News 
This review may contain spoilers
A best psychological thriller!
"They finally found the man who ruined their family and their lives. They were ready to get their revenge, but he didn't remember a thing."
What a fever dream!
It is one of the best psychological thrillers I have ever enjoyed, even though parts of the plot felt somewhat predictable at first. It was a fascinating way to deconstruct the importance of memory, guilt, and identity, packed with twists that rolled right into one another without mercy.
It made me linger on a haunting paradox: if a mind forgets its sins, does the soul become innocent again? Can erased memories truly wash away the blood of a crime, or does guilt remain etched in the dark, waiting to wake? What binds a culprit to their actions—is it the cold proof of what their hands have done, or the quiet reckoning of a conscience that finally remembers? And when a killer is born out of sheer desperation and heartbreak, where do we weigh his sorrow against the shattered lives left behind—and how do the innocent ever find their justice?
Song Jin-seok made me feel so troubled yet deeply invested. The first half was intoxicating. Kim Mu-yeol, as Yoo-seok, brought so much devious charm and a cunning, suspicious air to the screen. Even though the script felt a bit bare at the start, the cinematography still held me in a gripping trance. The entire time, I was actively guessing who or what was behind that locked door. I even expected to find Jin-seok’s real brother inside; alas, it was so cool to be met with such an unforeseen truth. Watching Jin-seok observe Yoo-seok’s altered behavior and suspect him of being an impostor—only to discover later that he himself is the impostor in his own life—was hauntingly incredible.
There were so many scenes that made me jump even when I was completely braced for them. That girl in his nightmare who appears out of nowhere—my heart practically leapt out of my ribs! And that scene where Jin-seok tries to climb through the window and reason with the "mother" in the shimmering rain had me gripped and agonizing for him. Not to mention that freaky, unsettling smile from the "father"—whew!
The coolest moment in the whole film for me is when he realizes it’s 2017 and he’s actually 41. Damn, I experienced a massive, peak-level truth reveal right there. The hypnosis angle was so traumatic. Yoo-seok actually orchestrated the entire illusion to force Jin-seok to remember his past and confess. This tragically explored the destructive nature of repressed trauma and the fragility of human memory—as well as how one person’s craving for truth is simply another’s forgotten nightmare.
Honestly, discovering the hired actors behind that door was somehow even more traumatizing than finding a tied-up brother would have been.
The whole mission to make Jin-seok remember is wildly intense, and his real backstory is horrifying. No wonder he developed dissociative amnesia. He committed a double murder in 1997 just to save his sick, disabled brother. As the story culminates in a brutal confrontation where Jin-seok's memories finally return, it’s revealed that the doctor—the victim's own husband—actually hired Jin-seok to kill his wife so he could collect the insurance money. Sheesh! And to make matters worse, the doctor was accidentally killed during the struggle because of Jin-seok. Give me a break! All those deaths were so horrendous. It’s devastating that, unable to cope with the trauma and the fallout of the 1997 Asian financial crisis, he retreated into amnesia, creating a false reality where he was still a young man living happily with his parents. Tragically, delusion is sweeter than a horrific reality.
"Fuck, that night...Why didn't you kill that kid too?"
For some reason, I just knew that spared boy was Choi (the fake Yoo-seok). He suffered so much, too—robbed of his family and his father’s legacy, and left to survive in an orphanage. The kid was so sweet; he woke up from what was probably a lovely dream only to lose his entire family at just five years old!
Looking at what Choi did to seek vengeance and closure shows how deeply the need for justice runs. Instead of taking a legal route, he relied on practical and emotional manipulation, staging an elaborate play to let Jin-seok relive his youth and his false dream before shattering it—which ultimately consumed them both.
I love how the movie's title, Forgotten, not only represents erased memories, but also how both men were abandoned by society—one left behind in poverty during a financial collapse, and the other stripped of his family and future. It drastically amplifies the painful weight of the narrative. I really appreciated how the film explores the moral dilemma that justice feels empty if the perpetrator doesn't even know what they did. When Jin-seok finally remembers the truth, owns his crime, and forces Choi to confront his own conscience, the ultimate tragedy becomes clear: the monster Choi spent 20 years hunting no longer existed—until Choi resurrected him through hypnosis. In the end, both had to wrestle with a painful truth that might have been better left forgotten.
The movie also boasts an excellent musical score alongside a solid script and relentless twists. The actors were brilliant. The movie completely enticed me with its seamless transition from a claustrophobic, haunted-house thriller into a gut-wrenching tragedy about grief, survival, and repressed guilt.
