Film rated PG-13 by the MPA.

There’s barely a second of silence before the music starts, sweeping you into the sounds of a soft piano and a dreamy hum. There’s an instantaneous uncertainty and curiosity in tone, as a family drives through a barren neighborhood and all its greenery. Minari follows a small, Korean-American family consisting of: husband and wife, Jacob and Monica, their two young children, David and Anne, and the children’s grandmother, Soonja. In pursuit of the “American Dream”, Jacob moves his family from California to Arkansas, where he intends to start a successful farm growing Korean fruits and vegetables to sell.

This movie captures such a vulnerable representation of a family through generations. Each character brings their own unique life perspective to the story, making for a deeply genuine story. David has a heart condition that keeps his parents antsy about his health, often reminding him of things like not to run. Soonja has travelled from South Korea, in order to watch the children while Jacob and Monica are away at work. Anne tries to keep her family together amidst all their regular disagreements, maintaining that peacekeeper, older sister attitude. Jacob and Monica consistently butt heads, as they struggle to meet each other halfway and effectively support one another.

The relationship between David and Soonja, grandson and grandma, is portrayed with such genuine heart and warmth. Both Alan Kim (Theater Camp) and Youn Yuh-jung (Beef), deserve all the acclaim for their performances in the film. Kim exhibits both the wonder and confusion of a child, as well as the unexpected deep understanding of the darker moments in his life. Youn Yuh-jung captures the desire to fit in, even as you get older and things change around you, as well as the insistence to teach the wisdom you’ve gained so as to prevent future hurt.

One particular scene stands out to me, where David speaks bluntly to Soonja, saying “I already asked to see it. But now, I don’t want to go.” This is in reference to an early part of the film when Monica encourages him to pray to see heaven, in light of his uncertain health. Kim’s delivery of this line carries such inexplicable weight, as a child’s desperation to live finally breaks through, and his fear of death surfaces. At this, Soonja pulls David into her arms, and tells him she will not let him die. And if you thought that was a tear jerker, just wait until the end of the movie. I still cry. Every. Single. Time.

Through a series of small moments that eventually lead to the final climactic scene, Minari takes its time in developing the characters, so that by the final fifteen minutes, you’re pleasantly surprised to find yourself at the edge of your seat. Emile Mosseri’s score has a certain slow-burn quality to it, where the music builds with the film. Furthermore, the set design lends itself to setting the tone as well. From the open farm field, to the family’s small mobile home, these locations are given a voice of their own, allowing the characters to bounce off the personality of the space they exist in.

I would encourage people to watch this film on the basis of its ability to reach everyone’s heart. At the root of this film is a story about family, overcoming adversity, and coming into your own. With beautifully instrumented music, stunning visuals of the outdoors, and gut-wrenchingly accurate, relatable characters, Minari is an instantly captivating film.

Published June 26th, 2026