Burning is a difficult film to summarise in a neat soundbite. It’s a tricky labyrinth, slow in pace but always surprising at every turn. Yeun plays the enigmatic Ben, an upper-class bachelor fighting for the affections of Shin Hae-mi (Jeon Jong-seo) while keeping an eye on aspiring writer Lee Jong-su (Yoo Ah-in). But it’s reductive to describe Burning simply as a love triangle film. There’s something much darker and alluring that lurks underneath its prolonged mystery. Within its complex narrative, the film covers class divisions, toxic masculinity and psychopaths, among other things.
While viewing Burning, it’s easy to see why the director recruited Yeun for the film. He describes his casting as an “independent freak accident,” but the role is so perfectly suited to him that it’s impossible to imagine anyone else in Ben’s shoes. Burning weaponises Yeun’s nice guy persona to the highest degree. Ben is courteous to Jong-su to a fault; his pleasantries seem like part of a facade. That wall breaks down, for just a moment, when he divulges that he has the peculiar hobby of burning down greenhouses. At that moment, one may suspect that there is something else, something more disturbing, that he is hiding. Those suspicions never get resolved, however. The joy of Burning is that it forces the viewer to fill in the blanks.
Yeun’s place as an immigrant informs the character greatly, and the film takes advantage of that. The many details of Yeun’s layered performance might be lost on the anglophone viewer: Ben’s Korean is textbook accurate, creating an uncomfortable contrast with the colloquial language of Hae-mi and Jong-su. It’s Yeun’s Americanisms that make Ben such an unsettling character — in Jong-su’s eyes, Ben is otherworldly.
It’s this aspect of Yeun’s performance that I was most interested in understanding. I told him about my own experiences as an immigrant: I’m British-Asian, but I have always felt like an outsider when I return to the Philippines — a place I have zero ties to apart from genetics. Yeun had a similar feeling about working in Korea. “When I was filming Okja, I was very much made aware of that double-consciousness aspect of things,” Yeun said. “You are a man with no country, ultimately, and I think that’s true of everybody. I know we want to lay claim to countries or borders, but those aren’t necessarily real things, we’ve just made them for ourselves.”
Despite all this, Yeun has reconciled with this feeling of loneliness, accepting that his unique cultural identity is what makes him who he is: “I found a sense of strength in it. Not me on my island — but my experience is my experience.” It may have triggered mixed feelings, but with Burning, Steven Yeun has solidified himself as an actor to watch. Regardless of what he does next — whether it’s in America or Korea — the world should be scrambling to see him.
Iana Murray (@suspiriana) is a writer and film critic based in Scotland. She is an editor at Much Ado About Cinema and her work has appeared in The Skinny, Culture Whisper, Girls on Tops and A24’s Notes.
Categories: 2019 Film Essays, 2019 Interviews, Featured, Film Essays, Interviews

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