Minari

Lee Isaac Chung has made a film that will endure.

Chung and his cinematographer Lachlan Milne photograph the landscape beautifully, and you see how both Jacob and David can be entranced by its vastness, even for all the trouble it causes.

What makes this more than just another formulaic feelgood film is the grit with which Chung evokes the hardscrabble lives of his characters, balancing the dreamier elements of the drama with a naturalism that keeps it rooted in reality.

A rare film about assimilation that can be equally cherished by both poles of the American political landscape. And everybody in between.

Minari is a story of the American Dream. But Chung's brilliance is in how he adds depth and complexity to those foundational ideas - it's in the spaces in between that we find love, loss, hope, and regret.

Though two last-act sequences dovetail a little too neatly, the word that covers this cinematic experience is "raw".

A touching, bittersweet insight into cultural dilemmas and the often harsh realities that come with juggling dreams and keeping your family afloat.

During two hours, Chung re-creates the American dream, told through the eyes of those who were there to build it. In doing so, he’s created a modern classic. An emotional relative to Steinbeck, where we can experience the full scale of human emotion.

Minari is incredibly tender, and woefully honest.

Lee Isaac Chung's look at a Korean family immigrating to Arkansas is a tantalizing experience filled with so much togetherness, hardship, and true beauty.