Directed by Hirokazu Kore-eda, Monster is a Japanese drama and thriller film that was created in collaboration with one of Kore-eda's favourite writers, Yuji Sakamoto, and composer Ryuichi Sakamoto. Kore-eda, recognized for his roles as both director and screenwriter in recent works such as Broker, The Truth, and Shoplifters, embarked on the planning of Monster in 2018, with its release finally taking place in 2023. Despite the anticipation, the film received an overwhelming response in South Korea, attracting over 500,000 viewers at the box office and becoming the highest-grossing Japanese live-action film in the region. Monster also made a notable appearance at the Cannes Film Festival 2023, where it was honoured with the Best Screenplay award. The film's release comes at a time of increasing awareness and concern about issues such as school violence, domestic violence, child abuse, and the erosion of educational authority in Korea. The Sogang Herald seeks to delve into these pressing issues, offering a deep analysis of the film and Kore-eda's underlying messages, while inviting readers to ponder the question: Who is the monster?

* The following article may contain spoilers.

Multiple Perspectives, Shifting Truth      

One unique aspect of Monster is its division into three parts, which enables viewers to see the story from non-chronological perspectives. Kore-eda employs the Rashomon effect^[1] to effectively reveal multiple layers of truth throughout the film, subtly surprising the audience. Initially, Monster introduces the narrative with missing elements, leaving room for questions and doubts, until the concluding part of the movie fills in these gaps.

  The story opens from Saori Mugino's perspective, revealing her son Minato's odd behaviors—impulsively cutting his hair, bringing back muddy water in his water bottle, and coming home missing a shoe—actions Saori suspects might be due to bullying. Additionally, Minato claims his homeroom teacher, Michitoshi Hori, told him his brain had been swapped with a pig's. Saori's confrontation with the school principal, Makiko Fushimi, and other faculty members for a resolution is met with Hori's indifferent candy unwrapping and the principal's detached reading of an apology letter, further fueling her frustration. From Saori's point of view, the audience is likely to feel her anger and distrust, seeing Hori, the faculty, and Minato’s classmates as potential antagonists. Sharing Saori's concern for Minato's possible social isolation and emotional harm, viewers find fault with Hori for his apparent neglect and the school's environment, viewing them as the figurative monsters in Minato's life.

  Is it indeed a fact that Hori is an abusive teacher who fails to support his students? Was Minato really a victim of Hori's physical and mental abuse? These questions emerge as the narrative transitions to Hori’s perspective. One day, Hori catches Minato in the act of aggressively throwing his classmates' belongings around the classroom. Shocked by such behavior, he steps in to intervene, but accidentally hits Minato in the nose, causing it to bleed, marking the start of the controversy. Hori also sees Minato locking a classmate, Yori, in a bathroom, and starts to suspect Minato might be the actual bully. Over time, Hori realizes that Minato is manipulating events to cast him as a violent teacher, endangering his career. Despite the truth, the school forces Hori to acquiesce to the school authority's demands. Ultimately, under pressure, Hori publicly admits to the accusations and resigns. His life quickly unravels—his relationship ends, and he faces relentless scrutiny from the media and harassment from the community, becoming an outcast. The film shifts its sympathies towards Hori, the initially accused, redirecting the audience's focus to Minato's unjust actions against the innocent teacher. This turn of events leads viewers to see Minato as the antagonist.

  The film's final segment reveals crucial details to the audience. Yori tenderly touches Minato's hair, a gesture of their friendship's value. Minato, while acknowledging their friendship, suggests they avoid being seen together in class to prevent classmates from thinking he is "diseased" like Yori. This fear drives Minato to cut off his hair after returning home, worried about catching Yori's "disease." Nonetheless, their friendship grows stronger as they continue to meet outside school. Minato later learns Yori has been bullied for his effeminacy, and feeling guilty for not intervening, he lashes out in the classroom and implicates Hori in his actions. From Minato's perspective, Hori appears as an irresponsible adult who failed to understand Minato's behavior and protect Yori from bullying. This was their way of making their voices heard, as they feared social ostracization. Additionally, the film reveals the principal, Fushimi, as not heartless but grieving her grandchild, who died in a car accident, and is struggling with her own issues. Minato and Fushimi form an unlikely connection, sharing their innermost feelings. Together, they find solace in blowing a trumpet as loudly as possible, releasing their accumulated pain and frustration.

