By this point in this career, Hirokazu Kore-eda has done more than enough to prove himself as one of our greatest living filmmakers. In recent years, he has expanded on his own repertoire by stepping outside of his native Japan and looking at other countries, with his first film made in another language being the incredible The Truth, which gave the legendary Catherine Deneuve and Juliette Binoche some of their greatest modern performances – and it was obvious that if he could direct a film not only in another country but in another language entirely, he would be capable of anything. This same principle was employed in the construction of Broker (Korean: 브로커), in which Kore-eda voyages to South Korea to tell another moving story that adds another panel to his steadily growing tapestry of deeply human narratives. Based around the director’s fascination with “baby boxes” (strategically-placed locations where mothers can anonymously and privately leave their unwanted infants without the fear of being shamed for supposedly abandoning their children), a concept that was not nearly as common in his native Japan as it was in other countries, it seemed only logical that this would be his next excursion into the wider world. A compelling and strikingly beautiful story that draws upon many familiar themes that we’ve seen from the director in the past, Broker is a valiant effort from a director who has continuously been at the forefront of his craft, and even when doing something that bears much resemblance to the majority of the other films he has made throughout his career, the film is still a very strong work that offers us exactly what it promises and not much else – and whether this signifies a director who is playing too safe, or one who simply has found his artistic niche, it is all a matter of individual interpretation.

One of Kore-eda’s most significant traits as a filmmaker is his ability to have a distinct style, not necessarily in terms of visual or artistic approach (although all of his films are stunningly gorgeous and well constructed), but in the kinds of stories being told. He did have his deviations earlier in his career where he pursued slightly larger productions, but these were ultimately overshadowed by the films that formed his reputation, those simple but evocative works that centre squarely on the human condition in its purest form. This has only become more evident as time has gone on and he has been able to take on more intimate subjects, being allowed to abandon the high-concept storytelling and instead focus on the aspects that truly mean the most to him. He has many different interests in terms of subject matter (and his technique is to build entire films around a singular concept), but the one theme that flows through nearly every one of his films is that of the family – and as he has said himself in the past, his fascination is not only with biological families but also stories of outsiders brought together by circumstance, forming unconventional clans that share similar purposes, goals or simply find themselves occupying the same space for a specific amount of time, whether physical or mental. Broker follows this trend, almost to the point where it can feel like Kore-eda is very self-reflective on his artistic curiosities, a riff on his style that is not always particularly endearing, especially at its weaker moments. There are many moments of striking beauty, but the main reason that a film like this was bound to succeed was the deeply human compassion that pulsates beneath the surface and creates such a rich, vibrant set of ideas, from which the director builds the entire film, which questions many themes such as those of parenthood, identity and finding one’s place in a hostile world.

The issue with Broker is that this ultimately feels far too safe of a film. Kore-eda is not someone who intends to provoke a reaction or stir any kind of controversy (even when he does tackle extremely tricky subjects, which he always does with poise), and he seems to be someone driven by the urge to create gentle, warm films rather than those which will be remembered for challenging conventions in a very overt way. However, it often comes across like Broker was formed from a brief two-sentence synopsis, which was then fleshed out into a film that runs over two hours, despite there not being nearly enough to maintain our attention for that long. The central narrative – a mother who gave up her child has second thoughts and decides to accompany the two men who stole her baby from the box as they travel across the country to find potential parents – is interesting, but this aspect of the plot starts far too soon, meaning that there is far more time dedicated to a simple but otherwise limited premise, which could have been used diving into other themes. The film does attempt to look at other ideas since it would be impossible to maintain our attention for the entirety of the film if only this specific narrative was in focus. However, it inexplicably doesn’t manage to strike a chord with any of the other narratives – the strong performances from the actors humanize these characters, but they don’t go anywhere, and it becomes far too didactic, with the majority of the film being spent watching characters converse, their discussions ranging somewhere between profoundly beautiful to deeply mundane, with very little middle-ground between them. Broker is the rare Kore-eda film where we can see the seams in between moments – it feels intentionally constructed, and lacks a lot of the detailed introspection (but does at least retain the empathy) that we have come to expect from him as a director.

However, one of the undeniable benefits of being a director of considerable stature who has only seen his reputation grow is that he can cast a wider range of actors in his projects, and where can be seen as someone who actors actively seek out. Once you are a case in a Kore-eda film, it is almost a given that you will be turning in one of your strongest performances – he crafts every role to the actor (rather than seeking out individuals to play pre-written roles, even if he does approach them with an existing script, which is soon edited to reflect the actors placed in these parts), and as a result, everyone in his films delivers spellbinding, meaningful performances. Working in South Korea for the first time gave the director access to some of the strongest actors working in the industry at the time, with Song Kang-ho and Bae Doona being arguably the most acclaimed actors in contemporary Korean cinema, and their presence in Broker gives the film an additional level of gravitas, and when combined with the promise of impeccable quality that is associated with Kore-eda, makes for a film that would struggle to fail. There are several small issues with this film, but none of them are due to the actors – they all deliver spirited performances, and while Song and Bae are undeniably the standouts (as they were always intended to be, by the roles they play and their function in the narrative), Gang Dong-won and Lee Ji-eun, otherwise known by the stage name IU, deliver strong performances that aid in the process of shading in the ambiguities that rest at the hearts of these characters, making Broker a wonderful character study, and one that could have only been substantially improved by a more concise screenplay that gave these characters more nuance.

Broker is a solid film, and almost exactly what we would expect from a director like Kore-eda. Unfortunately, this is one of the reasons it struggles to make much of an impression since despite many of his films playing similar notes, he always utilized the element of surprise when it was needed the most, which is absent here. We may not be able to predict exactly where the film is heading, but it is possible to have a general idea, which is not something that a director who thrives on the atmosphere more than the narrative should ever aspire to convey. There’s a depth to Broker that I wish had been more explored – there is too much attention given to Lee’s character, and while it is understandable why she would be at the forefront of the story, it does prevent us from spending more time with Song and Bae, who not only have the better characters, but the more interesting journey. They are frequently pushed to the side as the film pursues other avenues, and it becomes slightly too laborious to make much of an impact. Broker feels far slighter than anything else Kore-eda has made, and while it would be nearly impossible for every one of his films to have the incredible emotional impact as Still Life or Nobody Knows (or any of his masterpieces – some have even drawn correlations between this film and Shoplifters), so it makes sense that some of them would be slightly less effective than others. Kore-eda is rarely someone known to rest on his laurels, and he is already working on his next project, so ultimately there isn’t any reason to lament the fact that Broker was something of a disappointment since there is always the possibility that he revisits some of these ideas (although not directly) in future productions, which all ultimately coalesce into his strikingly beautiful and deeply meaningful depictions of the human condition, each film yet another entry into this wonderful and profound tapestry that he has been so dedicated to weaving together throughout his career.