‘The Bequeathed’ Review
Yeon Sang-ho has quickly become one of the most prominent Korean directors working today, thanks to the wild success of his expertly crafted zombie film, 2016’s Train to Busan. While his films since then have been hit or miss, his 2021 series, Hellbound, was an incredibly nuanced exploration of belief systems in a world where people are being killed off by mysterious demons in violent, horrific ways. While we patiently wait for Hellbound’s second season, Yeon Sang-ho has returned to television again with The Bequeathed - a suspenseful crime thriller oozing atmosphere while keeping its scope lean. With a curious eye toward the familial tensions that can arise during the grieving process, Yeon Sang-ho’s The Bequeathed is an uneven, but ultimately satisfying procedural that leaves plenty on the table in its search for narrative closure.
At the heart of every trouble in The Bequeathed is a burial ground. After the sudden death of an uncle she didn’t know she had, Yoon Seo-ha (Kim Hyun-joo) has unwittingly become the benefactor of her family’s burial ground. Located in a small village, the inheritance appears to be good news for the villagers until more people mysteriously die and other family members begin taking an interest in the plot of land. In the background of the family dispute is the village’s relationship with shamanism and the mysterious history of Seo-ha’s family, who have kept themselves hidden from her life thus far.
The six episodes alternate between perspectives, focusing on two separate storylines happening at the same time. One thread revolves around Seo-ha’s inheritance being called into question as she discovers a mysterious half-brother, Kim Yeong-ho (Ryoo Kyung-soo), who also has an interest in the plot of land. Ryoo’s performance is unsettling, but in that creepy way where you’re meant to believe that no matter what happens he very clearly must be responsible for something nefarious. He’s direct, to the point where everything he says sounds threatening, and while intentions seem good, his motivations are purposefully obfuscated by writer-director Min Hong-nam, who makes his directing debut with The Bequeathed. As Min delves deeper into their tense relationship, that clear obfuscation by the direction as opposed to the character becomes more agitating than understandable.
Meanwhile, there’s an ongoing police investigation as Detective Choi Sung-joon (Park Hee-soon) throws himself into solving the case of Yoon Seo-ha’s uncle and just how the family’s gravesite might be related to his and other deaths occurring within the village. His relationship with his superior, Park Sang-min (Park Byung-eun), has been strained for years since an incident in their past resulted in Sang-min permanently injuring his leg. Sang-min’s also plagued with an inferiority complex that sees contention towards his leadership ability in any action taken by Sung-joon. It results in an extremely antagonistic demeanor from Sang-min and an unreasonably confused one from Sung-joon, once the source of their strife becomes apparent. This is ultimately what makes The Bequeathed a frustrating show, even as its uncovering of events is intricately paced.
As each episode plays out, it always feels like people are behaving without empathy. It plays into Seo-ha’s conflict nicely as she navigates exploitation from those within her personal and professional life, always seeming to draw the short straw in the game of life. It results in an infuriating amount of people behaving monstrously without anyone conveying an understanding of the other’s perspective. It’s a problem in the relationship between Sung-joon and Sang-min and is compounded by the show’s refusal to reveal its whole hand too soon and having every character choose to remain silent instead of explaining themselves.
Eventually, it seems like The Bequeathed has just given up on character development and, specifically in the case of the detective storyline, just vaults towards closure, knowing it has very little time left to wrap up any loose ends. Everything wraps up neatly, though, but there’s a hollowness to it all. It doesn’t feel like catharsis has been found by the time The Bequeathed concludes, and it seems like Yeon and Min recognize this issue with the addition of a tacked-on epilogue. The bow it puts on the narrative is undeniably tidy, but it offers very little thematic or emotional closure that would have an impact.
The Bequeathed has shades of Bong Joon-ho’s Memories of Murder but with the added tinge of supernatural horror that feels reminiscent of the eerie terror found in Na Hong-jin’s The Wailing. Where those films tied a lot of their atmosphere to the themes of the film while still providing masterclasses in tension, The Bequeathed seems to mostly use its atmosphere as window dressing. It’s neither scary nor oppressive, it’s just setting a mood that the show then needs to realize. Ultimately, it doesn’t, but it does find an intricate enough web of secrets to maintain a compelling mystery that is overly designed and yet, enticing enough to want to see it to the end.
