If the global rise of Korean cinema in the past two decades was defined by the consolidation of auteurs such as Bong Joon-ho, Park Chan-wook, and Kim Jee-woon, the coming years seem poised to highlight a new generation of filmmakers. Emerging between 2022 and 2025, a number of directors have already showcased distinct voices, suggesting that the industry is once more entering a particularly fertile creative phase. Rather than forming a unified movement, these filmmakers operate across different modes, from intimate drama and genre hybridity to experimental storytelling and social realism.

Among them, Kim Tae-hoon, Jeong Ji-yeon, Park Sye-young, and Park Ri-woong stand out as particularly promising figures whose work is likely to shape Korean cinema between 2026 and 2028.

Big Sleep (2023)

Kim Tae-hoon's Big Sleep (2023) is a quiet but emotionally perceptive debut that focuses on human connection outside conventional frameworks. Bonds and relationships are not always formed the regular way, and Kim Tae-hoon seems to focus on this second case, in his debut feature film. The story follows Ki-young, a middle-aged man who hides his kindness behind a distant demeanor, and Gil-ho, a teenage runaway escaping abuse. What begins as reluctant proximity gradually evolves into a bond that sits somewhere between father and son or older and younger brother, although not exactly any of the two.

Kim Tae-hoon bases his film in the rather interesting relationship between the two men and the way it changes them, in a coming-of-age element that actually applies to both. The most appealing aspect in that regard is the fact that what joins the two is the need of Gil-ho to be taken care of by someone, and Ki-young to finally take care of someone, and also the way they pretend not to be in need of each other. This denial gives the narrative both warmth and subtle humor, even as the overall tone remains grounded in realism.

That realism extends to the film's refusal to offer easy solutions. The baggage both characters carry proves difficult to overcome, with external pressures such as crime and police involvement complicating their fragile connection. The performances elevate the material significantly. Kim Young-sung (as Ki-young) gives an astonishingly measured performance, revealing the cracks beneath a stoic exterior, while Choi Joon-woo (as Gil-ho) presents a character that is mature for his age but still unmistakably adolescent. Despite some minor narrative issues, Big Sleep emerges as a quite good movie, benefiting the most by the main story and the acting of the two protagonists. It is a modest but assured debut that marks Kim Tae-hoon as a filmmaker with a strong grasp of character-driven storytelling.

The Anchor (2022)

Where Kim Tae-hoon opts for restraint, Jeong Ji-yeon demonstrates immediate confidence through genre filmmaking. With The Anchor (2022), she delivers a work that blends psychological thriller, mystery, and horror elements with notable ease. Though it is primarily a psychological thriller, the narrative has elements of mystery and horror as well. This hybrid approach is handled with a precision that rarely feels excessive or forced.

The story centers on Se-ra, a television news anchor who receives a disturbing call from a woman claiming she is about to be murdered. Initially dismissed as a prank, the call soon proves tragically real, drawing Se-ra into a case that becomes increasingly personal and psychologically destabilizing. The mystery, which takes up the majority of the first half, is neatly packed and interwoven with the necessary elements to make for an engaging viewing. Even if the central twist may appear predictable, the film's strength lies in its execution. It is the build-up leading up to and the aftereffects of the reveal that form the crux of psychological thriller that Jeong set out to make.

The fact that despite the predictability of the twist, The Anchor still manages to fully engross the viewer until and well after the reveal is a major credit to Jeong as a director, as is her effortless mixing up of the genres which never really makes any events stand out like a sore thumb. This sense of control is further enhanced by strong performances. Chun Woo-hee (as Se-ra) navigates multiple emotional states convincingly, while Lee Hye-young (as So-jung) delivers a chilling portrayal of a manipulative mother. Shin Ha-kyun (as In-ho) adds ambiguity and tension throughout. Ultimately, the success of The Anchor must be credited to first-time director Jeong Ji-yeon and her absolutely confident and sure-handed direction that practically makes no missteps, establishing her as a key name within contemporary Korean genre cinema.

