How far would a husband and father run to escape the grief howling at his howls like a dog begging to be noticed and acknowledged? How much can his children go before the exhaustion of refusing to face this monster nipping at their heels drags them down?
For his debut dramatic feature Mongrels, Korean Canadian writer, director, and actor Jerome Yoo takes the Kim family; father Sonny (Kim Jae-hyun), his teenage son Hajoon (Nam Da-nu), and eight-year-old Hana (Jin Sein) from Seoul, South Korea to the open plains and dense forests of the Canadian prairies on an emotionally fraught journey where the grief from the loss of their mother and wife follows them like a spectre of the night.
In this new country, Sonny takes on the job of doing what he does best, hunt. In the town where he and his children are trying to settle down, a pack of wild dogs, mongrels, are seen as nuisances to the farmers and local townspeople, and seeking to curb the movements of these dogs, local businessman Scott Larson (Morgan Derera) hires Sonny to track and hunt the dogs down to be culled.
It’s in the forests observing the behaviour of the animals of both the four legged and bipedal variety that Sonny seems more confident. Here, is where the skills he honed in the mountains and forests of his homeland provide him the ability to show these white Canadian men with their strange glee at stalking defenseless formerly domesticated dogs, is how Sonny shows them he’s just as important and a contributing member of their society as they are.
As Sonny finds his footing on the moss and leaf covered forest floor, Hajoon tries to do the same amongst the teen community. His easy going nature and openness makes forming friendships, particularly with Scott’s son Nedd (Jedd Sharp) one less thing for him to worry about. And for Hana, Laura (Candyce Weir), Nedd’s mother, becomes a willing mother figure – at times uncomfortably so – she can go to when her and brother don’t have time for Hana.
Outside of their home all three members of the family do the best they can to portray a functioning family unit. They take part in outdoor family luncheons with the Larsons. Attend church services where everyone nods along in accordance with the preacher’s words, and enjoy the angst and excitement that comes when approaching the cusp of young adulthood.
But if you look at the nuances of the portrayal of the lead cast, we see how Yoo’s structure of the story and direction of the actors reveals that this family is more broken than anyone on the outside can see. Holding their own equally in their scenes together Kim and Nam give their characters depths and layers to them that are as distinct as the film’s visual and auditory identities crafted by cinematographer Jaryl Lim, and composers Hao-Ting ‘Jude’ Shih and Yu Tae-young.
Within this new and unfamiliar home Kim’s Sonny is domineering, consumed with wild swings of emotions from anger, dismissal, and despondency as he sits alone at night talking on the phone to a wife who’s no longer there, telling her stories of loving moments and their adjustment to a new home.
Sonny’s aggression seems to be directed solely at Hajoon who’s reaching an age where asserting his independence away from his father, and daring to question why Sonny does what he does and how his behaviour may have resulted in his parent’s relationship changing before his mother’s death. relationship changed before her death. It’s in these moments that Yoo’s direction changes the tone and context of the film. Even it’s very meaning. For who is the real mongrel? The wild dogs roaming the forests at night, or Sonny, a man whose words of “Strong mind. Strong heart. Strong fists.” seem more like a threat and contradictory than encouragement to do right.
While her brother and father are caught up in their tumultuous emotional whirlwind of male hormones and struggle for dominance, Hana seeks refuge by catching planes from the sky to make wishes upon. With her childlike naivete and strong imagination, she believes that if she manages to get one hundred planes her most heartfelt desire would become reality as told to her by her mother. Interspersed the idyllic scenes of Hana and Hajoon playing in creek beds, and being warmed by the sun in golden grass fields are glimpses of a very lonely little girl. Despite Mongrels being her first ever acting performance, Jin is completely believable and endearing as Hana. Her ability to translate Hana’s longling to be noticed and have her family whole once again is very impressive for these are emotions that aren’t the easiest to portray, especially in a film with as heavy tones and scenes as Mongrels does.
Set in 1991 at a defining period in South Korean history when the country is finding its footing on the world stage having become a new democracy just four years prior, and undergoing rapid industrial redevelopment and technological advancement, Yoo makes the interesting narrative choice to make an immigrant story not about economic hardship or political unrest, but one about what it means to run from the place where the person central to your family unity has died, and being in that place becomes too much too bear.
But Mongrels isn’t just about the loss of a human loved one. It’s about the loss of an idea, the concept of what constitutes a whole family unit in a society where being a father, mother, son, and daughter is seen as the ideal. It’s about what can be done when you’re not prepared nor equipped to handle the unit breaking down and falling apart. It’s about the loss of your motherland and asks how do you process the grief of losing what’s such an intrinsic part of your identity?
Throughout the film, the sound of growling dogs gnashing their teeth can be heard. Their low rumbles are resonant and haunting and only heard by Sonny. These howls and whimpers aren’t the animals Sonny hunts, but the memories and reality he’s too afraid to face. But once he does, he can calm them, because it’s only through embracing grief that we can begin the healing process. It never goes away. But it can be tamed.
In my interview with Yoo and producer Nach Dudsdeemaytha for Mongrel’s screening at the 2025 Jeonju International Film Festival in South Korea, we discussed Yoo’s methods of characterising grief in the Kim family, and Dudsdeemathya’s learning curve producing a feature length film in the Canadian film industry.
Mongrels was produced by Musubi Arts, and had its North American premiere at the 2024 Vancouver International Film Festival, where Yoo won the award for best Emerging Canadian Director. The film also won the FIPRESCI prize at the 2024 Tallinn Black Nights Film Festival.
Carolyn Hinds
Freelance Film Critic, Journalist, Podcaster & YouTuber
African American Film Critics Association Member, Tomatometer-Approved Critic
Host & Producer Carolyn Talks…, and So Here’s What Happened! Podcast
Bylines at Authory.com/CarolynHinds
Twitter & Instagram: @CarrieCnh12
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