To protect something, are we willing to become monsters? The film <Monster> relentlessly throws this unsettling question into the audience's heart. The title <Monster>, emblazoned over the faces of two children staring directly ahead, implants a powerful prejudice in itself. Captivated by this intense poster, the audience experiences how easily prejudice can dominate our minds even before the film begins. This is not just a visual shock, but a sophisticated initial device from the director, hinting at the core theme that runs through the entire film.
Most viewers would have expected a destructive incident caused by cunning children, judging only by the poster and title. As there have been quite a few works with such material, that hasty judgment is, in a way, natural. However, this is a deliberately set trap by director Hirokazu Kore-eda. The director guides the audience to harbor prejudice from the start and search for the 'monster' within the film. Through this process, the audience becomes not a critical observer, but a party who, like the characters in the film, misses the truth due to misunderstanding and prejudice.
The film opens with a scene of a building in a neighborhood engulfed in massive flames. At home, mother Saori Mugino (Sakura Ando) and her son Minato Mugino (Soya Kurokawa) watch this scene indifferently. Against the backdrop of the burning fire, the mother and son have a bizarre and out-of-place conversation: "If you transplant a pig's brain into a human, is it a human or a pig?" This scene ignites the audience's suspicion and serves as a prelude, heralding the complexity and strangeness of the events to come.
From the audience's perspective, there's a strong belief that in a work by a master like Hirokazu Kore-eda, there are no meaningless scenes or lines. This belief soon acts as a prejudice, leading the audience to sense something extraordinary or dangerous in Minato's odd question and label him as the 'monster.' However, the film immediately overturns this expectation. Minato is portrayed not as a cunning child, but rather as a pure and gentle boy with deep troubles, shattering the audience's initial deduction.
Just as suspicion towards Minato begins to fade, another character, Yori Hoshikawa (Hinata Hiiragi), appears, and the film's tension enters a new phase. At first, Yori seems to be the aggressor bullying Minato, but it is implied that his actions were not of his own will. Soon, the two become closer than anyone, and the audience's suspicion naturally shifts to Yori. In this way, the film constantly changes the suspect, suspends judgment on what the truth is, and pushes the audience into confusion.
The most significant feature of this film is that it reconstructs and presents a single incident from the perspectives of different characters. The reality of all the events, which began with a fire in a neighborhood building, transforms into completely different shapes as it passes through the viewpoints of the mother, the son, and the homeroom teacher. This clearly shows how differently people interpret and remember the same event based on their circumstances, upbringing, and values. It forces us to confront the uncomfortable truth that absolute truth may not exist.
When following the incident from a specific character's viewpoint, the other characters seem irrational or even malicious. The audience empathizes with one character and hastily concludes that the other is the 'monster.' But a moment later, the film shows the world from the perspective of that very 'monster.' Then, surprisingly, his actions begin to make sense, and one starts to think that he, too, might be an unfairly treated victim. This shift in perspective makes one realize how dangerous hasty judgments can be.
The root of all problems was, in fact, a trivial fight and misunderstanding between children. However, this small crack expands into a massive suspicion of school violence and teacher's child abuse. As characters from their respective positions add lies to defend themselves or to protect something precious, the incident spirals out of control. Like a small snowball rolling down to cause a huge avalanche, the accumulation of trivial lies completes a tragedy that leads everyone to ruin.
It is commonly believed that children do not lie, but at times, children tell more plausible lies than adults. And most adults, unable to ignore a child's tears, believe those lies. This is not just a story about children. Adults, too, willingly choose to lie when they fear what they might lose by telling the truth. This is because they believe that protecting their immediate safety or something precious is more important than the value of truth.
In the end, we all live our lives telling lies to protect something of our own. The moment we prioritize fully protecting our own world over deliberating on what is truly right, we can become a 'monster' in the eyes of others. The film <Monster> exposes the potential for monstrosity latent within us all, regardless of whether we are adults or children. It is not a story of a particular villain, but a story of all of us, who can become a monster at any time amidst prejudice, misunderstanding, and a desperate need for self-preservation.
Most viewers would have expected a destructive incident caused by cunning children, judging only by the poster and title. As there have been quite a few works with such material, that hasty judgment is, in a way, natural. However, this is a deliberately set trap by director Hirokazu Kore-eda. The director guides the audience to harbor prejudice from the start and search for the 'monster' within the film. Through this process, the audience becomes not a critical observer, but a party who, like the characters in the film, misses the truth due to misunderstanding and prejudice.
The film opens with a scene of a building in a neighborhood engulfed in massive flames. At home, mother Saori Mugino (Sakura Ando) and her son Minato Mugino (Soya Kurokawa) watch this scene indifferently. Against the backdrop of the burning fire, the mother and son have a bizarre and out-of-place conversation: "If you transplant a pig's brain into a human, is it a human or a pig?" This scene ignites the audience's suspicion and serves as a prelude, heralding the complexity and strangeness of the events to come.
From the audience's perspective, there's a strong belief that in a work by a master like Hirokazu Kore-eda, there are no meaningless scenes or lines. This belief soon acts as a prejudice, leading the audience to sense something extraordinary or dangerous in Minato's odd question and label him as the 'monster.' However, the film immediately overturns this expectation. Minato is portrayed not as a cunning child, but rather as a pure and gentle boy with deep troubles, shattering the audience's initial deduction.
Just as suspicion towards Minato begins to fade, another character, Yori Hoshikawa (Hinata Hiiragi), appears, and the film's tension enters a new phase. At first, Yori seems to be the aggressor bullying Minato, but it is implied that his actions were not of his own will. Soon, the two become closer than anyone, and the audience's suspicion naturally shifts to Yori. In this way, the film constantly changes the suspect, suspends judgment on what the truth is, and pushes the audience into confusion.
The most significant feature of this film is that it reconstructs and presents a single incident from the perspectives of different characters. The reality of all the events, which began with a fire in a neighborhood building, transforms into completely different shapes as it passes through the viewpoints of the mother, the son, and the homeroom teacher. This clearly shows how differently people interpret and remember the same event based on their circumstances, upbringing, and values. It forces us to confront the uncomfortable truth that absolute truth may not exist.
When following the incident from a specific character's viewpoint, the other characters seem irrational or even malicious. The audience empathizes with one character and hastily concludes that the other is the 'monster.' But a moment later, the film shows the world from the perspective of that very 'monster.' Then, surprisingly, his actions begin to make sense, and one starts to think that he, too, might be an unfairly treated victim. This shift in perspective makes one realize how dangerous hasty judgments can be.
The root of all problems was, in fact, a trivial fight and misunderstanding between children. However, this small crack expands into a massive suspicion of school violence and teacher's child abuse. As characters from their respective positions add lies to defend themselves or to protect something precious, the incident spirals out of control. Like a small snowball rolling down to cause a huge avalanche, the accumulation of trivial lies completes a tragedy that leads everyone to ruin.
It is commonly believed that children do not lie, but at times, children tell more plausible lies than adults. And most adults, unable to ignore a child's tears, believe those lies. This is not just a story about children. Adults, too, willingly choose to lie when they fear what they might lose by telling the truth. This is because they believe that protecting their immediate safety or something precious is more important than the value of truth.
In the end, we all live our lives telling lies to protect something of our own. The moment we prioritize fully protecting our own world over deliberating on what is truly right, we can become a 'monster' in the eyes of others. The film <Monster> exposes the potential for monstrosity latent within us all, regardless of whether we are adults or children. It is not a story of a particular villain, but a story of all of us, who can become a monster at any time amidst prejudice, misunderstanding, and a desperate need for self-preservation.











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