On the evening of September 17, 2025, the Busan Cinema Center in Haeundae District buzzed with anticipation as director Park Chan-wook’s latest film, known internationally as "No Other Choice" and domestically as "I Can't Help It," opened the 30th Busan International Film Festival (BIFF). The film’s selection as the festival’s opener wasn’t just a nod to Park’s cinematic prowess—it was a beacon of hope for a Korean film industry struggling to find its footing in the wake of the pandemic.
At a press conference held just hours before the festival’s curtain rose, Park Chan-wook addressed a packed room of journalists and fans. "As many of you know, I’ve been preparing for this film for a long time, and it’s really moving to finally present it here in Korea for the first time," Park said, his voice tinged with both excitement and nerves. "It’s my first time coming here to open the festival, so I’m especially excited. And with this year marking its 30th anniversary, it feels even more meaningful."
Park’s words resonated with the crowd, especially as he acknowledged the weight of expectation. Following its world premiere abroad, "No Other Choice" had already made waves on the international film circuit. The film competed at the Venice International Film Festival, earning near-perfect reviews, and clinched the International People's Choice Award at the Toronto International Film Festival. Lee Byung-hun, who plays the film’s protagonist Man-su, was honored with the Special Achievement Award in Toronto, further raising the film’s profile.
The story, adapted from Donald E. Westlake’s 1997 novel "The Ax," unfolds as a black comedy thriller. Man-su, a middle-aged man portrayed by Lee Byung-hun, is abruptly laid off from his job. What begins as a desperate quest to preserve his family’s affluence spirals into a tense, darkly comedic exploration of morality and survival. The film’s cast reads like a who’s-who of Korean cinema: Son Ye-jin, Lee Sung-min, Park Hee-soon, Yeom Hye-ran, and Cha Seung-won all bring their talents to the screen, though not all are given equal room to shine.
During the press conference, Park explained his attraction to the source material. "I saw the possibility of making a film where a personal story and a social story are completely intertwined, allowing it to look both inward and outward," he said. He was drawn to the idea of a protagonist whose pure motivations—wanting to protect his family and continue working—slowly give way to moral corruption. "Adding to that, what begins from a pure motivation... gradually leading to moral corruption, was something I wanted to delve into further."
Park also described his decision to modernize the story, weaving in themes of artificial intelligence and shifting the setting to Korea. "As the setting was changed to Korea, I tried to add elements like the obsession of having a house and how the lingering influence of patriarchy brings out Man-su’s limitations and follies," he explained. These changes, he hoped, would make the film resonate more deeply with Korean audiences. "That’s why I believe Korean audiences, more than anyone else, will be able to understand, empathize with, and even shake their heads at his story."
The film’s reception, however, has been a tale of two audiences. According to a review published on September 17, 2025, the film received favorable reviews from foreign media and international audiences, who praised Park’s signature humor and metaphorical storytelling. Yet, the domestic response has been more reserved. The review described the film’s narrative structure as "rough," with metaphors and devices that felt "flat." While Lee Byung-hun’s performance was lauded—"Lee Byung-hun as expected"—the reviewer lamented that his ability to convey both desperation and comedy didn’t break new ground compared to his previous roles.
Perhaps most notably, the supporting cast’s talents were seen as underutilized. "Actors such as Cha Seung-won, Park Hee-soon, Yeom Hye-ran, and Lee Sung-min are consumed as if passing by," the review noted. Even Son Ye-jin, despite her role as Miri, Man-su’s wife, was said to have a weaker presence than female characters in Park’s earlier films. The reviewer summed up the sentiment with a tinge of regret: "It is a solid balance between satire and tragedy... but the aura is weaker than any other female character seen in Park Chan-wook’s film."
Despite these criticisms, the technical mastery of Park’s filmmaking remains undisputed. The reviewer highlighted his "excellent mise-en-scène, which fills the screen with humor and tragedy." Lee Byung-hun himself encouraged audiences to experience the film in theaters, emphasizing the director’s meticulous attention to visual detail. "As an actor who worked on this project for a long time, I thought I knew everything about it, but watching the film a second and third time felt completely different," Lee said. "There are so many details in the director’s mise-en-scène that even I hadn’t noticed at first... I truly believe that it’s worth seeing on a big screen in a theater to see those details." Son Ye-jin echoed this recommendation, suggesting viewers watch the film at least twice to fully appreciate its layers.
Beyond its artistic ambitions, "No Other Choice" carries a weightier hope: the revitalization of Korea’s film industry. Park Chan-wook did not shy away from acknowledging the challenges. "It’s true that the film industry is going through a tough time right now, and in particular, Korea seems to be recovering more slowly than other countries since the pandemic, which I feel after talking to people outside of Korea," he said. "But I don’t think we’ll stay in this situation forever. I just hope our film can play even a small part in helping the industry climb out of this slump."
The film, which explores themes ranging from the irrationality of capitalism and the fall of the family patriarch to the wounds of family and the dying industry, is set for release in Korean theaters on September 24, 2025. Whether it will spark the revival Park hopes for remains to be seen, but its debut at BIFF has certainly reignited conversation about the power and direction of Korean cinema.
As the festival continues and audiences fill theaters, the legacy of "No Other Choice"—and its impact on the industry—will unfold in real time. For now, the film stands as a testament to both the enduring creativity and the current challenges of Korean filmmaking, inviting viewers to reflect, debate, and, perhaps, hope for a brighter cinematic future.
