South Korean film “Birth” was often difficult to watch for me. Because I saw its trailer a few weeks ago, I braced myself even before the screening was started, and, boy, it turns out to be as grimly intense as I could possibly expect. To be frank with you, I silently winced and cringed a lot during my viewing, but the movie still held my attention to the end thanks to its competent direction and admirable lead performances, so I will tell you in detail on why it is worthwhile to watch, even though I am still trembling inside my mind at present.

The opening part of the film slowly establishes the fairly good relationship between a young woman named Jae-i (Han Hae-in) and her boyfriend Geon-woo (Lee Han-ju). While Geon-woo works at a private English academy, Jae-i is a promising writer who has recently finished her second novel, and, according to her female editor, it looks better than the first one. As a matter of fact, the editor suggests that Jae-i should quickly move onto writing the next one, and Jae-i has no problem with that at all as becoming more confident than before. While she begins to write in a small flat where she and Geon-woo have lived, Geon-woo is willing to support her as before, and it looks like everything will be just fine for them as usual.

However, alas, there comes an unexpected matter for both of them. On one day, Jae-i goes to a women’s clinic for a little medical problem, and, what do you know, she turns out to have been pregnant for at least 3 months. Because she and Geon-woo agreed on not having a baby and have always been cautious about that, they are flabbergasted a lot by this surprising news, and Jae-i quickly becomes quite anxious and confused to say the least. She is currently in the middle of what may be the most important point in her writing career, and having a baby is certainly the last thing she wants right now.

Naturally, Jae-i decides to have an abortion as soon possible, but then she comes to have doubts on her initial decisions. A doctor tells her that abortion can be quite risky for her rather fragile physical condition, and, above all, Geon-woo is not particularly willing to accept her initial decision. He promises to her that he will do everything for not only her pregnancy but also her writing career, and his sincere promise eventually makes Jae-i change her mind.

However, as many of you have already expected, things soon do not go that well for both of them within a few months. Jae-i really tries a lot for balancing herself between her work and her ongoing pregnancy, but she only finds herself quite frustrated with how she often becomes emotionally and physically vulnerable – and how that frequently affects her writing process. She manages to complete her next novel, but then it is not accepted that well by her editor, who kindly recommends Jae-i to take some break for her pregnancy.

However, Jae-i cannot help but become more worried because her pregnancy may terminate her writing career, and, unfortunately, Geon-woo does not provide her enough support and help as becoming busier with several matters at his workplace. The director of his private English academy promises him promotion in exchange of doing some extra works, but he soon comes to realize that he was deceived from the very start, and his resulting anger and frustration exacerbate the accumulating conflict between him and Jae-i.

As we come to brace ourselves more for what may inevitably happen sooner or later, the screenplay by director/writer Yoo Ji-young, who previously made “Duck Town” (2017), slowly builds up tension under the surface. Although its running time (155 minutes) is a bit too long in my trivial opinion, the movie steadily engages us via realistic mood and details, and the gradual implosion of Jae-i and Geon-woo’s relationship is illustrated with considerable emotional intensity. Around the narrative point where they inadvertently come to hurt not only each other but also themselves, we are certainly shocked but not that surprised, because we have closely followed and observed what has been angering and frustrating them along the story.

The movie surely depends a lot on the strong performances of its two lead performers, who do not hesitate to delve into their respective characters’ human flaws. Han Hae-in is constantly compelling as palpably conveying to us her character’s dynamic emotional conflicts, and that is why it is a bit relieving for us to watch when Jae-i happens to have a little unexpected moment of empathy and consolation later in the story. On the opposite, Lee Han-ju is equally convincing as ably complementing his co-star, and I sincerely wish that his increasingly pathetic character will be an effective lesson to anyone with a pregnant girlfriend or spouse.

Overall, “Birth” is a tough stuff to say the least, but I recommend it mainly for being another well-made South Korean film about pregnancy after Namkoong Sun’s “Ten Months” (2020). While I think “Ten Months” is a better one, both of these two movies will definitely show you how things can be grim and difficult for pregnant women in the South Korean society, and you will not be surprised by how the birth rate in the South Korean society has been hitting the new bottom again and again these days. Things must really be changed for women as well as the whole South Korean society right now, but, seriously, will that ever happen, I wonder?