“The sins of our fathers are visited upon the children” is a phrase that immediately comes to mind post-viewing of Fragment (Pa-pyeon). Often, in the wake of a crime, society forgets that the family members of those who commit crimes are often victimized themselves, and yet, they are often vilified.
In writer/director Kim Sung-yoon‘s directorial feature debut, he shines a magnifying glass on the relentless judgment of society toward the children of criminals, reminding us in the process that they too are victims and should be treated with empathy rather than cruelty.
You would think empathy would be a given, and yet, in Fragment, Kim Sun-yoon demonstrates how quickly judgment shifts. Taking place after the crime has been committed, the film focuses on two middle schoolers, each with their own struggles. After his father has been arrested for murder, Jun-gang (Oh Ja-hun) is forced drastically into adulthood. From having to take care of and shield the truth from his little sister (Kim Gyu-na) to desperately trying to find a job to prevent them from being evicted, there is no time to rest for the student.
Jun-gang’s father murdered the parents of Gi-su (Moon Seong-hyun), who spends much of Fragment navigating between depression and rage as he processes his grief. Compared to Jun-gang, he is given more grace to lash out, to wallow in despair, while his guilt over not being there for his parents eats him alive.
His school and his remaining family members are there to support him, offering guidance on how to move forward and succeed. However, for Gi-su, his only focus is on revenge, and unfortunately, Jun-gang ends up his target.
In Fragment, Oh Ja-hun fantastically navigates the nuance of Jun-gang’s evolving complicated situation.
What happens when the crime is revealed creates a devastating ripple effect, forcing an already defensive Jun-gang to tighten further. Judgment rains down on him and his sister; their father’s actions serve as a catalyst for mistreatment by adults and peers alike who feel they deserve it. It doesn’t matter that they are children in the eyes of society. That they had no hand in the crimes themselves. It is guilt by association, and all that is seen is their future criminal potential.
Kim Sung-yoon never fails to expose the harmful impact and hypocrisy that Korean society imposes on Jun-gang and his sister. Each escalating retaliation against them for being the children of a murderer is damning. If either of them shows an outburst of negative emotion, it reinforces what everyone thinks of them – that they are no good. That they may be just as evil as their father is. With no room for grace or reprieve, and with limited options available to them, they are caught between a rock and a hard place.
What makes Fragment such a compelling and difficult watch, aside from the strength of its storytelling, is its actors. With the focus being on the children left behind by this crime, the performances would make or break the film.
In this, the casting was impeccable from top to bottom, with Oh Ja-hun’s Jun-gang completely tugging at the heartstrings. As Jun-gang slowly loses grasp of the fragile control he has over his life, Oh Ja-hun’s face is a canvas, perfectly illustrating the complexities and weight of everything happening to him.
Kim Sun-yoon makes sure the audience never forgets that the characters are still children.
And make no mistake, a lot of what is happening is happening to Jun-gang and his sister. With each escalation, Oh Ja-hun’s body language slowly collapses into himself. Compared to Moon Seong-hyun’s Gi-su, who has been seen as a victim from the beginning and has had the freedom and privilege to break down, Jun-gang has been gripping onto his emotions as tightly as he can. By the time he reaches his final breaking point, it is a release that is hard-won and devastating once reached.
Equally devastating is Gi-su, who, despite having supports in place, can’t move on from his guilt. In contrast to Jun-gang, Moon Seong-hyun radiates intensity, unafraid to dive deep into the nasty levels of physicality and teenage-riddled grief that grip Gi-su.
Even when Gi-su is committing objectively awful actions in his pursuit of revenge, it’s understandable. He has lost his parents, and when he’s not lashing out at the world, he lashes out at himself. His pain is palatable. It doesn’t excuse what he does, however.
It is these shades of grey and the unrelenting honesty of Kim Sung-yoon’s approach to the subject matter that make Fragment a captivating watch. The film forces the audience to confront their own biases, but also the treatment of children and family members after a crime is committed.
There is an uncomfortable, little-discussed reality in this film, one that extends to all cultures. How we treat children, regardless of circumstances, is a reflection of our society, and in Fragment, the reflection is hard to digest.
Fragment played as a part of the 2025 Fantasia International Film Festival.
Fragment (2025)
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9.5/10
TL;DR
How we treat children, regardless of circumstances, is a reflection of our society, and in Fragment, the reflection is hard to digest.