since my wife has always been interested in mother-daughter relationships, I thought about a story with a twist: ‘A dutiful daughter kills her father.’
It seems your wife’s relationship with her mother had a significant influence on the film.
Yes. As a child, she tried to distance herself from her family and had many complaints. However, a few years back, after her family had to sell their house and move, my wife started to look for houses near ours, for them to be closer to us. This really defines their relationship, and I found it very fascinating.
Capturing the complex emotions that arise from a mother and daughter who can’t fully understand each other must have been important. What did you focus on to achieve this?
I used an approach that involved creating a separate character named ‘Ai-Lee.’ The film shows Ai-Lee, who looks just like Yen, taking acting lessons and becoming someone else. Through this, I aimed to unravel the complexities of their relationship.
What kind of communication process did you have with the actors?
The most important thing was talking with the actors, accepting their opinions, and allowing them to continuously reinterpret the characters, permitting them to evolve. It was also crucial to create a realistic environment where the actors felt secure. Ultimately, I try to let them “pretend” as little as possible.
What kind of change do you hope the audience experiences through your film?
I hope that those who watch <Yen and Ai-Lee> become more kinder and compassionate toward others. I want to create stories that offer meaningful human stories in this chaotic world. As Roger Ebert once said, cinema is ‘a machine that generates empathy.’ A great film can bring people together and help them understand each other. A lot of people find different ways to try and make our world a better place, I try with cinema.
<So it Goes>, South Korea
DIRECTOR LEE Haram
PROGRAM NOTE
A young couple in love drive around committing murders. Bodies, guns, knives, ropes, and bottles are scattered everywhere. From fields and forests to rivers, seas, and urban landscapes, they go wherever they please, as long as they’re together. The film So It Goes is the third feature film by Lee Haram, who previously brought his bizarrely stylized debut <Beyond> (2022) to the Busan International Film Festival. It is another form of eccentricity and travelogue. The film offers a playful yet brutal assault on humanity and history, set in a dystopian world teetering on the brink of apocalypse. It blends elements of romance with invisible entities, expresses a melancholic embrace of death, and creates a strange collage of themes. This bizarre and unique hybrid world cannot be compared to anything else and does not converge into any familiar genre. It features traces and aromas of Westerns, horror, gore, sci-fi, road movies, and romance. It is a provocative journey that invites viewers to wander willingly. (JEONG Jihye, Film critic)
You’ve been invited to the Jiseok section after your debut with <Journey> at the Busan International Film Festival. How do you feel about it?
The Jiseok section was established in 2022, the same year I was first invited to the Busan International Film Festival. I was moved by the values this award represented and researched the late programmer Kim Ji-seok. I then made a promise to myself that one day, I would create a great film and return to the Busan International Film Festival through the Jiseok section. Now, two years later, I’m thrilled to see that thought come to life. However, looking at the filmographies of the other directors invited this year, I feel both a sense of pressure and a newfound motivation.
What was the starting point for <So it Goes>?
Everything about this film began with youth. To me, youth is mysterious, beautiful, violent, and absurd. While moving forward, one can get lost in the face of an uncertain future and, along the way, witness their own horrific yet beautiful world. Through this film, I wanted to satirize the absurdity of the era we live in and the irrationality inherent in youth.
What does the title mean?
The film <So it Goes> draws a lot of inspiration from Kurt Vonnegut’s novel <Slaughterhouse-Five>. The idea of being abducted by aliens and liberated from the constraints of time was intriguing, and the way the novel depicted the brutality of war as a black comedy was fascinating. The protagonist nonchalantly kills people and repeatedly says, ‘So it goes.’ He says this phrase over 100 times, and I felt that it encapsulated various themes, including absurdity and nihilism.
What was the biggest challenge in making this film?
The most challenging aspect was the absurd style of acting that the actors needed to convey. I believed that the script itself would be difficult for them to grasp. The characters are senseless, committing horrifying acts without knowing why or where they’re headed. Rather than trying to make the actors understand this, I wanted them to simply feel it. Instead of performing rehearsed acting, I encouraged them to experiment with tones, behaviors, and expressions that they hadn’t tried before.
What kind of stories do you want to tell in your future films?
One of the stories I’ve been planning deals with religion, spiritual existence, and the idea of the sublime. After watching Andrei Tarkovsky’s films, I felt as though I had received a kind of letter, and I thought I’d like to respond to him through my own film.
