Lede
A film that sells itself as “love” and then quietly hands you the bill for everything adults broke.
Hermit Off Script
The World of Love hit me harder than the other Korean films I have been watching, not because it is louder, but because it is more psychological and it leans into the Western part of my brain that wants explanations, labels, and vocabulary I do not yet have in Korean. It starts right at the school level with teenagers kissing, and I almost laughed because it felt like the film was roasting the entire “Korean cinema is shy” stereotype while I am sitting there trying to keep up. Then I clocked the festival angle and thought, ah, this is built to travel, to translate, to land with teenagers anywhere, not just inside one culture. That is not a complaint, it is a choice. It also made me want UK cinemas to bring in more Korean films, because when you get a run like this, cinema is actually fun again. But the UK theatre experience still feels like it is competing with a decent TV and an audio system, while refusing to upgrade the comfort and the vibe enough to justify leaving the sofa. Maybe the next leap happens, like IMAX did. Or maybe we just need cinemas to act like they want to live.
THE WORLD OF LOVE Trailer | TIFF 2025
The World of Love (2025): Movie synopsis roast

Jooin is 17, confused by love, and proves that adolescence is basically one long experiment in saying the wrong thing at the worst time. She snaps, spits out a few angry words, and the universe replies with the most Korean-horror-meets-school-admin weapon imaginable: anonymous notes. Not a punch, not a scandal headline, just paper. Death by stationery.
From there it pretends to be an ordinary slice of teenage life, then calmly pulls the floorboards up to show what has been hiding underneath. Jooin is all bounce and jokes, even about sex, which is exactly why it stings when the story starts asking harder questions. The film is less “who kissed who” and more “who gets to own the story after something shatters”. The notes are not really about her behaviour. They are a crowd auditioning to become the narrator of her life.
And yes, it is festival-ready in the way the blurb practically admits: “emotionally layered”, “quiet resilience”, “reclaim your future”. Translation: bring tissues, but also bring patience, because the film is going to hurt you politely. The Korean title pun is the sharpest little knife in the drawer: Jooin sounds like “owner”, so the question becomes whether she is the owner of her world, or just the tenant in everyone else’s judgement.
Family, classmates, even a child at a daycare reflect back different ways pain gets carried, misfiled, and handed around. It is not chaos for entertainment. It is chaos as a receipt.
Cast and credits
Director; Writer: Yoon Ga-eun
Main cast: Go Min-si, Jang Hye-jin, Kim Suk-hoon, Seo Su-bin, Kang Chae-yoon, Kim Ye-chang, Lee Jae-hee, Kim Jeong-sik
Production company/studio: Vol Media; Semosi
Distributor / sales: Barunson E&A
Runtime: 119 minutes
Release year and platform: 2025 – theatrical and festival circuit
What does not make sense
- The English title waves “love” like a romcom banner, while the story is framed around trauma, social judgement, and fallout.
- The protagonist is 17, the opening energy is teen romance, yet the film quickly demands adult-level attention and patience from the audience.
- It is festival-ready and internationally legible, but the UK still treats Korean cinema like a seasonal pumpkin spice latte.
- Cinemas complain about streaming, then keep selling discomfort as a premium feature.
Sense check / The numbers
- Runtime is 119 minutes, and BFI lists it as Korean with English subtitles. [BFI]
- The protagonist is explicitly 17 years old in festival material, and the plot catalyst is “careless words spoken in anger” followed by anonymous messages. [FILMeX]
- It premiered in the Platform section at Toronto on September 7, 2025. [Cinema Escapist]
- Korean theatrical release date is October 22, 2025. [KOFIC]
- BFI London Film Festival 2025 ran October 8 – 19, with tickets from GBP 10, and a GBP 6 tier for ages 16 – 25 via BFI 25 and Under (subject to availability). [BFI]
The sketch
Scene 1: “The Export Cut”
Panel: A classroom kiss. A festival programmer peers through binoculars labelled “International Audience”.
Dialogue:
Teen: “Is this too much?”
Programmer: “No, no. Make it universal.”
Scene 2: “Anonymous Notes”
Panel: The girl opens her locker. A blizzard of sticky notes falls out: “Explain yourself”, “Pick a story”, “Be normal”.
Dialogue:
Girl: “I was normal. You just renamed me.”
Sticky note (tiny): “Signed: Everyone.”
Scene 3: “UK Cinema Strategy Meeting”
Panel: A cinema manager sits on a throne made of old seats. A customer holds a ticket and a cushion.
Dialogue:
Customer: “Could we get more Korean films?”
Manager: “We invested in louder adverts.”

What to watch, not the show
- Festival incentives: stories get packaged for export, not just for home audiences.
- The “love” label: marketing softens challenging subjects to widen the funnel.
- Cinema economics: comfort costs money, and some chains would rather lose viewers than spend it.
- Streaming pressure: the sofa keeps winning because it keeps improving.
The Hermit take
It is a teen story with grown-up consequences, and it does not blink first.
If UK cinemas want loyalty, they need to earn the trip.
Keep or toss
Keep
Keep the honesty and the bite.
Toss the lazy expectation that “love” means soft.
Sources
- BFI London Film Festival listing: https://whatson.bfi.org.uk/lff/Online/article/world-of-love-lff25
- TOKYO FILMeX programme page: https://filmex.jp/en/program/fc/fc1.html
- KOFIC (Korean Film Council) film page: https://www.koreanfilm.or.kr/eng/films/index/filmsView.jsp?movieCd=20247429
- Indiespace release post: https://indiespace.kr/491174
- Cinema Escapist review (TIFF context and release date): https://www.cinemaescapist.com/2025/09/review-world-love-korean-movie/
- IMDb: https://www.imdb.com/title/tt37661885/


