Possible Love

POSSIBLE LOVE 🌊 가능한 사랑 (2026)

South Korea has a labour problem, and two of its biggest recent films are making sure we pay attention.

Lee Chang-dong’s POSSIBLE LOVE and Park Chan-wook’s NO OTHER CHOICE (2025) approach the subject from vastly different perspectives, yet both tap into an increasingly pressing conversation about the value of work, the people who dedicate their lives to it, and what happens when that livelihood is suddenly taken away.

It’s not exactly the sexiest subject matter to bring to the big screen, but after doing some digging, it’s also one that’s difficult to ignore. South Korea is experiencing a significant wave of labour-related legal battles, regulatory clashes, and prolonged strikes, so it’s hardly surprising that the subject has found its way into the creative consciousness of the country’s filmmakers.

No Other Choice approached the topic through dark comedy, following a man desperately trying to secure his next job by any means necessary. POSSIBLE LOVE, on the other hand, takes a considerably more sobering approach, following a laid-off worker struggling to reconcile the loss of a job to which he’d dedicated so much of his life. 

Of course, with a title like POSSIBLE LOVE, there’s considerably more at play than labour politics.

The story follows a director and her documentary crew as they capture a family navigating the fallout of unemployment and the devastating ripple effects it has on a marriage, relationships with former coworkers, and the fragile sense of self-worth that comes with having your livelihood taken away from you.

The film has been generating serious Film of the Year buzz, and after watching it, I’m left with what might be my toughest review of the year. Not because it’s a bad movie that I need to rip to shreds. Not because it’s a great movie that I’m struggling to find the words to praise. But because I’m genuinely struggling to figure out what kind of movie I’m even watching.

It may be classified as a film, but to me, it's a documentary disguised as a movie that's simultaneously cosplaying as a documentary. And somewhere in that identity crisis lies the reason assessing it feels almost impossible.

This is a watch you have to meet on its own terms. Don't come expecting a conventional narrative where characters are presented with a problem, embark on a journey, and eventually arrive at some neatly packaged resolution. Lee Chang-Dong has crafted a story that exists between the lines, where the smallest gestures, fleeting expressions, and unspoken exchanges often reveal more about a character's emotional state than any dialogue ever could.

At its core, this is about walking a mile in a man's shoes. And while that mile can feel particularly tedious over a strenuous three-hour runtime, it's also about finding the empathy, compassion, and patience to understand someone who, from the outside looking in, might seem like a closed-off, self-absorbed dickhead. Someone whose behaviour is difficult to sympathize with until you begin to understand the pain and circumstances that have brought them to that point.

What stands out is watching the man sulk his way into an unlikable, man-of-the-house type of hard-headed, outdated personality, which makes more sense as the movie goes along, but it’s the juxtaposition of that to his wife, who, in her own way, takes the spotlight away from what he’s going through and reminds you that there’s more than one person in a relationship.

She's been forced into watching helplessly from the sidelines, unable to pull the person they love out of their downward spiral, all while watching their own life and time slip away in the process. And by time, I mean the very things that make a relationship worth having in the first place. Love, companionship, intimacy, and the opportunity to actually live a life together.

He may be going through something, but so is she, and though it’s admirable how she's stuck by her partner's side through thick and thin, there's a subtle realization that she needs to regain a part of the life she lost being so selfless along the way.

From the outside looking in, I wish she would’ve just left him. Then she began to become a version that was understandably carving her own path away from him, and that teetered into the "the longevity of us means I should stay, but the man I fell in love with no longer exists" energy of resentment that starts to trickle through, so her eyes and heart start to wander.

What this family goes through is so specific that unless you've witnessed a marriage on the brink of collapse, a child watching the adults in their life become emotional wrecks, or the ugly realities of labour disputes and economic hardship, much of this might not resonate with you. In fact, it might just feel like the most useless therapy session ever. That's until a pivotal moment gives the entire story a weight it was desperately missing. 

But having worked through the pandemic, witnessed mass layoffs, grown up as a child of divorce, and known people who've experienced that kind of violence, I recognize what this film is trying to capture.

If you've experienced even a fraction of what these people are going through, you'll likely find yourself connecting with it on a much deeper level. Because beneath all the uncomfortable circumstances and seemingly mundane interactions, there's a very recognizable portrait of what it means to be human when life isn't going your way.

And perhaps that's why this film hit me the way it did.

While watching, I found myself reflecting on my own behaviour and how I've approached people in my life who've endured prolonged periods of hardship. Emotion and logic don't always go hand in hand. There have been times when friends of mine have been stuck in such prolonged states of distress that you eventually start questioning whether this is simply who they've become, or whether you even want to continue being part of that relationship.

But looking back, with a little more life experience and a film like this to put things into perspective, I can't help but wonder whether I was ever as sensitive to their circumstances as I should have been. It's easy to become frustrated with someone when their struggles seem to have no end in sight. It's considerably harder to recognize that what might feel like an eternity to you is simply another day of survival for them.

POSSIBLE LOVE plays out almost like a novel, with every scene serving a purpose in peeling back another layer of vulnerability.

It's about what happens when you feel so utterly stuck in life, yet remain close enough to the possibility of something better that you begin to romanticize everything around you because any inkling of the simplest joy would be better than existing under this dark cloud.

I feel like I'm rambling, but that's the kind of experience this is. It's everything that makes us weak, everything that makes us strong, everything that makes us flawed, and everything that makes us painfully, unmistakably human.

And I speak about the effects of the workforce in Korea, but we're facing our own challenges here in the West. Major budgetary restraints are putting pressure on workers across industries, and issues like union-busting are hardly confined to one part of the world.

The circumstances might differ, but the underlying anxieties are universal. The fear of losing your livelihood, the loss of identity that comes with it, and the helplessness of watching the life you've worked so hard to build slowly unravel.

This is not an easy watch. As I said earlier, you have to meet the movie where it's at. If you see the words POSSIBLE LOVE and assume you're getting a melodramatic Korean love story, you’ll be in for a rough three-hours lol.

POSSIBLE LOVE is a true piece of art. It's expressive, emotional, raw, and uncomfortably real.

It's a story about the people who get left behind, the relationships that deteriorate under the weight of circumstances beyond their control, and the quiet desperation of trying to find purpose when the world has seemingly decided you no longer have any.

Not everyone will connect with what Lee Chang-dong is putting on screen, but perhaps that's beside the point. It's not a film interested in offering easy answers or tying everything together with a pretty little bow. It's a reflection of the people who get chewed up by the system, discarded by corporations, and left to pick up the pieces while the world carries on around them.

We spend so much time talking about economic growth, corporate profits, and the health of the workforce that we sometimes forget there's an actual human cost attached to all of it. Because losing your job is one thing. Losing the sense of who you are, the life you've built, and the people you love along the way is something else entirely.

POSSIBLE LOVE is a case study of what it means to take love for granted. Whether thats the love of life or the person beside you, sometimes you have to take the road less travelled, step outside your comfort zone, and be willing to embrace the possibility of a new beginning. 

Enjoy!

7.4/10 🍿 🎥

Runtime: 2hrs44mins

Where: Now Streaming on Netflix

The Richmond Reviewer Possible Love Review - November 12th, 2026.