Gonna go hunt for more hidden gems like this!
What a fever dream!
It is one of the best psychological thrillers I have ever enjoyed, even though parts of the plot felt somewhat predictable at first. It was a fascinating way to deconstruct the importance of memory, guilt, and identity, packed with twists that rolled right into one another without mercy.
It made me linger on a haunting paradox: if a mind forgets its sins, does the soul become innocent again? Can erased memories truly wash away the blood of a crime, or does guilt remain etched in the dark, waiting to wake? What binds a culprit to their actions—is it the cold proof of what their hands have done, or the quiet reckoning of a conscience that finally remembers? And when a killer is born out of sheer desperation and heartbreak, where do we weigh his sorrow against the shattered lives left behind—and how do the innocent ever find their justice?
Song Jin-seok made me feel so troubled yet deeply invested. The first half was intoxicating. Kim Mu-yeol, as Yoo-seok, brought so much devious charm and a cunning, suspicious air to the screen. Even though the script felt a bit bare at the start, the cinematography still held me in a gripping trance. The entire time, I was actively guessing who or what was behind that locked door. I even expected to find Jin-seok’s real brother inside; alas, it was so cool to be met with such an unforeseen truth. Watching Jin-seok observe Yoo-seok’s altered behavior and suspect him of being an impostor—only to discover later that he himself is the impostor in his own life—was hauntingly incredible.
There were so many scenes that made me jump even when I was completely braced for them. That girl in his nightmare who appears out of nowhere—my heart practically leapt out of my ribs! And that scene where Jin-seok tries to climb through the window and reason with the "mother" in the shimmering rain had me gripped and agonizing for him. Not to mention that freaky, unsettling smile from the "father"—whew!
The coolest moment in the whole film for me is when he realizes it’s 2017 and he’s actually 41. Damn, I experienced a massive, peak-level truth reveal right there. The hypnosis angle was so traumatic. Yoo-seok actually orchestrated the entire illusion to force Jin-seok to remember his past and confess. This tragically explored the destructive nature of repressed trauma and the fragility of human memory—as well as how one person’s craving for truth is simply another’s forgotten nightmare.
Honestly, discovering the hired actors behind that door was somehow even more traumatizing than finding a tied-up brother would have been.
The whole mission to make Jin-seok remember is wildly intense, and his real backstory is horrifying. No wonder he developed dissociative amnesia. He committed a double murder in 1997 just to save his sick, disabled brother. As the story culminates in a brutal confrontation where Jin-seok's memories finally return, it’s revealed that the doctor—the victim's own husband—actually hired Jin-seok to kill his wife so he could collect the insurance money. Sheesh! And to make matters worse, the doctor was accidentally killed during the struggle because of Jin-seok. Give me a break! All those deaths were so horrendous. It’s devastating that, unable to cope with the trauma and the fallout of the 1997 Asian financial crisis, he retreated into amnesia, creating a false reality where he was still a young man living happily with his parents. Tragically, delusion is sweeter than a horrific reality.
"Fuck, that night...Why didn't you kill that kid too?"
For some reason, I just knew that spared boy was Choi (the fake Yoo-seok). He suffered so much, too—robbed of his family and his father’s legacy, and left to survive in an orphanage. The kid was so sweet; he woke up from what was probably a lovely dream only to lose his entire family at just five years old!
Looking at what Choi did to seek vengeance and closure shows how deeply the need for justice runs. Instead of taking a legal route, he relied on practical and emotional manipulation, staging an elaborate play to let Jin-seok relive his youth and his false dream before shattering it—which ultimately consumed them both.
I love how the movie's title, Forgotten, not only represents erased memories, but also how both men were abandoned by society—one left behind in poverty during a financial collapse, and the other stripped of his family and future. It drastically amplifies the painful weight of the narrative. I really appreciated how the film explores the moral dilemma that justice feels empty if the perpetrator doesn't even know what they did. When Jin-seok finally remembers the truth, owns his crime, and forces Choi to confront his own conscience, the ultimate tragedy becomes clear: the monster Choi spent 20 years hunting no longer existed—until Choi resurrected him through hypnosis. In the end, both had to wrestle with a painful truth that might have been better left forgotten.
The movie also boasts an excellent musical score alongside a solid script and relentless twists. The actors were brilliant. The movie completely enticed me with its seamless transition from a claustrophobic, haunted-house thriller into a gut-wrenching tragedy about grief, survival, and repressed guilt.
Gonna go hunt for more hidden gems like this!
Was this review helpful to you?