If Jeong represents refinement within established frameworks, Park Sye-young stands at the opposite end of the spectrum, embracing experimentation and unconventional storytelling. His work is closely tied to what has been described as the Korean Weird Wave, a trend that combines genre elements with arthouse sensibilities.

The Fifth Thoracic Vertebra (2022)

To realize the weirdness of The Fifth Thoracic Vertebra (2022), it would be enough to mention that it actually revolves around a fungus. However, the premise serves as more than a mere curiosity. As such, the narrative unfolds in two axes, with the evolution of the creature being the first, but essentially functioning as an excuse for Park Sye-young to present his many and rather interesting social comments. Through episodic encounters involving various individuals and couples, the film explores themes such as loneliness, relationships, and mortality, all linked through the unsettling presence of the organism.

Also of note is the visual approach Park has implemented, with each segment essentially switching setting, coloring, and lighting, while the camera changes distances and speeds according to the circumstance. This constantly shifting aesthetic reinforces the film's experimental nature, while its relatively short runtime prevents the concept from overstaying its welcome. The Fifth Thoracic Vertebra is a film as weird as it is unique, and definitely a part of the Korean Weird Wave that keeps surprising in the most delightful ways.

Park's follow-up, The Fin (2025), moves into dystopian science fiction, presenting a post-apocalyptic unified Korea where mutated humans, known as Omegas, are marginalized and persecuted. In his debut feature, 28-year-old director Park Sye-young employs slow-burning, moody science fiction to deliver a parable about fear of the Other in a paranoid society that has closed in on itself. While the narrative itself does not always transcend familiar genre conventions, the visual aspect remains striking. The cinematography offers images bathed in preternatural light and otherworldly colours, creating moments of eerie atmosphere and almost hypnotic quality. Even when the storytelling falters, Park's visual ambition suggests a filmmaker whose future work could become increasingly compelling.

The Girl on a Bulldozer (2022)

Finally, Park Ri-woong appears to be the most rounded among this group, already demonstrating significant growth between his debut and his follow-up. The Girl on a Bulldozer (2022) may have been marketed as a revenge story, but it works first and foremost as an excellent character study. Its protagonist, Goo Hae-young, is defined by anger, resilience, and vulnerability, navigating a harsh environment shaped by family issues and institutional indifference. There is a lot of angst with her, towards authority, family, society and life in general, and as the narrative progresses, that anger gradually reveals deeper layers of pain.

Kim Hye-yoon (as Goo Hae-young) anchors the film with a performance that balances toughness and fragility, making the character both compelling and believable. The work already indicated a director capable of handling strong character-driven narratives, but it is with The Land of the Morning Calm (2024) that Park Ri-woong truly expands his scope.

The Girl on a Bulldozer was a promising debut, but the improvement Park Ri-woong demonstrates in his second film is truly impressive. The story, centered on a fisherman who fakes his death for insurance money, unfolds into a complex examination of grief, exploitation, and small-town dynamics. Though the story has a strong melodramatic core, highlighting the struggles of older generations suffering due to the actions of the young and a system working against them, Park Ri-woong skillfully avoids excessive sentimentalism.

The Land of the Morning Calm (2024)

The inclusion of humor and carefully placed moments of violence helps maintain balance, while the film's themes, including insurance fraud, racism, and economic hardship, are organically implemented in the narrative. Performances from veteran actors such as Yoon Joo-sang (as Yeong-guk) and Yang Hee-kyung (as Pan-rye) further strengthen the work. Ultimately, The Land of the Morning Calm is an excellent film, competent in all aspects, both contextual and technical, by a director who seems ready to shoot a masterpiece next.

Taken together, these four filmmakers highlight the diversity of cont The Next Wave of Korean Cinema: Directors to Watch in 2026–2028zemporary Korean cinema. Kim Tae-hoon focuses on intimate human connections, Jeong Ji-yeon refines genre storytelling, Park Sye-young pushes boundaries through experimentation, and Park Ri-woong develops socially grounded narratives with increasing sophistication.

Rather than signaling a single direction, they represent multiple paths forward. If the previous generation brought Korean cinema to global prominence, this new wave suggests that its evolution is far from over.

Written by Panos Kotzathanasis
Edited by kofic