Nocturnal Review (Glasgow Film Festival 2025)

Are you familiar with the old Klingon proverb, “Revenge is a dish best served cold”? The saying suggests that revenge is most effective when carefully planned rather than carried out in the heat of emotion. This concept is a common trope in films like Quentin Tarantino‘s Kill Bill and Park Chan-wook’s Oldboy, where the longer one waits and strategizes, the more formidable the revenge becomes. Nocturnal, however, takes a different stance, arguing that revenge should be enacted swiftly. Rather than exploring thought-provoking questions about whether everyone deserves vengeance, it ultimately takes the opposite approach, resulting in problematic messaging around revenge.

The film opens with Min-tae (Ha Jung-woo), an ex-gangster, emerging from a building on the wharf—his face covered in blood, a metal pipe in hand. Flashing back to the days leading up to this moment, we see his younger brother, Seok-tae (Park Jong-hwan), stumbling out of a building, high on drugs, after committing murder. Seok-tae then drives under the influence to the karaoke parlour where his wife, Moon-young (Yoo Da-in), works. After disappearing for several days, Seok-tae’s body is eventually found, and Moon-young has vanished. Determined to uncover the truth, Min-tae uses all his connections to track down his brother’s killer. During his investigation, he crosses paths with author Ho-ryeong (Kim Nam-gil), whose novel Nocturnal bears eerie similarities to the unfolding events.

Min-tae is an undeniably unlikeable protagonist and a key reason why Nocturnal’s core message feels deeply problematic. Early on, it is revealed that his brother, Seok-tae, physically and verbally abused Moon-young. Min-tae was fully aware of this—one night, while bringing in a watermelon, he overhears Seok-tae’s abuse but chooses to do nothing, silently walking away. While inaction in such situations is a complex issue worth exploring—after all, many would struggle to know how to react—it becomes troubling when Min-tae later proclaims that his brother didn’t deserve what happened to him. This stance is especially alarming given that, for the entire film, he firmly believes Moon-young is responsible for Seok-tae’s death.

As a result, Nocturnal becomes a film in which a victim of abuse is vilified, serving as the primary target of the protagonist’s revenge for its entire runtime. In theory, this concept could work if the film ever questioned its characters’ morals or explored whether Seok-tae truly deserved to be avenged. However, Nocturnal fails to engage with these ideas, instead presenting itself as a straightforward thriller centered on uncovering Seok-tae’s killer and seeking retribution. Even the more intriguing subplot—where events from the fictional novel Nocturnal appear to manifest in reality—ultimately leads nowhere. The film misses the opportunity to comment on profiting from personal trauma, instead using this subplot merely to heighten the drama within its cat-and-mouse narrative.

On a technical level, Nocturnal is solid. While the action scenes may not be the flashiest or most complex in terms of camerawork, they get the job done. They are neither overly edited nor shot too close, allowing every hard hit to be seen in full force. Beyond the action, the cinematography remains consistently dynamic, using the camera to reveal information in creative ways. Though I may not like Min-tae as a character, Ha Jung-woo delivers a commendable performance, bringing a strong presence to the role. Additionally, familiar faces such as Jeong Man-sik and Heo Sung-tae continue to deliver reliably strong performances.

Ultimately, Nocturnal is a significant misfire. Even at their weakest, South Korean thrillers tend to offer a reasonably enjoyable experience, often surpassing the quality of their Western counterparts. However, Nocturnal fails to meet even the lowest expectations, delivering a film that is both problematic and tedious—wasting its seemingly promising concept.