exploring South Korea through film
- Bebhinn Flanagan
- Aug 23
- 5 min read
South Korea, but make it cinema.
I’m counting down to an upcoming trip to South Korea with the intensity of a K-drama finale. And because I’m the kind of traveller who likes her holidays with a side of film trivia, I've mapped my itinerary using one of the very things that has made South Korea a dream destination for me: cinema.
Let’s be honest. Nothing makes you want to board a train across a country quite like a zombie 🧟 outbreak.
start in seoul with burning
We kick off in Seoul with Burning (2018), Lee Chang-dong’s slow-drip psychological mystery that lingers long after the credits roll. Loosely adapted from a Haruki Murakami short story, the film explores themes of alienation, economic disparity, and the slow corrosion of certainty. It's a masterclass in performance, with Steven Yeun perfecting subtle acting.
Seoul’s chaotic calm - a city of glittering high-rises and hidden alleyways - mirrors the tension simmering just beneath the film’s surface. Burning uses its urban setting to amplify a sense of social detachment and eerie stillness. Even the Han River 💦 becomes a character in itself: wide, watchful, and oddly quiet.
watch for: the pauses that do more work than dialogue.
visit for vibes: Han River for a slow and reflective wander, and Ikseon-dong for charm and coffee shops.
head to gyeongju with gyeongju
Next stop: Gyeongju. The former capital of the Silla dynasty and a treasure trove of ancient Korean heritage. And also the setting of Gyeongju (2014), Zhang Lu’s delicate, slow-burning film about a man searching for a memory - or maybe meaning.
It’s one of those quiet films where not much happens, and yet everything feels heavy with significance. The cultural backdrop of Gyeongju - with its Buddhist relics, burial mounds, and tranquil teahouses 🫖 - anchors the film’s drifting characters. It’s introspective, much like the city itself.
watch for: the ache of unsaid things.
visit for vibes: Anapji Pond for still waters and big feelings, and Cheomseongdae Observatory for a piece of subtle time-travel.
ride the rails to busan with train to busan
Zombies on a train, dads doing their emotional best, and a crash course in class struggle. Train to Busan (2016), directed by Yeon Sang-ho, blends action-horror with piercing social critique. It’s adrenaline-fuelled but surprisingly tender.
Set almost entirely on a KTX train 🚆 from Seoul to Busan, it’s a biting reflection on inequality, selfishness vs sacrifice, and the limits of safety in a crisis. The film paints Busan as both a hopeful escape and a last stand - an endpoint that doesn’t promise resolution, only survival.
watch for: emotional devastation on a high-speed train.
visit for vibes: Busan Station, but please, no running.
stay in busan with the drug king
Staying in Busan, we switch gears with The Drug King (2018), directed by Woo Min-ho. Based on real events, it follows Lee Doo-sam - a small-time smuggler who climbs the criminal ladder to become a drug empire kingpin in 1970s Busan.
The film paints Busan as a city on the edge - gritty, glamorous, and corrupted by power. Its port becomes both a symbol and a setting: a place where fortunes are made and undone. It's a stylised, noir-like lens on South Korea’s post-war industrial boom and the dark underbelly that came with it.
watch for: swagger, smuggling, and a descent into moral ruin.
visit for vibes: Jagalchi Fish Market for loud, chaotic energy, and Yongdusan Park for sweeping views over a city built on contradictions.
fly to jeju with a moment to remember
We change pace and tone entirely with A Moment to Remember (2004), directed by John H. Lee. It’s a romantic melodrama about a young couple facing the onset of early-onset Alzheimer’s, and it does not hold back on emotional devastation 😭.
Jeju Island’s natural beauty - volcanic landscapes, black rock beaches, lush greenery - forms a poignant contrast to the emotional decay portrayed in the film. The island becomes a space of escapism.
watch for: love, memory, and the long goodbye.
visit for vibes: Seongsan Ilchulbong for dramatic landscapes, and the beaches of Jeju, ideal for staring into the distance.
bonus round: along with the gods
Finally, we have Along with the Gods: The Two Worlds (2017), a high-concept fantasy film directed by Kim Yong-hwa. It explores the afterlife through the lens of Korean mythology, where souls undergo a series of trials ⚖️ to determine their fate.
The film fuses Buddhist and Confucian beliefs about karma, duty, and redemption - alongside stunning visuals and emotional arcs.
watch for: existential drama and celestial bureaucracy.
visit for vibes: though it’s not set in one place, its rich visual world feels mythic and reverent, making Gyeongbokgung Palace in Seoul a fitting real-world stand-in for its grandeur.
honourable mentions, and more emotional damage
There were far too many films that are just too good not to mention, despite my best attempt at keeping this list just to my itinerary. This could’ve been a term-long module in a film degree. But for now, consider these your extra credit.
Parasite (2019): The one that changed the game. Class warfare, semi-basements, and peaches. It’s a genre-hopping masterclass that swings from black comedy to psychological horror to devastating realism - and never misses a beat.
The Handmaiden (2016): Park Chan-wook’s erotically charged psychological thriller set during the Japanese occupation. It’s a gothic maze of deception, romance, and absolutely stunning hanbok. Every frame is a painting. Every twist, deliciously sharp.
Minari (2020): A tender portrait of a Korean-American family chasing their version of the American Dream. Technically set in rural Arkansas, but emotionally tethered to Korean identity, intergenerational tension, and the power of resilience. Bring tissues.
The Wailing (2016): A chilling mix of folklore, horror, and detective drama set in a small village plagued by mysterious deaths. Equal parts terrifying and philosophically unnerving.
Past Lives (2023): A quietly devastating tale of love, timing, and the lives we don't live. It drifts between Seoul and New York, weaving childhood friendship with adult melancholy. Subtle, sharp, and beautifully still.
Oldboy (2003): The cult classic of revenge cinema. Violent, stylish, and wildly original. Features one of the most iconic hallway fight scenes ever filmed - and a twist that lives rent-free.
Silenced (2011): Based on real events, this gut-wrenching drama exposed abuse in a school for hearing-impaired children. The public outcry it sparked led to actual legal reform in South Korea. It’s hard to watch - and impossible to ignore.
your turn
So yes, this is technically an itinerary. But really, it’s a love letter to South Korean cinema, with movies that invite you into their cities, their contradictions, and their struggles.
I’ll be following this route next month, ready to dodge zombies and have a full-on emotional montage moment by the sea.
Now you: what’s your favourite South Korean film? Bonus points if it made you Google flight prices.
Turas maith,
Bebs
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