3
This review may contain spoilers
A Love That Needs No Fixing
There are stories that whisper, stories that shout, and then there are stories that simply exist—softly, beautifully, unapologetically. Between Complete and Incomplete is one of those stories.
This right here was so amazing—explicit ACE and poly representation? Omg. And done so well too. Minho, an asexual man, in a poly relationship with Seongjin and Gyutae. A love that is neither fractured nor forced to be whole, but simply is.
Seongjin, the calm and understanding one, bridges their love so effortlessly, holding Minho and Gyutae in his quiet strength. He understands them so well, helps them navigate their emotions, never pushing, always listening. The film does not stumble into the trap of "fixing" asexuality. There is no forced resolution, no expectation for Minho to "change" or "compromise."
Instead, his boundaries are honored, his love is understood, and his presence is enough.
And the terms—polyamory, ACE—used so naturally, woven seamlessly into the dialogue. The conversation with Minho's friend? A gift. They explain asexuality so well—not just as the absence of sexual attraction, but as something that can still hold love, connection, and even enjoyment in its own way. Asexuality is not a void; it is simply a different way of being, a different way of feeling.
The details made my heart ache in the best way. The way Minho takes pictures of his lovers, capturing them with quiet devotion. The way Seongjin and Gyutae never pressure him, always making sure he is comfortable. The way he loves, and shows it, in ways that are his own.
And the quality? Stunning. Every frame, every shot, intentional and intimate. The film breathes, lingers, lets the emotions settle in your chest.
As an asexual myself, this film spoke to me. For those who have longed to see themselves reflected, Between Complete and Incomplete is more than a film—it is a sigh of relief, a quiet revolution. Love does not always need fixing. Sometimes, it just needs to be understood.
This right here was so amazing—explicit ACE and poly representation? Omg. And done so well too. Minho, an asexual man, in a poly relationship with Seongjin and Gyutae. A love that is neither fractured nor forced to be whole, but simply is.
Seongjin, the calm and understanding one, bridges their love so effortlessly, holding Minho and Gyutae in his quiet strength. He understands them so well, helps them navigate their emotions, never pushing, always listening. The film does not stumble into the trap of "fixing" asexuality. There is no forced resolution, no expectation for Minho to "change" or "compromise."
Instead, his boundaries are honored, his love is understood, and his presence is enough.
And the terms—polyamory, ACE—used so naturally, woven seamlessly into the dialogue. The conversation with Minho's friend? A gift. They explain asexuality so well—not just as the absence of sexual attraction, but as something that can still hold love, connection, and even enjoyment in its own way. Asexuality is not a void; it is simply a different way of being, a different way of feeling.
The details made my heart ache in the best way. The way Minho takes pictures of his lovers, capturing them with quiet devotion. The way Seongjin and Gyutae never pressure him, always making sure he is comfortable. The way he loves, and shows it, in ways that are his own.
And the quality? Stunning. Every frame, every shot, intentional and intimate. The film breathes, lingers, lets the emotions settle in your chest.
As an asexual myself, this film spoke to me. For those who have longed to see themselves reflected, Between Complete and Incomplete is more than a film—it is a sigh of relief, a quiet revolution. Love does not always need fixing. Sometimes, it just needs to be understood.
Was this review helpful to you?
