The Ethics of Aesthetics: Misbehavior and the Limits of Subtext
Wow, okay. Well. To start, Misbehavior is not a bad film. But it’s also not particularly good. It falls squarely in that frustrating middle space. A story with potential, a mood with bite, and just enough talent on screen to keep you watching… but not enough follow-through to leave any lasting impression.
The premise alone is already a lot to chew on: two female teachers. A senior contract instructor and a newly hired full-time one become entangled in a tense, jealous rivalry over their male high school student. There’s a sexual component. Possibly romantic, although the emotional dynamics are so shallow and confused that it's hard to tell if the film is aiming for erotic tension, predatory power play, or just general mess. Either way, the setup is deeply ethically questionable. But strangely, that’s not the biggest problem here.
Uncomfortable or controversial subject matter can work when it’s handled with nuance and clarity of purpose. Misbehavior doesn’t have that. The film seems more interested in aesthetic discomfort than actual character or thematic development. It wants to be unsettling, but it doesn’t seem to know why. It gestures at taboos, at institutional power imbalances, at buried rage, but only ever in half-measures.
Let’s talk pacing. The first half is slow and vaguely tense. Like the story is winding a spring, waiting to snap. But the second half unravels way too quickly. Critical plot points come in rapid succession without emotional buildup or payoff. It’s jarring, not in an intentional, disorienting way, but more like a writer realizing they’re running out of time and speed-running the climax. By the time the credits roll, you’re still trying to process a shift that didn’t feel earned.
Kim Ha-neul is the saving grace here. Her portrayal of Park Hyo-joo is unnervingly restrained. A woman so tightly wound, so completely at the mercy of her own internalized failure, that even her most violent moments feel like they’re happening from a place of quiet, hollow inevitability. You can see the years of professional frustration, emotional suppression, and self-loathing living just beneath the surface. It’s a nuanced performance trapped in a script that doesn’t give her nearly enough to work with. She deserved a better vehicle.
Lee Won-geun’s character (Shin Jae-ha) is less a person and more a plot device. Painted to be manipulative, but we all know he’s the real victim here. The second teacher, played by Yoo In-young, is equally underwritten, which is a shame because the bones of a compelling rivalry are there. Instead, we get cardboard motivations and stiff confrontations.
One thing I will give the film: it resists the urge to offer a character to "root" for. Everyone here is flawed in different, unappealing ways. It’s the kind of story where you’re not meant to pick sides so much as watch the trainwreck unfold. I usually appreciate that.. narratives where everyone’s just as damaged as the next person, and you’re forced to sit in the discomfort of it all. But even that quality starts to wear thin when the characters are this emotionally undercooked.
The film is painted with a lot of big themes: gendered power dynamics, academic hierarchy, social invisibility, the ways institutions suppress and warp women’s agency. These are all rich, worthy subjects. But Misbehavior handles them like set dressing. You can see the intention in certain scenes. A passing line about job insecurity, a glance during a faculty meeting, the subtle difference in how the school treats the two women… but none of it is interrogated in any meaningful way.
Visually, the film works very well. It’s cold, sparse, and tonally cohesive. The sterile setting of the school complements the emotional emptiness of the characters. There's a kind of quiet, aching bleakness to the whole thing that’s effective in moments. But you can only ride on mood and minimalism for so long before you start to wonder if anything’s actually happening.
Final thoughts? Misbehavior could have been a disturbing, layered portrait of female rage, institutional failure, and manipulative relationships. It had the atmosphere, the actors, and the potential. But it stops just short of doing anything meaningful with them. What’s left is a film that looks serious, acts serious, but never quite earns its seriousness.
Would I recommend it? Only if you're in the mood for a morally ambiguous slow-burn that leaves you mildly frustrated. Otherwise, you’re not missing much.
The premise alone is already a lot to chew on: two female teachers. A senior contract instructor and a newly hired full-time one become entangled in a tense, jealous rivalry over their male high school student. There’s a sexual component. Possibly romantic, although the emotional dynamics are so shallow and confused that it's hard to tell if the film is aiming for erotic tension, predatory power play, or just general mess. Either way, the setup is deeply ethically questionable. But strangely, that’s not the biggest problem here.
Uncomfortable or controversial subject matter can work when it’s handled with nuance and clarity of purpose. Misbehavior doesn’t have that. The film seems more interested in aesthetic discomfort than actual character or thematic development. It wants to be unsettling, but it doesn’t seem to know why. It gestures at taboos, at institutional power imbalances, at buried rage, but only ever in half-measures.
Let’s talk pacing. The first half is slow and vaguely tense. Like the story is winding a spring, waiting to snap. But the second half unravels way too quickly. Critical plot points come in rapid succession without emotional buildup or payoff. It’s jarring, not in an intentional, disorienting way, but more like a writer realizing they’re running out of time and speed-running the climax. By the time the credits roll, you’re still trying to process a shift that didn’t feel earned.
Kim Ha-neul is the saving grace here. Her portrayal of Park Hyo-joo is unnervingly restrained. A woman so tightly wound, so completely at the mercy of her own internalized failure, that even her most violent moments feel like they’re happening from a place of quiet, hollow inevitability. You can see the years of professional frustration, emotional suppression, and self-loathing living just beneath the surface. It’s a nuanced performance trapped in a script that doesn’t give her nearly enough to work with. She deserved a better vehicle.
Lee Won-geun’s character (Shin Jae-ha) is less a person and more a plot device. Painted to be manipulative, but we all know he’s the real victim here. The second teacher, played by Yoo In-young, is equally underwritten, which is a shame because the bones of a compelling rivalry are there. Instead, we get cardboard motivations and stiff confrontations.
One thing I will give the film: it resists the urge to offer a character to "root" for. Everyone here is flawed in different, unappealing ways. It’s the kind of story where you’re not meant to pick sides so much as watch the trainwreck unfold. I usually appreciate that.. narratives where everyone’s just as damaged as the next person, and you’re forced to sit in the discomfort of it all. But even that quality starts to wear thin when the characters are this emotionally undercooked.
The film is painted with a lot of big themes: gendered power dynamics, academic hierarchy, social invisibility, the ways institutions suppress and warp women’s agency. These are all rich, worthy subjects. But Misbehavior handles them like set dressing. You can see the intention in certain scenes. A passing line about job insecurity, a glance during a faculty meeting, the subtle difference in how the school treats the two women… but none of it is interrogated in any meaningful way.
Visually, the film works very well. It’s cold, sparse, and tonally cohesive. The sterile setting of the school complements the emotional emptiness of the characters. There's a kind of quiet, aching bleakness to the whole thing that’s effective in moments. But you can only ride on mood and minimalism for so long before you start to wonder if anything’s actually happening.
Final thoughts? Misbehavior could have been a disturbing, layered portrait of female rage, institutional failure, and manipulative relationships. It had the atmosphere, the actors, and the potential. But it stops just short of doing anything meaningful with them. What’s left is a film that looks serious, acts serious, but never quite earns its seriousness.
Would I recommend it? Only if you're in the mood for a morally ambiguous slow-burn that leaves you mildly frustrated. Otherwise, you’re not missing much.
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