The Weight of Unequal Love:
Ahn Gwon-tae’s My Brother
The story follows a classic melodramatic setup, but the central triangle is formed by the members of a broken family: a single mother and her two sons. The entire film is essentially a flashback, unfolding from the opening scene. We experience the past events and the final conclusions through the perspective of the younger brother. The head of the family left after the birth of the first child, unable to bear that his son was born with a cleft lip—a "disability" in his eyes. At the time, the mother was already pregnant with the second child, and after his birth, she fought a perpetual battle to sustain the small family and provide for the surgeries awaiting the older son.
Yet, the conflict doesn't ripen due to financial hardships, but because the mother’s love, distributed unequally between the two boys, forces them onto divergent paths. The older brother groans under the weight of the constant sacrifices the family makes for him. He is the "weak" one, for whom only constant high performance and exemplary behavior offer a chance for advancement. The mother directs all her attention toward him, observing with inexplicable blindness the struggles of the younger son. The younger brother vents his deficiencies and frustrations through increasing aggression, essentially dominating his older brother and taking revenge for his own exclusion by repeatedly humiliating him. The film is, in fact, his "coming-of-age" story, where several low points and an ultimate catastrophe bring about change.
Aside from the ending, the film remains highly watchable and genuinely touching. The performances of the two actors playing the brothers play a particularly large role in this. The younger brother is brought to life by Won Bin, who, in the skin of the brawling, loud-mouthed, and unscrupulous sibling, often overacts using boisterous methods. Interestingly, however, it is precisely through this that he makes us feel the presence of his true, love-starved being throughout. In his moments of resistance, his fascinating, determined gaze and the stubborn resolve radiating from him remain memorable. On the other pole, the older brother is played by Shin Ha-kyun (whom we previously saw as the green-haired hero of Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance) using the opposite acting toolkit. His subtle gestures and hidden feelings are obvious but must be read from his slightest tremors. His rebellion, however, is resolute; while physically maintaining the character's weakness, he still displays great inner strength. In the role of the mother, Kim Hae-sook also manages to step out of her narrowly defined frame, and we see her true face especially in her moments of cheerfulness.
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| Director Ahn Gwon-tae |
A virtue of the film is its gritty portrayal of the environment; it unflinchingly shows the internal hierarchies of school gangs and the presence of criminal syndicates in the adult world. Among the supporting cast, we find excellent performances, particularly Jo Jin-woong in the role of the intellectually disabled Du-sik.
This film is director Ahn Gwon-tae’s debut, and all things considered, it is a likable and promising work.