A Taxi Driver (2017)

A Taxi Driver is special because it turns a monumental, painful moment in history into something immediate and human, seen from the driver’s seat of an ordinary man who just wants to keep his head down and feed his daughter. Song Kang-ho gives a wonderfully grounded performance, letting the film’s emotions build not through speeches but through small choices, dawning awareness, and the stubborn decency that shows up when it matters. The vibe moves from brisk, almost crowd-pleasing momentum into tense, harrowing urgency, with action that’s gripping without ever feeling like it’s exploiting real suffering. It isn’t an easy watch—there are disturbing images and brutal violence—but if you want a film that’s accessible, powerfully acted, and quietly galvanizing about why truth needs witnesses, this one earns every minute.

A Taxi Driver is trying to do something admirable: take a shamefully suppressed chapter of Korean history and make it accessible through the eyes of an ordinary guy who just wants to feed his kid. It often succeeds thanks to Song Kang-ho’s grounded performance and the film’s raw sense of fear and moral awakening, but be warned it’s also built like a mainstream crowd-pleaser, with big emotional beats that can feel a bit pushed rather than earned. The late-stage action and chase elements may strike you as too convenient or “movie-ish” for such heavy material, and the violence is upsetting in a way that’s hard to shake. If you want a more restrained, analytical historical drama, this might feel overly melodramatic; if you can accept some conventional storytelling in exchange for urgency and heart, it’s a powerful watch.