Review: MINARI

Jacob and Monica Yi are chicken sexers. That the job description is nowhere near as fun as it sounds is a good indicator of this film's reason for being. I don't mean that it is dull. They've moved first from Korea to the USA and then from California to Arkansas to transition from chicken sexing (you'll see it in action, wonder why you never thought of it before and then ask what happens to the ones that won't be hens before it's answered in the dialogue) to farming. This is where the dream meets the reality. They've found a fair sized block of land to cultivate and know that specialising in Korean style vegetables usually shipped from California is a potential winner. But starting a farm is hard, maintaining it harder still and making a living from it excruciatingly slow. They have two children (one of each) who are assimilating to American culture. The rest is about keeping everything manageable. This, in short, is a film about living, doing it and making one.

The importation of Monica's mother to help with the kids adds the missing piece of character. David, a little boy with a hole in his heart, despite initial resentment forms a strong bond with her as she provides genuine if playful life advice in direct contrast with his father's more guarded words (he explains what happens to the male chicks to David with a Dad's lie). It is she who brings the title to the screen as she plants the minari at the creek where it grows wild and as fast as weeds but is crisp and useful as a kind of celery. It is she who tells David about the error of him trying to scare a snake away.

This film is that kind of thing all the way through but lest you consider that a promise of listless torture consider that how these daily life events are presented gives you plenty of scope to reflect on what they mean to these people and how easily you could slot yourself into these situations. The trouble with such a gentle approach can be a perceived need in some cases to sledge in a big crisis out of nowhere: the Yi's could face racism, legal demons or intra-familial turbulence (and there is that astronomical telescope of David's heart problem). Not here; the writing is so deliberate and delicate that none of these things find resort; it's just the rolling out of life and how we try to cube it into plans.

Best known cast member is Jacob played by Steven Yuen. His arc in Walking Dead took him from figure of fun to one of the most popular characters, scooping up depth every season. The last I saw of him was as the creepy urbane Gatsby figure in Burning. Everything is reined back for Jacob and it blends easily with the rest of the performances. Yeri Han allows genuine warmth through her near constant sternness. Alan Kim is loveable as David and Yuon Yuh-Jung is exhilarating to watch as Grandma. This is fine ensemble playing.

This film gets to me personally for two reasons: it reminds me of my grandparents who were immigrant farmers (Russian) and there's a whole branch of my family that established itself in Arkansas (went and met them in situ a few years back and wish I could have stayed longer). It isn't hard to appreciate the links between any kind of family-wide venture in one's own life and this earthbound tale which is why it's so easy to appreciate its universality. It talks big but very quietly.