Tiff Romania 2025: Bold Visions and Beautiful Nightmares
Noise
Kim Soo-jin’s feature debut evokes subconscious specters and auditory angst at TIFF Romania’s midnight movies section
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The true horror of Kim Soo-jin’s feature debut is not the ghostly beings that at some point fly through the air to attack the young protagonist Joo-yeong (Lee Sun-bin), nor is it the mental breakdown she faces.
It’s neighbors hushing at even the slightest sound for which they are constantly listening, neighbors throwing their trash in the cellar, transforming it into a pungent dump site, and neighbors walking loudly on the upper floor of the high-rise apartment she shares with her sister Joo-hee (Han Soo-a).
“Neighbors” might have been the working title of this spectral social horror, the most effective scares of which are the trivial terrors of a poorly soundproofed building.
Its interior serves as a social microcosm that demands constant consideration but displays utter inconsideration itself. Neighbors who knock on the walls or even your door, either signaling their complaints or giving cause for them.
Joo-hee, who has a limp since a car accident that years ago killed their parents, is furiously immersed in this toxic communal climate of provocation and paranoia. Joo-yeong, however, is physically distanced from this auditory aggression because of a hearing impairment.
It’s a promising twist that allows the Korean director-writer to redefine a condition commonly perceived as a handicap as a special ability.
There are traces of this socio-critical subversion in the young protagonist’s habit of discreetly switching off her electronic hearing aids to escape stressful situations. She mutes her boss during a rant or silences her extremely noisy factory work environment.
However, rather than exploring the cognitive potential in Joo-yeong’s specific skills, Kim focuses entirely on her hearing aids. They are elevated to some kind of ghost-detecting gadget as the inexplicable knocking and tapping sounds in the sisters’ apartment become threateningly oppressive, and Joo-hee vanishes.
Her boyfriend, Ki Hoon (Kim Min-Seok), assists Joo-yeong in her search in the sisters’ run-down apartment building. Its dimly lit hallways, creaking floors, and flickering lights provide ample room for a haunting atmosphere and the occasional jump scare.
Joo-yeong becomes convinced that a sinister force is invading their flat and has taken her sister. With her increasing mental strain, the plot highlights signs that her perception is, in fact, unreliable.
The scenario and setting are effective, if not particularly new, in their obvious parallels to Asian apartment horror staples like The Grudge and Dark Waters.
However, the practical metaphors Kim uses to channel the psychological subtext are rather clumsy.
The building’s cellar, filled with waste that is slowly rotting away, is an obvious allusion to the protagonist’s subconscious. While auditory hauntings are an integral part of the plot, they are never used to any inventive outcome. The titular noises hardly differ from the conventional sound scares in any other haunted house horror: creaking, thudding, faint steps, scratching, squeaking.
You’ve literally heard it all before.
Lee Sun-bin provides a suitably strong performance; however, the fact that she herself is not hearing impaired adds an uncomfortable ableist element to the casting. This is indirectly confirmed as Joo-yeung’s hearing impairment becomes more of an excuse for electronically amplified sound effects than an authentic aspect of her perception.
This lack of character depth and credibility is just another example of how this promising debut sidesteps its potential: a The Lodger-like fear of hypersensitive, hostile surroundings and an angst-y alienation from familiar spaces.
It’s a solid entry to TIFF Romania’s midnight movies, but true terror remains only a faint echo.
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