The rise of Korean animation over the last two decades is a development that, while not particularly prolific in terms of numbers, is quite striking in terms of identity and thematic consistency. What I like the most about Korean animation, especially regarding the comparison with Japanese anime, is that the films are addressed to adults, for their most part, and not to children or teenagers, as is the case with the majority of anime. In that fashion, works such as The King of Pigs, The Fake, The Senior Class and Beauty Water include deep and harsh social comments, sex and adult themes in general, and a realism that is rarely seen in their Japanese counterparts.

The King of Pigs (2011)

The filmmaker who essentially set the foundations for this movement is Yeon Sang-ho. His debut, The King of Pigs (2011), remains one of the most representative examples of what Korean animation can achieve when it moves towards social critique. The story, which revolves around two former classmates whose lives are in shambles, unfolds through flashbacks in a school environment defined by violence and hierarchy. It is, essentially, a story of bullying, drama and constant violence, where students are categorized according to wealth, with the privileged acting as oppressors and the rest enduring systematic abuse.

What makes the film stand out is the way violence is treated. Yeon Sang-ho fills the narrative with brutality, but violence is not here as a way to shock, but instead, as a natural aspect of life, and as a direct result of the social structures in place. The school becomes a microcosm of society, where class warfare, injustice, and indifference from authority figures create a cycle that seems impossible to break. The character of Kim Chul offers a form of resistance, but even that is rooted in further violence, reinforcing the film's bleak worldview.

The Fake (2013)

Yeon continued in a similar path with The Fake (2013), although here the focus shifts from school to religion and rural society. Once more, there are no heroes. Within both The King of Pigs and The Fake you'll find worlds that resemble the life-sustaining mush under a moist log, dank ecosystems alive with poisons and pessimism. The story revolves around a village about to be flooded, where a group of charlatans exploit the faith of the locals, promising salvation while taking their money.

At the center is Min-chul, a violent and deeply flawed man who nonetheless attempts to expose the fraud. However, this is not a story of redemption. Talk of hope is heretical in such a place, and Yeon is quite happy to push his characters towards destruction. The overall atmosphere is one of decay, both moral and social, with the animation style, described as a bleak abyss of putrid pastels, reinforcing this sense of inevitability. In many ways, The Fake is even harsher than The King of Pigs, as it expands its critique to include organized religion and blind faith.

A different, but equally grounded approach appears in Hong Deok-pyo's The Senior Class (2016), which focuses on youth, ambition, and relationships within an art school. The story revolves around three students in their graduating year, with Joo-hee standing out as both the most admired and the most complex figure. She is beautiful, talented, and desired, but also deeply entangled in a system where success often comes at a cost.

Hong directs a very realistic movie that pulls no punches in its depiction of the realities of the art world and the school environment. Everyone wants to succeed, and are willing to do anything to accomplish that, a notion that is reflected in both students and teachers. In this context, Jeong-woo, a romantic and somewhat naïve character, feels completely out of place, with his eventual descent into frustration and anger being one of the film's strongest elements.

The movie also examines how quickly perceptions change in such environments. One is an idol one day and the object of scorn the next, highlighting a setting dominated by competition and superficial judgment. Love is also a central theme, presented in different forms, from romantic obsession to artistic passion, with the narrative suggesting that it can be both inspiring and destructive. Despite a slightly sentimental ending, the overall sense of realism remains intact, supported by animation that favors expressive simplicity over stylistic excess.

Beauty Water (2020)

If The Senior Class explores ambition and relationships, Beauty Water (2020) turns its attention to appearance and the obsession with beauty in modern society. The film revolves around Ye-ji, an overweight make-up artist who is constantly bullied due to her looks. As the narrative makes clear, women now have to be beautiful, thin and with big breasts, and Ye-ji's life becomes a direct reflection of this expectation.

After discovering a product that allows her to reshape her body, she undergoes a transformation that initially seems to solve her problems. However, as expected, there is a price to pay. The film presents one of the most realistic depictions of how the concept of beauty dominates contemporary society, particularly in South Korea, where appearance plays a crucial role in both personal and professional life.

Cho Kyung-hun goes beyond a simple critique of beauty standards, also addressing how industries profit from insecurity and how show business functions as a dog-eat-dog setting filled with exploitation. What makes the film particularly interesting is the way these themes are presented. Instead of a straightforward drama, the narrative unfolds as a horror/thriller, with elements of body horror emphasizing the psychological and physical consequences of transformation.

The obsession with beauty coincides with an obsession with the body, leading to a situation where the individual becomes alienated from their own self. The body becomes something to be constantly altered and maintained, creating a never-ending cycle of dissatisfaction. Even though the CGI animation is somewhat mediocre, the overall impact of the film remains strong due to its thematic depth and execution.

Looking at these films together, a clear pattern emerges. Korean animation, although limited in quantity, consistently focuses on adult themes, social critique, and realism. There is little interest in escapism or fantasy for its own sake. Instead, these works aim to reflect society in a direct and often uncomfortable way, whether through the depiction of school violence, religious exploitation, personal ambition, or beauty standards.

At the same time, this movement aligns with the broader tendencies of Korean cinema, which has gained recognition for its ability to combine genre elements with strong social commentary. In animation, however, this approach feels even more striking, precisely because it challenges the common perception of the medium.

As I mentioned before, despite the lack of plethora of titles, Korean animation is on the rise. This rise is not about numbers, but about identity and consistency. Films like The King of Pigs, The Fake, The Senior Class, and Beauty Water prove that animation can be just as powerful, if not more so, when it comes to addressing serious issues.

In the end, the New Wave of Korean animation is defined by its willingness to confront rather than to comfort. It is a cinema of harsh realities, flawed characters, and uncomfortable truths, one that continues to expand the boundaries of what animation can achieve.

Written by Panos Kotzathanasis
Edited by kofic