What do you think is the appeal of cinema?
An alluring lie can often be far more captivating than a complete reality. Perhaps that’s why I love cinema. It offers an escape from life and existence, allowing us to face a fictional world. I think I’m forever bound to this beautiful medium of film and find it impossible to break free.
<Motherland>, Philippines
DIRECTOR Brillante MENDOZA
PROGRAM NOTE
Motherland focuses on the survival story of Dao-ayen, a member of the Philippine National Police Special Action Force (SAF) from the Ifugao tribe in northern Luzon. He is called to the southernmost part of the Philippines for a special operation authorized by the president, leaving behind his pregnant wife and elderly mother. The mission is to eliminate Marwan, a terrorist and bomb maker. This dangerous operation, which has been postponed or canceled multiple times for various reasons, seems to proceed smoothly with his team as they navigate the darkness in an unfamiliar land. However, during their return, they find themselves surrounded by hundreds of enemy forces. Based on the true events of the 2015 Mamasapano clash, which resulted in numerous casualties, the film raises questions about the nature of nation and heroism. (PARK Sungho, BIFF Programmer)
The Mamasapano incident in the Philippines (where many lives were lost during a clash between the Special Action Force of the Philippine National Police and Islamic insurgents) was the starting point for <Motherland>. What about this incident led you to create the film?
I thought about those who serve the country and their families. The Mamasapano incident was definitely a bitter chapter in our history, and we went through a long period of mourning. Over time, the deaths resulting from others’ ambitions are often reduced to mere statistics, but behind each number was a life. I wanted to tell the story of these lives.
What questions did you raise about the concepts of ‘nation’ and ‘hero’ in this film?
We often regard certain organizations or the rules they establish as virtues and see them as the highest values. Yet, we sometimes forget that the individuals within those systems are simply people with dreams and families. I wanted to question whether it’s right to flatten the identities of those who were sacrificed by simply labeling them as ‘heroes.’
What was the biggest challenge in making this film?
The most challenging aspect was weighing the truth. Since it’s a story based on real events, I aimed to approach it with great sensitivity. I meticulously researched the incident and considered multiple perspectives. While being rooted in facts, I also strove to maintain a sense of warmth throughout the narrative.
Did you gain any new insights while making this film?
I realized that certain forms of hatred and prejudice are often passed down through generations. Regardless of the environment we find ourselves in, if we can speak to each other genuinely, human to human, we are more likely to find the threads of a solution rather than be swayed by grand ideologies.
Why do you believe it’s necessary to highlight social issues and convey them to the world through film?
When we encounter events through the news, they often become just numbers or fragments, making it easy to forget them. But film has the power to make us recognize that these lives truly existed. By capturing each person’s life through the camera, I believe we can ignite a spark of change by drawing more attention to their stories.
How would you define ‘the kind of films you want to make’?
Truth. While I aspire to create something beautiful that endures over time, the truth can often be ugly, mundane, or disheartening. Yet, I don’t want to relinquish the commitment to depicting that truth within my films.
<Traveling Alone>, Japan
DIRECTOR ISHIBASHI Yuho
PROGRAM NOTE
The third feature film by Ishibashi Yuho, who won the Japan Cuts award at the Osaka Asian Film Festival with When Morning Comes, I Feel Empty (2022). The film delicately conveys the memory of first love and the sense of loss, moving back and forth between past and present. Misaki, who has worked in Tokyo for ten years, spends quality time with her family and friends again in her hometown. At an event where classmates gather, she learns that the boy she liked in middle school has died. Unable to forget the memory of their first conversation in the library on a typhoon day, Misaki visits the library again on another typhoon day. Traveling Alone is a film that shows another way to fill the emptiness in one’s heart. While the music they listened to together on an MD player shows the emotional fullness of that time and place, the film only depicts the situation without directly playing the music. There is beauty that can be imagined because it’s empty, and there is love that is poignant because it wasn’t fulfilled. (NAM Dong-chul, BIFF Program Director)
What meaning did you intend to convey with the title <Traveling Alone>?
When I was conceptualizing this story, I felt that the protagonist, Misaki, who is entangled in work and love while searching for herself, resembled a ‘person traveling alone.’ In life, we encounter countless people; some pass by briefly, others walk with us for a long time, and some return after drifting apart. Yet, life is ultimately a solitary journey, and I chose the title ‘Traveling Alone’ because I believe that even after our time on this earth ends, another long journey might be waiting for us.
