Burning (2018), directed by Lee Chang-dong, is a Korean crime drama that intricately weaves psychological tension, societal critique, and existential inquiry into a slow-burning narrative. The story follows Jong-su, a young man who aspires to be a writer but struggles with the monotony of his life and the frustrations of a working-class existence. A chance encounter with Hae-mi, a girl from his childhood neighborhood, sparks curiosity and a tentative connection.
Initially, their reunion suggests a potential romance, but the entry of Ben, a wealthy, enigmatic man with peculiar habits, disrupts the dynamic and introduces an unsettling sense of ambiguity. Starring Ah-In Yoo as Jong-su, Jong-seo Jun as Hae-mi, and Steven Yeun as Ben, the film has been compared to the works of Bong Joon-ho (Parasite, Snowpiercer) for its subtle social commentary and layered narrative.
At its core, Burning explores themes of class tension, alienation, obsession, and the search for meaning. The film is deliberately ambiguous, operating on both literal and metaphorical levels, challenging viewers to question the reality of events and the motivations of its characters.
The contrast between Jong-su’s working-class struggle and Ben’s affluent, carefree lifestyle highlights the socio-economic disparities that underpin the story, while Hae-mi’s free-spirited nature embodies curiosity, desire, and transience. Lee Chang-dong’s direction deliberately blurs the line between truth and imagination, leaving much of the interpretation to the audience.
Lee Chang-dong has suggested two ways to interpret the conclusion of Burning. In the literal reading, Ben is a sociopathic serial killer who murders Hae-mi, prompting Jong-su to seek revenge, ultimately killing and burning Ben. In the metaphorical reading, Ben is not a murderer; Hae-mi simply leaves to start a new life, and the violent events are part of Jong-su’s imagination as he writes his novel. This duality of endings underscores the central tension in the film: the contrast between objective reality and subjective perception, raising questions about morality, desire, and the human impulse to find meaning in chaos.
Subtle Clues Reveal Ben’s Potential Danger and Symbolic Destruction of Vibrant Lives
The narrative provides several subtle hints that suggest Ben could be a serial killer. He claims he has never cried and describes his work vaguely as “playing,” creating a sense of detachment from normal human emotion. In his apartment, a box of women’s accessories functions as a potential trophy collection, echoing classic serial killer motifs. Ben’s fascination with free-spirited women like Hae-mi, who are independent and unrestrained, may indicate a pattern in his choice of targets. Moreover, his enigmatic hobby of “burning greenhouses” serves as both a literal and symbolic act of erasure, aligning him with destructive impulses.
Yoo Ah-in as Lee Jong-su (Burning (2018)/CGV Arthouse)One of the more enigmatic elements of the story is Hae-mi’s tale about a well from her childhood. She claims to have fallen into it at age seven, yet neither her neighbors nor her family consistently corroborates her story, leaving Jong-su and the audience uncertain about her reliability. This element exemplifies the film’s use of ambiguity: it questions the authenticity of memory, truth, and personal narrative. The well, along with other inconsistencies like her cat Boiler, keeps viewers in a constant state of doubt, reflecting the film’s broader thematic preoccupation with perception and deception.
Ben’s hobby of burning greenhouses carries both a literal and metaphorical significance. While he describes the act as natural and uncriminal, it symbolically represents the eradication of nurturing and vibrant things in the world, particularly women like Hae-mi who embody warmth, curiosity, and vitality. In the serial killer interpretation, this becomes chillingly literal: Ben seeks out women with these traits and disposes of them. Metaphorically, the greenhouses represent ambitions, beauty, and life that Ben feels entitled to destroy or erase, a reflection of envy, social detachment, and a nihilistic worldview.
Jong-su Seeks Personal Justice Amid Ambiguity Between Reality, Fiction, and Hae-mi’s Disappearance
Jong-su refrains from going to the authorities after Hae-mi’s disappearance, understanding that concrete evidence against Ben is lacking. The cat, the women’s accessories, and other signs are circumstantial, leaving him with no legal recourse. This parallels his father’s history of taking matters into his own hands, reinforcing generational patterns of personal justice.
The film culminates in Jong-su killing Ben, an act that is ambiguous in motivation, whether as a literal revenge for Hae-mi’s murder or a fictionalized dramatization within his novel. Ben’s apparent willingness to be caught further complicates the moral reading of this climax, suggesting themes of complicity, resignation, and agency.
A significant portion of the film can be interpreted as Jong-su’s novel, which fictionalizes real-life events to grapple with his emotions and class frustrations. While Ben appears refined, cultured, and kind, in reality, Jong-su’s imagination imposes darkness upon him, transforming him into a serial killer in the narrative. This fictionalization allows Jong-su to process feelings of inferiority, jealousy, and helplessness, giving a story structure and conflict that reality lacks. In this reading, the gruesome acts attributed to Ben exist primarily as literary devices rather than real events.
Hae-mi’s disappearance is pivotal, both narratively and thematically. From the outset, she expresses curiosity about vanishing and living as though she never existed. Her interactions with Jong-su reveal her longing for connection, yet his passivity and misjudgments push her toward departure. The arrangement of her belongings, the departure of her cat, and her decision to leave reflect her desire to erase her current life and begin anew. Jong-su’s misunderstanding and harsh judgment, including labeling her a wh*re, crystallize the gap between intention and perception, resulting in irreversible emotional consequences.
Burning intentionally blurs the line between reality and Jong-su’s creative interpretation. Events leading up to Hae-mi’s final visit are likely grounded in reality, whereas subsequent discoveries—such as the alleged murder of Hae-mi, Ben’s trophy collection, and Jong-su’s revenge—exist within the realm of fiction. This dual narrative reinforces the film’s exploration of perception, desire, and the human need to assign meaning to the inexplicable. By leaving the truth ambiguous, Lee Chang-dong invites the audience to grapple with uncertainty, ultimately making Burning a meditation on loneliness, obsession, and the fragile boundary between imagination and reality.
