Article by Alessandra Sottini

Translation by Giuditta Portaro

Adults are precious figures: they accompany the path of growth and maturity, sometimes delimiting the space and microcosm of young people with necessary rules and impositions. However, in My Best, Your Least, parents and teachers appear too cold and deaf to those they consider “miniature adults.”

The dynamics and themes dealt with in Kim Hyun-jung’s debut feature, presented in the competition of the 42nd Turin Film Festival, have a certain relevance and prove to be more topical than ever, especially in the context of a social reality, that of South Korea, which fuels dichotomies of all kinds. However, after the violent storm from which the narrative moves, the confident and hopeful conclusion will be all too easy, even if fulfilling.

The film stages what it promises, showing both the best and the worst sides of a young female high school teacher, Park Hee-yeon (Jang Yoon-joo). When she learns that a pupil in her class, 17-year-old Kim Yu-mi (Choi Soo-in), is pregnant, she has to confront her own insecurities and finds herself questioning the already shaky convictions imposed by the system. Not only the scholastic one, but above all social and cultural ones.

The theme of motherhood emerges forcefully as the thread that ties together the narrative journeys not only of the protagonists but also of all the other supporting characters (both female and male). The dramatic strength lies in highlighting the diverse personal experiences and ideological approaches to the issue, whose contradictions seem irreconcilable when resolved according to cold, mechanical rules. The stigma of “guilt” attributed solely to the one who bears its visible signs is undoubtedly the central point of reflection. However, the plot will implicitly suggest a solution: the stance taken by Yu-mi’s young high school classmates, who want to be heard, not judged.

Director and screenwriter Kim Hyun-jung works by subtraction. Focusing on the astonished and disenchanted gazes of the female protagonists allows the director to draw up an open critique of the well-thought-of South Korean society. My Best, Your Least thus presents itself as a bittersweet but frankly sincere insight into the difficulties women have in making decisions freely and without moral constraints.