Top of Form

With the final pieces of the story now in place, the identity of the "monster" is poised to be revealed. Could it be Yori's father who is the true antagonist, guilty of inflicting abuse on Yori for his queerness and for forming a significant bond with another boy? The instinct to find a "monster" to blame is a familiar and comforting practice for humans. This tendency to point fingers helps to soothe feelings of anger during misunderstandings. At first, jumping to conclusions based on incomplete information feels reassuring. Yet, this habit of making quick judgments can hinder our capacity to empathize with others' suffering. As the story unfolds, the audience is encouraged to adopt a wider perspective, exploring the underlying pain and fears of each character. This broader view might reveal that people often adopt defense mechanisms as a response to their own pain. While Yori's father is depicted as abusive and possibly alcoholic, it is conceivable that his actions are the result of personal traumas or societal pressures.

The “Monster” Within Ourselves

In the concluding part of the film, it becomes clear that those around Yori lack empathy and fail to understand his unique expression of love. Through the eyes of Minato and Yori, even Saori and Hori could be perceived as antagonists. Their actions, albeit unintentional, might contribute to the perpetuation of toxic masculinity and the reinforcement of societal norms and stereotypes that clash with the boys' authentic identities. The pressure to adhere to conventional masculinity or societal norms can alienate them, making them feel like outsiders or "monsters" for simply being true to themselves. While adults may offer words of comfort with the best intentions, such advice can sometimes do more harm than good to the children. What is meant to help might actually be the last thing Minato and Yori want to hear, possibly being perceived as a form of abuse or violence from their standpoint.

  Fushimi's words to Minato, "If only some people can have it, that's not happiness.” The idea that happiness is something anyone can have, touches upon a profound truth about exclusion and acceptance. When individuals are alienated or excluded for their differences, the resulting misery stems not just from their uniqueness, but from the lack of acceptance by others. This can force them into a painful choice: conform to society's expectations or endure criticism and judgement. This cycle, if perpetuated, hinders the pursuit of happiness for those considered different.

  Yori, who harbours feelings for Minato, admires him for his positive traits and the profound connection they share, unseen by others. Yet, in a world that prizes heteronormative standards, Yori faces unjust treatment while being labelled as mentally ill as well as ostracised. Had his affections been directed towards a girl, following societal norms, he might have been celebrated. However, because his interest lies in a boy, he is viewed as abnormal, even mentally ill. Despite Yori's innocent feelings towards Minato causing no harm, he suffers emotional and physical pain at the hands of those around him, simply for being true to himself.

  To find refuge from the world's harsh judgments, Yori and Minato retreat to an abandoned train tunnel, creating a safe haven where they can freely express their true selves without fear of abuse or neglect. Within this sanctuary, their love, considered forbidden in the outside world, is no longer restricted. As they merge their souls in this private world, they transform the bleak and dilapidated tunnel into a space filled with colour and life, an environment that mirrors the process of the healing of their injured hearts. Yet, this scenario prompts reflection: if happiness is only achievable in their secluded world and not within the broader society, is it genuinely accessible to everyone, or is it exclusive only to those who are considered "normal"?

Brief Film Review

Kore-eda masterfully creates a narrative in Monster that delves into complex themes such as the constraints of patriarchal masculinity, nuanced family dynamics, and introduces a nuanced portrayal of queerness within the conservative Japanese film industry. By centering the story around young children, he leverages their perceived innocence to forge a deeper connection with the audience. Yet, he makes it clear that the queerness of Minato and Yori is not the film's main point. Instead, the narrative emphasizes the significance of perspective, the power of empathy, and the acceptance of differences. The blend of familiarity and strangeness in Monster triggers a spectrum of emotions, reflecting the intricacies of human relationships. The film's raw, unfiltered portrayal adds a profound sense of humanity.

  Revisiting the initial question, "Who is the monster?" The Sogang Herald encourages readers to move beyond cynical assumptions grounded in personal biases and narrow perspectives. The question invites us to consider the potential within each of us to become the "monster" in someone else's story, highlighting the importance of understanding and empathy in our interactions with others.

By Dayun Youn (Culture Reporter)

dynella@sogang.ac.kr