Director: Kim Jin-Hwang
Cast: Ha Jung-Woo, Kim Nam-Gil, Yoo Da-In, Jeong Man-Sik, Im Sung-Jae, Lee Hye-Soo
Running Time: 100 min.
By Paul Bramhall
Nocturnal dares to ask the question, what if Ha Jung-woo hadn’t become a mainstay of Hallmark channel style ‘based on a true story’ movies in the 2020’s, and instead went back to the kind of gritty roles he frequented in the late 2000’s and early 2010’s with productions like The Yellow Sea and Beastie Boys? The answer is a welcome one, with the harsh Korean winter serving as the backdrop to his recently out of prison ex-gangster, now attempting to get by as a day labourer working construction. Of course the rules of the genre mean that he can’t lead a peaceful life for long, and when his younger brother turns up dead in one of the local karaoke bars, he dons a heavyset winter jacket, throws a steel pipe in his rucksack, and begins traipsing around town looking for answers.
From the opening scene of Jung-woo strolling away from a bloody beatdown, decked out in a dishevelled suit and with blood dripping from the aforementioned pipe, director Kim Jin-hwang’s sophomore feature feels like it announces itself as a throwback to a time when Korean cinema had a harder edge. After helming a number of short films Jin-hwang would make his feature length debut in 2016 with the crime thriller The Boy Who Cried Wolf, however in the intervening years he’s only cropped in a handful of minor acting roles, with the release of Nocturnal making it almost a decade since he last directed. Like The Boy Who Cried Wolf, the script for Nocturnal also comes from the pen of Jin-hwang, and the plot settles down to focus on Jung-woo’s search for the girlfriend his brother was living with, played by Yoo Da-in (Tastes of Horror, The Suspect), who’s disappeared without a trace.
What gives Nocturnal a unique slant is the introduction of a character played by Kim Nam-gil (A Man of Reason, Memoir of a Murderer), giving the production a similar sophomore opportunity for he and Ha Jung-woo to reunite after co-starring in 2020’s The Closet. Anyone who’s a regular reader of my reviews will know I’m not the biggest fan of Nam-gil, as I often find he comes across as miscast in the roles he ends up in, a fact which is ironically offset by him also being the star of one of my all-time favorite Korean movies in the form of The Shameless (although I remain convinced that’s because he was acting alongside Jeon Do-yeon!). Here he plays a novelist, and his latest novel – titled Nocturnal – involves a character’s murder that closely resembles the demise of his brother, pointing to Da-in as the culprit. When it’s revealed the pair were acquainted, Nam-gil also scrambles to find Da-in, hoping to locate her before Jung-woo.
While Jung-woo’s reasons for finding Da-in are clear – to find out if she was responsible for his brother’s death, and if so, send her off to meet him – Nam-gil’s are less so. We know he met various attendees of lectures he was hosting to gain inspiration for his novel, and it was during one of these meetings that Da-in revealed how she’s regularly beaten and abused, and of her dream to be able to kill her boyfriend because of his ill treatment. But did she and Nam-gil end up in a relationship together, or does Nam-gil simply feel guilty for using her wish fulfilment story as the basis for his novel? Or is there a third reason – perhaps he was the one who killed the brother so that they could be together? The ambiguity behind his role in the story works effectively, however it also frustratingly concludes in a distinctly anticlimactic fashion.
I’m always keen to avoid spoilers when writing reviews, although my exasperation was such at this part of the plot that I’m going to go out on a limb, and suggest what I’m about to say isn’t a spoiler. The part about Nam-gil playing a writer of a novel that essentially predicts Jung-woo’s brothers death ends up having no bearing on the plot whatsoever, and is dropped altogether in the last third. We don’t even get to find out what the relationship was between Da-in and Nam-gil, he’s left to just silently fade out of the picture. It’s almost as if it was written as a brief sub-plot (even though the movie also takes its title from the novels name!), but in the final product came out as a prominent part of the narrative by mistake, making its sudden irrelevance to what unfolds come across like a glaring omission.
In retrospect, that leaves the heavy lifting to Jung-woo, and there’s an undeniable pleasure in seeing him back as a crumpled and world-weary antagonist prowling the back alleys of nightclubs, low rent karaoke joints, and late-night diners. I don’t know if it was because of the presence of Kim Nam-gil, but the locations of Nocturnal more than once reminded me of The Shameless, with the greyness of the Korean winter almost making the bitter cold feel tangible. As a character Jung-woo makes for an intriguing proposition, with Jin-hwang initially painting him as someone who’s understandably out to seek revenge for his brother’s death, perhaps from guilt that he was the one who brought his brother into the fold of the criminal world in the first place. He may not be the most likeable guy to grace the screen, but his motivation is relatable.
However as the narrative continues, it becomes harder and harder to sympathise with him. Even after learning what a lowlife his brother was, constantly strung out on drugs and regularly beating his girlfriend, he still pushes forward blindly seeking revenge, despite it becoming clear his brother may have gotten exactly what was coming to him. If it was an intentional move to introduce a main character who becomes more difficult to root for as the plot progresses, then it was a bold one, and for the most part Jin-hwang pulls it off. However there’s also no denying that Nocturnal feels like it should be Da-in’s movie rather than Jung-woo’s, as a karaoke bar receptionist who finds her abusive boyfriend dead, and goes on the run as the boyfriends brother, the novelist she may or may not be involved with, and the police begin to close in on her. It’s just a shame that in its current form her character her very little to do beyond running away.
While far from being action heavy, there are a couple of skirmishes that feel refreshingly old school. Technological advances have seen camerawork during group melees become increasingly dynamic in recent years, but it can also tend to lack weight, case in point being many of the action sequences found in the recently released Netflix series Mercy for None. Here there’s a grounded scrappiness to them, with an initial skirmish seeing Jung-woo and his trusty pipe going against a group of lackeys shot with a sense of brutal immediacy. Taking as many hits as he dishes out, there’s a sense of realism from Jung-woo’s choice to take out his attackers as effectively as possible – which for the most part involves hitting them in the face with his steel pipe. A clear case of quality of quantity, when the violence does hit, it resonates. Plus I think this may be the first time for me to see a frozen fish brandished as a weapon (very effective!).
It’d be a crime not to mention Nocturnal’s stellar supporting cast, with the always reliable Jung Man-sik (I, The Executioner, Revolver) cast as the gang boss that Jung-woo used to be a part of, and who his brother had continued to work for while he was inside. Similarly Seo Hyun-woo (Escape, Seire) and Lee Seol (Hard Hit, The Divine Fury) reunite from 2022’s underseen Thunderbird, this time as a pair of cops who are also looking to find the culprit behind the murder.
As the credits rolled on Nocturnal I couldn’t help but feel it was a deeply flawed movie. Important plot threads I’d expected to be resolved were simply dropped, and the narrative leaves the audience with a main character who you root for less and less. However at the same time I also can’t deny the fact that I enjoyed a lot of Kim Jin-hwang’s sophomore feature, with its story unfolding on dilapidated streets and old school marketplaces, there’s a sense of grittiness to it that gets removed in the sheen applied to so many recent Korean productions. Perhaps a case of enjoying it for the movies it reminded me of more than the movie it is, Nocturnal has the ingredients for greatness, but seems like it doesn’t know quite what to do with them.
Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 6/10