What inspired you to make this film?
Five years ago, someone who watched my first feature film, <Sayonara>, offered me an opportunity to direct an advertising project. When I asked her why she liked <Sayonara>, she told me a story about her boyfriend who passed away when she was in middle school. The way they recounted this experience stayed with me for a long time. It wasn’t that I wanted to depict their story specifically, but rather, I wanted to make a film about the emotions they might have felt at that time.
The film contains emotions like longing and loss—feelings that are universal to the human experience.
In this day and age, “empathy” is very useful, but it shouldn’t be approached lightly or treated superficially. Often, what might be a serious issue for me might seem trivial to others, and I think about how many people are hurt because of this. I ponder how I can draw closer to those people, always considering how to convey this in a way that allows viewers to feel they are not alone, and to see if I could make their lives a little easier.
What do you prioritize most in the filmmaking process?
Every time I look deeply into my work, I realize how little I know about others and myself. The most frightening thing is assuming that I know everything.
What do you believe is the power of cinema, and why do you remain in this world of filmmaking?
I was always saved by stories or fiction that depicted the lives of people who were not me. I believe the relationship between a creator and a receiver is not one-sided but mutual. Just as I have found moments of salvation within films, I hope to connect with others through my own movies. As long as the history of cinema continues, I wish to exist, even in the smallest part, within it.
<Deal at the Border>, Kyrgyzstan
DIRECTOR Dastan ZHAPAR RYSKELDI
PROGRAM NOTE
At the Kyrgyzstan-Kazakhstan border, Aza and Samat work as members of a drug trafficking organization. One day, they run into Nazik, who has narrowly escaped from human traffickers. Aza decides to give up the drug money and save Nazik, but Nazik tragically dies while crossing a river. Aza is determined to at least return Nazik’s remains to her homeland, but his decision thrusts him into even greater danger. The border regions of Central Asian countries, that are located adjacent to Afghanistan where massive amounts of drugs are produced, are hotspots for drug trafficking and organized crime. As those desperate for survival struggle to maintain a shred of dignity, the camera frequently pulls back to capture the vast and indifferent mountainous landscapes of the borderlands. The film is genre-driven but is also captivating with its restrained dialogue and composed visuals. (PARK Sun Young, BIFF Programmer)
What was the starting point for <Deal at the Border>?
This is a deeply personal story for me. When I was in middle school, my brother, Aktan, went abroad to work as a construction worker, and for several months, we lost all contact with him. Later, we found out that he had been trapped in slavery but miraculously escaped. We were fortunate to reunite, but I will never forget the pain of those weeks when we didn’t know whether he was alive or dead. As time passed, I became a director, and my brother became a screenwriter, and together we decided to turn this story into a film.
What did you want to convey through this film?
I wanted to convey the deep tragedy of losing someone you love and to show that the wounds of the heart can be just as painful as physical confinement.
The film deals with stories from border regions across several Central Asian countries. What was the most challenging part of making this film?
We strove to maintain authenticity throughout the film. Although we couldn’t shoot at an actual border, we tried to capture the scenes as accurately as possible. Central Asian borders often span high mountain ranges and large rivers, making it difficult to portray these landscapes in their entirety. We also needed specific weather conditions, which, of course, we couldn’t control. On the first day of shooting on the boat, a storm hit, which darkened the last two scenes. I insisted on reshooting them, and the actors ended up staying on the boat for over seven hours under challenging conditions, but in the end, we captured an amazing scene.
The BIFF’s program note includes this line: “As those desperate for survival struggle to maintain a shred of dignity, the camera frequently pulls back to capture the vast and indifferent mountainous landscapes of the borderlands.” By contrasting these desperate lives with the majestic natural scenery, what were you trying to express?
In my view, Kyrgyz cinematic tradition and literature have similarities to Greek tragedies. The protagonist takes action, fully aware that they are destined to fail, but does so out of a strong moral obligation they believe in. In contrast, nature remains indifferent, offering them no help or hope in their journey. I believe that this landscape doesn’t diminish their struggle; instead, it elevates their actions to a new level of nobility.
Is there a belief you hold onto when making films?
I believe in human goodness. I also think we have the power to drive change. Stories that showcase this strength always inspire me greatly. I, too, want to create films that capture the tales of resilient individuals and offer a sense of hope.
