Story: Three women at different points in their lives come together to escape their painful situations. The three set out to locate a mythical island off the coast of South Korea which is rumored to possess the power to take away all of one’s sorrows.

Review: Never have I felt like such a sense of empathy while watching a Korean film. Song Il-gon has managed to create something so immensely intimate and candid that one can not help but feel moved by its tale. From FLOWER ISLAND’s opening sequence we are introduced to Yu-jin, a twenty-something singer at the beginning of her career whose recent contraction of malignant throat cancer insures the end of her voice and life as she knows it. The second part of this eventual trio is Hye-na, a seventeen year old girl who self inflicts the abortion of her unwanted child in a public bathroom. Lastly we are introduced to Oak-nam, a mother who prostitutes herself out in order to obtain a piano for her child and ultimately gets thrown out of her home because of it.

It is quite amazing how a dramatic film’s plot can move to its conclusion without beating a dead horse. Far too often do we find directors over compensating for a paper thin plot with lots of emotional driven double talk. Not so in Flower Island though. This film moves like a road trip, only making the occasional pit stop to fill up on emotion and check under the hood for the much appreciated comic relief. At the same time though, this little known indy film manages to devote an ample amount of time to each woman and the anguish she bares.

Our journey begins with a bus ride. Oak-nam and Hye-na become companions in the most bizarre way while heading towards the south sea. A surreal moment with an unaccommodating bus driver sends the two pairing up and trudging through the snow driven Korean countryside towards their destination. While on their hike back to civilization the two come across a seemingly abandoned car, which upon further inspection reveals the remnants of a near frozen woman (Yu-jin). The two proceed to drag her inside and bring her back from the brink of death. A small amount of dialogue transpires between the three and Oak-nam reveals her plans to go to Flower Island. The spark of hope begins to smolder and the three set off to regain the happiness they are all so desperately in search of.

While on their weary expedition they receive the occasional lift from a few colorful characters that add a bit of variation to this dark and dreary emotional palette. While there is a small amount of humor to be found we soon find that the strangers also have pains of their own to one extent or another. The levity comes in small doses and does not stay so long as to seem overbearing but manages to work well without stomping on the overall flow of things.

While the visible emotional landscape of this picture is somewhat bleak at times, there is also a strong, underlying sense of hope throughout. The three find just enough strength in one another to aid themselves in reaching their destination, both spiritually and geographically. The film is not so much about interaction, though, as it is a portrait of the female protagonist. The relationships that form between them are as much a means to an end as they are focal points for the premise.

Also notable are the great acting and direction in this film. It has a great documentary/art film sensibility to it that only amplifies the “fly on the wall” aspect. The shifts between the extreme realism of documentary filmmaking and the abstract surrealism of an art house picture are seamless at times and quite abrasive at others. The director manages to manipulate the audience in such a way in order to pull the proper emotions from the viewer. This display of control is aided by the brilliant performances from a cast of relative amateurs. There’s truly something to be said for an artist without much experience, particularly in the medium of film. These women appear to portray these roles just as though they were experiences of their own. That is, of course, the desired effect when making a film but it too often is not the ultimate result.

FLOWER ISLAND stands as an outstanding addition to the world of independent, Korean filmmaking. A solid cast, brilliant camera work, and impeccable direction brings qualities to this film that will please and intrigue even the most jaded of dramatic movie fans.