Losing your job is often cited as one of the most stressful life events someone can experience, up there with the death of a loved one, moving, and pregnancy. So, when Man-su (Lee Byung-hun), a paper factory worker, loses his job after 25 years and resorts to murder, you can’t quite blame him, especially when, in response to this crisis, his wife gets a part-time job as a hygienist for a H๏τ dentist and suggest they sell their house and get rid of their two dogs.

Park Chan-wook’s films are often bursting at the seams — with ideas, with lush visuals, and, depending on the scene, with bloodshed or laughter and, oftentimes, both. No Other Choice is the Korean master’s latest work, a sprawling, bleak look at late-stage capitalism, masculinity, the nuclear family, and the ways all of these concepts warp the very idea of who we are.

No Other Choice Is Messy But Brilliant

If you asked Man-su prior to the events of the film whether he was capable of murder, he’d probably say no. In fact, he has a lot of difficulty even pulling it off once he decides to commit to killing off his rivals. He locates them by putting out an ad for a fake job in paper industry magazine, tracking down those who are also interviewing for a position at another paper company.

Some set pieces are downright absurd, with No Other Choice dabbling in zany hijinks as much as it does social commentary and domestic strife. Man-su’s simple plans often devolve into utter chaos and watching him try (and often fail) to murder his compeтιтion results in some of the film’s funniest scenes.

It’s what’s at the core of this effort that makes Man-su such a compelling figure. Once he is laid off, Man-su is forced to reckon with who he really is and who he wants to be. For anyone, this can be a tough proposition, but for a married middle-aged man so set in his ways, this can be nearly impossible. Murder isn’t the only thing on Park’s mind, though.

No Other Choice may be a bloody thriller, but it’s also a compelling and distinctly hilarious domestic drama. As Man-su’s anxiety bleeds into every other facet of his life, the panic is palpable, every interaction viewed through the lens of this new secret he carries and all the funnier for it.

Often at the other end of this anxiety is Man-su’s wife Miri (a brilliant Son Ye-jin). She becomes increasingly exasperated both by her husband’s erratic behavior and the choices she’s forced to make as she becomes the sole breadwinner of a family that includes her troubled teenage son from another marriage and their cello prodigy daughter.

Miri’s logical approach to their situation contrasts so brilliantly against Man-su’s desperation. We’re never meant to root for Man-su in his discomfiting need for validation or volatile behavior, but you can’t help but feel sorry for him, even if Park isn’t really asking you to. No one in No Other Choice is a truly sympathetic figure, which makes its tapestry of characters compellingly elusive.

This film is a slippery piece of work, underscored by Park’s usual visual flair. Still one of the most creative directors alive, there are several gasp-worthy visuals in No Other Choice, including one that rivals that transition from Nicole Kidman’s hair to the bellowing fields of wheat in Stoker.

No Other Choice is a sprawling epic, one that feels like it’s threatening to burst at any second. Through sheer force of will, though, Park and Lee hold the proceedings together. It’s bleak and hysterical and violent — everything you’d want from a Park film. But it’s also devastatingly intimate and intensely relevant, both in the ways it tackles questions of idenтιтy and our place within an increasingly dangerous system, one that could feasibly lead people to murder.

No Other Choice screened at the Toronto International Film Festival. Neon will give the film a wide release in January 2026.