“Did You See It?” is a review column where we watch trending movies firsthand and share honest impressions and key highlights. <Editor’s Note>
[Edaily Starin Reporter Choi Hee-jae ] “Why am I crying so much? But would it be an overstatement to call this the Korean film of the year?” These were my thoughts as the end credits rolled for *A Trip to Gyeongju*.

The reactions after the movie ended were also interesting. Among the reporters whose eyes were already moist, there was a surprisingly high proportion of eldest daughters. One reporter, who takes care of the youngest child at home, said, “I empathized with the younger sister’s role and felt like, ‘Why is this happening only to me?’” but added, “I’m sure my older sister would have cried too.” In response, a reporter who is the eldest daughter retorted, “What do younger siblings know?”
“Gyeongju Trip” is a family revenge drama about four mothers and daughters who, after eight years of waiting, embark on a “killer” trip for their youngest daughter, “Gyeongju,” who never returned from her school field trip.

Gyeongju, the youngest daughter who never returned home. While the quest for revenge begins with that sense of loss, the film takes a different approach from the sensational and brutal personal revenge dramas of the past. It calmly observes the collapse of an ordinary family—one that can’t even bring itself to kill a single insect—thereby deepening the sorrow. The film’s signature black comedy and moments of quiet laughter, which burst forth intermittently within the heavy narrative, provide just the right respite from the somber tone.
“Journey to Gyeongju” begins with the question, “What is a family, anyway?” Yet it ultimately offers no clear answer. It simply follows the family as they share the pain the victim’s family must carry for the rest of their lives, blaming one another yet ultimately embracing each other. While this cast and subject matter could have been turned into a blockbuster, Director Kim Mi-jo chooses to portray this family in a different light.
The title also gives one pause. Just as the dictionary definition describes it as “a record of what one sees, hears, feels, and experiences during a journey,” this is the chronicle of four women—a mother and her three daughters—each harboring their own distinct sorrows and inner struggles. At the same time, the film presents the bizarre world surrounding them, the strange gazes directed at them, the peculiar verdicts, and all the “oddities” that inevitably arise.

The perfect ensemble of talented actors alone is reason enough to head to the theater.
Gong Hyo-jin is the very embodiment of the “K-eldest daughter.” As the eldest daughter herself, she doesn’t particularly like the stereotypical image attached to the term “K-eldest daughter,” but she can’t help but relate to it. Hoping her mother won’t get sick and wishing her younger siblings will grow up well, her own identity as “me” takes a back seat to her family. Even as she finally snaps at her mother after holding back for so long, the look of regret spreading across her face is enough to bring tears to the eyes of eldest daughters across the country.
Park So-dam’s resolute gaze and expression shine in *Gyeongju Journey*. As the second of four sisters and a law school graduate, she’s an elite—but deep down, she likely wanted to use her intelligence to gain attention and affection. Even while arguing with her younger sister, Young-ju is the kind of older sister who shields her younger sibling behind her when danger strikes.
The presence of Lee Yeon, who plays Dong-ju—the third sister you just want to give a gentle tap on the head—is simply outstanding. How must the third sister feel after losing her youngest sister, with whom she shares such a small age gap? Dong-ju may seem to act immaturely, but she has been living her life hiding a deep-seated emotional turmoil without even realizing it. It’s hard to believe that Lee Yeon is actually an only child in real life.
Any curiosity about why Byun Yo-han agreed to appear “without a guarantee” naturally vanishes as you watch the film. He delivers such an impressive performance that you can’t help but think, “Even if I were Byun Yo-han, this would be so much fun and thrilling.” Byun Yo-han’s words—“I took the role because I wanted to grow”—stick in your memory.
And at the very beginning and end of it all is Lee Jung-eun. Through her painstakingly delicate performance, the audience fully feels the emotional turmoil of Ok-sil—who is dead yet must go on living.
The yellow van in *Gyeongju Trip* and the four women in the family have one thing in common: it wouldn’t be surprising if either broke down at any moment. Though they can’t be fixed to look brand-new, and though they can’t turn back time, they race toward one another, patching things up with layers of blue tape. Especially if you’re the eldest daughter, you’d better be prepared to shed some tears. Directed by Kim Mi-jo. Runtime: 111 minutes. Opens August 26.