Name: My Name Is Loh Kiwan
Genre: Romance, Drama
Released: 2024-02-19T00:00:00+00:00
Cast: Song Joong-ki, Choi Sung-eun, Waël Sersoub, Cho Han-cheul, Kim Sung-ryung

The opening shot of My Name Is Loh Kiwan is a stark, frozen landscape: Loh Kiwan (Song Joong-ki), bundled in layers, trudges through the snow of Brussels, his breath visible in the cold air. It’s an arresting image, one that immediately grounds us in the harsh reality of this North Korean defector’s new life. Directed by Kim Hee-jin and adapted from Cho Hae-jin’s novel, the film follows Kiwan as he navigates homelessness, asylum struggles, and an unlikely bond with Marie (Choi Sung-eun), a disillusioned former athlete.

The film’s strength lies in its unflinching portrayal of displacement. Song Joong-ki delivers a restrained yet powerful performance, capturing Kiwan’s quiet resilience and the weight of his trauma. His scenes of silent desperation—whether scrounging for food or navigating bureaucratic nightmares—are grounded in authenticity, thanks in part to the research done by Liberty in North Korea. The film’s depiction of asylum processes, cultural barriers, and the precariousness of refugee life feels real, not sensationalized.

Choi Sung-eun also brings depth to Marie, her character’s athleticism turning into a metaphor for survival as she and Kiwan lean on each other. Their chemistry is palpable, especially in moments where their shared hardship sparks fragile hope. The supporting cast, including Waël Sersoub as the bar owner Cyril and Kim Sung-ryung as Kiwan’s mother (in flashbacks), adds layers to the emotional stakes.

But My Name Is Loh Kiwan stumbles when it veers into melodrama. The underground target-shooting subplot feels out of place, adding an unnecessary layer of contrivance to Kiwan’s already harrowing journey. Some villains—particularly those involved in the gambling and shooting scenes—are cartoonishly evil, undercutting the film’s otherwise grounded tone. Additionally, the pacing drags in the second act, as Kiwan’s struggles sometimes feel repetitive rather than deepening.

The cinematography, however, remains a highlight. The film’s visual language—cold blues contrasting with warm interiors, long takes of Kiwan wandering through foreign streets—reinforces its themes of isolation and belonging. The sound design is equally effective, using silence and ambient noise to immerse the audience in Kiwan’s disorienting new world.

Ultimately, My Name Is Loh Kiwan is a film with moments of genuine emotional power, but it’s let down by uneven pacing and tonal missteps. Song Joong-ki and Choi Sung-eun anchor it with compelling performances, and its commitment to realism keeps it from feeling like mere fiction.