I’m a Cyborg, But That’s OK

Directed by: Park Chan-wook 
Distributed by: CJ Entertainment

Written by Livvy O’Brien

90/100

Park Chan-wook’s “I’m a Cyborg, But That’s OK” is a film that defies easy categorisation. It’s a romantic comedy, a psychological drama, a surreal fantasy, and a visual feast—all rolled into one. While it may not be for everyone, it’s precisely this unpredictability and whimsical charm which makes it a standout film for me. Known for his darker, more violent works like “Oldboy” and “Sympathy for Lady Vengeance,” Chan-wook takes a sharp left turn here, delivering a film that is as quirky as it is heartfelt. 

We follow Young-goon (Lim Soo-jung), a young woman who believes she is a cyborg. After a self-inflicted injury, she is admitted to a mental institution. There, she meets Il-sun (Rain), a kleptomaniac who steals not only objects but also people’s emotions. The heart of the film lies in the unlikely connection between the two. Their relationship is tender, strange, and deeply human, even as they navigate their own fantastical delusions. What makes their bond so compelling is how Chan-wook frames their quirks not as flaws to be fixed, but as extensions of their individuality. For example, Young-goon’s cyborg delusion reflects her desire to disconnect from pain and trauma, while Il-sun’s habit of stealing emotions mirrors his struggle to connect with others. These delusions give us insight into who they are and what they’re feeling, even if they express it in unconventional ways. The film treats their fantasies with a mix of humor, empathy, and wonder, inviting us to see the world through their eyes rather than dismissing them as merely “ill.”

The cinematography in this film is nothing short of thrilling. Chan-wook and cinematographer Chung Chung-hoon create a visual style that’s both stark and whimsical, blending the mundane with the magical in a way that feels entirely unique. The mental institution, with its sterile, almost uncanny atmosphere, acts as a blank canvas for the film’s bursts of vibrant colour and surreal imagery. It’s a world where the clinical white walls of reality are constantly modified by the characters’ wild, Technicolor imaginations. I feel as though this contrast is essential to the film’s DNA. The stale environment of the institution reflects the characters’ isolation and the rigidity of their surroundings, while the sudden explosions of colour and fantasy pull us into their inner dreamlike worlds. It’s as if the film is constantly reminding us that even in the most confined spaces, the human mind can be a place of boundless creativity. Essentially, we should never lose our childlike wonder.

To fully appreciate “I’m a Cyborg, But That’s OK,” you need to go in blind—trust me when I say, you’ll never know what happens next. That said, this isn’t a film for everyone. It’s an acquired taste, one that demands a certain tolerance for the bizarre and a willingness to surrender to its peculiar logic. And that’s exactly what makes it so charming! The film doesn’t just embrace its oddness—it revels in it. For those who can tune into its unique wavelength, it’s a deeply rewarding experience.

“I’m a Cyborg, But That’s OK” Trailer

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