Minari is a film about the story of resilience and opportunity. It is about the United States as the land of opportunity and the American Dream, where everyone is free to earn a fortune no matter who they are. The film focuses on one Korean family, where the head of the family has bigger goals than just being a lifelong professional observer of the sex of chicks. He wants to have a farm so he can grow various Korean vegetables.
The head of the family buys a large plot of land in a suburb and moves there to live. While they live in a trailer instead of a regular house, their new life is far from easy. The family faces challenges, from growing and fertilizing plants to selling their produce. On top of that, their child has a weak heart, and the mother worries about his health, which makes her living in a city surrounded by people.
The setup of Minari is straightforward, almost like a semi-autobiographical of resilience and opportunity, as Lee Isaac Chung based on his childhood. He embodies David, the youngest child in the film. The film feels natural, with no over-the-top villains, supernatural elements, or blockbuster tropes. The thing to an antagonist is the situation—pursuing the American Dream is not accessible.
Many problems arise as the family works to make a living on the farm, but the honest solution lies within them. Watching the family realize things about learning from each other and compromising in challenging circumstances makes Minari both fun and heartwarming.
Jacob works on his farm during evenings and weekends, and Paul, a man he hires, is an evangelical Christian who often praises Jesus and speaks in tongues. In contrast, Jacob does not believe in these “imaginary” ideas and prefers logic and reasoning. Jacob’s reaction to the water fortune teller, who asks for a hefty price to search for the ideal spot for a well with a forked stick, is one of skepticism.
Jacob brushes off the hiker but later uses the opportunity to test David. The child recognizes that the lower ground near the trees might be a sign of water below. After the well dries up and the family learns that the previous owner committed suicide after his farm failed, Monica allows Paul to clean their house with holy water and prayer. This scene adds an element of faith and ritual that further develops the family’s journey.
Minari becomes even warmer as it explores the relationship between the youngest child, David, and his grandmother. The family called her to stay and look after the children while the parents worked. The bond between David and his grandmother is a crucial theme in the film, one that extends beyond the pursuit of the American Dream. The scenes of their interaction will tug at the heartstrings of the audience, stirring up deep emotions.
There are funny, sad, and happy moments that mix to create a warm feeling in the heart. The ending, too, speaks a lot about how Minari holds multiple meanings as a story about resilience and opportunity. When the youngest child, because of a heart condition, believes he cannot run, a wave of affection bursts in his chest, and he runs after him, showing how these moments carry the emotion and last.
The theme of poverty has been portrayed in films for a long time, from the classics to modern times. Films like The Grapes of Wrath, The Bicycle Thief, and Slumdog Millionaire have been highly praised by critics and festivals. There is nothing extraordinary about these stories other than their down-to-earth and personal nature. With a moderate pace, the plot of Minari progresses through the everyday life of the Jacob family.
The relationship between the grandmother and David contains intimate and touching moments. Despite the adversity they face, small moments provide warmth for the characters. For example, the boy casually urinates in his grandmother’s drink, and while his father punishes him, his grandmother still defends him. Minari is a natural film full of raw experience and feeling. Emotions and feelings cannot fully represent or describe the truth, but they create a deeper connection.
Minari is more than just a film—it is a rarely told story about resilience and opportunity, which is not often explored in other forms of media. It is a story about life without any hidden agenda or political content except for hope. Its unpredictability, with no expectations, adds to its charm. The plot subtly wraps up, and the script has well-built moments that highlight the central theme, showing how everything started from nothing.
Despite its powerful story, Minari retains its essence. It feels like navigating through life’s struggles, knowing the choices or paths ahead but not knowing what the future holds—just trying to keep moving forward. In short, Minari is a wonderfully authentic tale.
Minari does not overdo the drama or make any mistakes. It stays true to its storytelling, playing with emotions without overwhelming the audience. In a story about resilience and opportunity, even in the most emotional moments in the final act, Minari does not fall into being a simple tearjerker. The struggles and debates are honest, and the audience can understand both sides’ doubts.
One character wants his family to be happy, but for him, the struggle is deeply personal. Another character seeks proof of her abilities and feels torn, but not because of disbelief. She conforms to living in the city and values social relationships. The conflict becomes the climax of making the struggle to plant dreams even more real.
Minari is about life itself, not just about meeting basic needs like food, clothing, or shelter. It is like taking care of a plant—it is not just about watering it; there is the matter of the soil and everything else that goes into it. The land is like a home for life, a place where things can grow. The Korean family in the story is on American soil, and to survive, it is not enough to just be independent; there will always be the need for social assimilation, like fertilizer for the plants.
