Few countries have been crushing it with dark thrillers as well and as consistently as South Korea has over the past couple of decades. Memories of Murder, The Chaser, I Saw the Devil, Lady Vengeance, A Hard Day, Bedevilled, Confession of Murder... the list is legion as Korean filmmakers seem well-suited towards smart, entertaining, and frequently grim thrills.
A Girl with Closed Eyes isn't on par with any of the aforementioned films, but it still earns a watch on the strength of its two leads and a captivating -- albeit more than a little janky -- narrative.
A celebrated author is shot dead in his home after announcing a sequel to his bestselling novel about a young girl's abduction. Standing over his corpse with a smoking gun in her hand is In-seon (Kim Min-ha), and while she doesn't deny having shot the man, she'll only speak with one person, a female detective named Min-ju (Choi Hee-seo). It seems the two were once childhood friends, and something from their shared past holds weight over this present situation.
A Girl with Closed Eyes is a sad, engaging, and satisfying watch by the time the end credits roll, but getting there involves a couple hurdles in the third act that many viewers just won't survive unscathed. No spoilers here, but there are a pair of reveals regarding character choices that don't feel earned and definitely don't make sense, but it's a credit to the two leads that emotionally invested audiences will still make it out the other side for an emotionally charged conclusion.
While some elements of the mystery at the heart of the film feel fairly easy to suss out in advance, the core truth of it all lands with a truly heavy heart. It reminds favorably of the mystery novels by American author Thomas H. Cook -- key elements of a crime are plain as day, but it's only at the end that we realize the dark, painful truths sitting within the survivors. (Fans of that vibe should check out Cook's wickedly good and heartbreaking Mortal Memory and Instruments of Night, in particular.)
That weight is carried and portrayed beautifully by both Kim and Choi. Their characters' shared past, once revealed, is agonizingly poignant, and both actors shift from some combination of stoic and disillusioned to something altogether new -- fragile, but resilient, damned but hopeful. You can feel the pain of their past and present collide, and the result might just be powerful enough to earn redemption.
Both are haunted to one degree or another, but Kim's character is introduced mid-trauma. She's already in distress when we meet her, and Kim walks a fine line with her that's never wholly just one thing. Similarly, Choi gets to play big city cop in Podunk mountain town who slowly comes to realize the bigger contrast rests between the truth and the lies she's been telling herself to get by. Both actors are terrific, and again, if you connect with them, it'll be a lot easier to move past those back half story issues.
Writer/director Chun Sun-young makes his feature debut here, and third-act iffiness aside, it's clear that he's a filmmaker to watch. A handful of genre-infused set pieces add suspense and thrills, and he stages the interrogation scenes with a firm grip on tension and performances.
A Girl with Closed Eyes is a thriller about guilt. The guilt of not speaking up, the guilt of someone else's suffering, the guilt of taking a life, the guilt of a populace hungry for other people's guilt. Drill down through the noise, selfishness, and despair, though, and you'll discover that we're at our best when we give others our voice, our ears, and our heart. We just so rarely choose to do so.