Soon to be a YouTube livestream in 2029, the Oscars return on March 15. The Academy added a new category, Best Casting, and “Sinners” is now the most nominated film in Oscars history. But honestly, who cares about what they nominated if my favorite movies got overlooked?
For the second time in a row, an excellent film by Korean director Park Chan-wook was completely neglected. If you’re able, run, don’t walk, to a streaming service near you to watch “No Other Choice” (2025) and its older sibling “Decision to Leave” (2022).
“No Other Choice,” based on the 1997 novel “The Ax,” follows Man-su, an award-winning paper company employee who is laid off from his job after an American firm buys out his company. After more than a year of unemployment and no luck in finding another job in the paper industry, he decides to kill all of his competitors to become the best, and only, applicant for the job.
After a comically stoic performance as the antagonist of Netflix’s “Squid Game,” Lee Byung-hun exhibits striking range in this film. This is Lee’s second film with Park Chan-wook. Previously, the two worked together on Park’s 2000 debut film “Joint Security Area.” Lee is a massive star in Korea, and you might recognize his voice in “KPop Demon Hunters.” Lee’s is easily one of the best performances of the year. Stereotypically, one might associate a ‘good performance’ with lots of yelling or crying, but “No Other Choice” shows Lee Byung-hun at his most calculated.
Park Chan-wook has made a name for himself by crafting meticulous crime thrillers over the past quarter-century, such as his most popular film, “Oldboy” from 2003. “No Other Choice” is no different; it’s stylish, energetic, darkly funny and kicks you in the teeth with a class-conscious, anticorporate conclusion. You’ll love “No Other Choice” if you don’t mind subtitles and want a fun movie with plenty to chew on. In an ideal world, “No Other Choice” would be nominated for Best Picture, Best International Feature Film, Best Adapted Screenplay and Best Lead Actor.
Despite a shoutout at the Golden Globes by the legendary Julia Roberts, Eva Victor’s debut film “Sorry, Baby” is missing from the ranks it deserves to be among.
“Sorry, Baby” is a success story of a different nature. Eva Victor is an actor by trade, but wrote one of the most thoughtful and emotional screenplays of the year. “Sorry, Baby” stars Victor as Agnes, a young literature professor at a college in rural Maine, who is still dealing with the trauma and depression caused by sexual assault from her dissertation advisor a few years earlier.
I would characterize the movie as somewhat numb, at least on the surface. The characters are relatively emotionless, but there’s an implacable honesty throughout all of their interactions. Agnes is awkward and puzzling at times, but they magnetically keep your attention in every scene. Not to mention Olga, the gray housecat Agnes adopts, is worth the price of admission alone.
“Sorry, Baby” doesn’t look to “solve” depression as so many recent indie movies have. Instead, the film treats it like a constant, but fading, pressure. Pressure to shy away from some relationships while desperately clawing for others. Pressure to succeed in life while injecting a dose of indifference. Pressure to seclude yourself, but also pressure to remember that you can have a good life.
The movie ends hopefully, but reminds you of that blunt honesty it likes so much. Life will be mostly a struggle, but it’s worth it to carry the hope that things will get better. If I had it my way, “Sorry, Baby” would be nominated for Best Lead Actress, Best Picture and Best Original Screenplay.