In the end, Minari shows that a struggle does not have to be faced alone. Like the Minari plant, it can grow by adapting to its surroundings. The Minari plant represents the story of not giving up on trying to connect with a foreign life. The pursuit of the American Dream does not erase a minority’s cultural identity. In fact, it strengthens it, as the Korean family does not forget who they are, with more and more Korean dialogue in the second half of the film.
Beyond the internal conflicts, Minari is not the typical story where assimilation clashes with racism or stereotypes. The American characters are friendly and open to accepting Jacob’s family, and both the church and the local community quickly welcome them.
The only resistance from Americans comes in the form of microaggressions or stereotypical questions that reflect an evolving culture. In one scene, the church congregation calls Monica “cute” and “sweet,” which, from a particular perspective, could be seen as physical ridicule of Asians. When Anne asks about Korean words, it is a simple exchange that reflects an American viewpoint on Asia.
In short, Lee Isaac Chung shows that not all Americans look down on immigrants. The Jacob family expects the conflict of assimilation. When those expectations are not met, they feel out of place or undeserving of being in America, which drives them to keep chasing the American Dream. Minari does not focus on origin but instead highlights moments where families and residents interact as individuals, like when the father and his colleagues are overly obedient or collected at church.
These moments are not there to lengthen the story; they serve as a vital part of the theme. As Koreans and Americans learn from each other, Minari does not just entertain—it shows how strange someone’s habits can seem to another. There may even be subtle oppression in the form of being “friends.” These beautiful social moments make Minari feel even more natural and extraordinary as they capture the everyday reality of life.
Steven Yeun and Yeri Han did a fantastic job capturing the emotional turmoil their characters experienced, bringing them to life with depth. Alan S. Kim and Noel Cho also played their roles with subtlety and passion, showing their characters as Korean children with American souls. However, Minari avoids the stereotypical trap of children not respecting their own culture.
The characters are layered and complex, managing to capture attention. Youn Yuh-jung brings a moral compass to her role, going beyond the typical grumpy grandmother. She is more of a free spirit, wishy-washy at times, mediating and helping develop the story’s ending and conclusion. Minari successfully avoids becoming a lecturer about the head of the family, who, despite being far from religious, believes more in his abilities.
Several scenes are set in religious environments, showing the family’s reactions. From the beginning to the end, the differences, escalations, and responses are all ways to show the head of the family learning without focusing on the characters of the speakers.
The contradiction between expectation and assimilation is central to the story, showing how moving from one’s homeland to a new place to chase various promises is something many people can relate to, like the Jacob family. Everyone has big dreams but often needs a realistic plan to make them happen, which causes tension. The issues in Minari become more complex when the audience does not need to pay more attention, and they may come across as melodramatic.
However, Minari avoids being clichéd. It is primarily a comedy-drama set in a family environment. It does not overdo the parenthood or toxic relationship themes, instead feeling more like films such as My Neighbor Totoro, The Farewell, The Father, and Nomadland. Chung’s sentimental touch lifts Minari to emotionally impactful heights, with Emile Mosseri’s excellent score enhancing the experience. While the film draws inspiration from Terrence Malick, it is beautiful, unique, and familiar, especially for a film distributed by A24.
One of Minari‘s strengths is how Chung captures memories in film, like the beautiful shots of the family walking behind Jacob on the tractor and the scene where Jacob punishes David. Based on Chung’s autobiographical story, Minari has a similar feel to classic childhood memory films like The 400 Blows. While the theme of assimilation is present, the film’s broad universality makes it easy to find connections across cultures, much like the works of other Asian directors known for their openness, tenderness, and trademarks.
Ultimately, Minari relies on natural imagery and a heartwarming atmosphere, contrasted with the haunting music that evokes deep feelings. It is a journey of experiencing life—raw yet honest, with excellent pacing. The theme of family struggles feels close to home, making us want to be friends with every character. Minari wraps everything in a warm feeling, leaving viewers with a sense of hope, assimilation, and the opportunity to relate.
References
- Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. (2021). Minari Nomination List.
- Chung, L. I. (Director). (2020). Minari [Film]. A24.
- Dargis, M. (2021, February 11). Minari Review: A Moving Portrait of Immigrant Life. The New York Times.
- Johnson, S. (2020, December 10). The American Dream in Minari: A Closer Look. The Hollywood Reporter.
- Subar, A. (2021). Minari and the Search for Belonging: How the Film Reflects the Immigrant Experience in America. Film Analysis Journal, 12(3), 45-59.
- Travers, P. (2020, December 11). Minari Review: A Tender, Emotional Portrait of a Family. Rolling Stone.
- Yeun, S., Han, Y., & Kim, A. S. (2020). Minari [Film]. A24.
