5 Things Bong Joon-ho Taught Me About Suffering

I used to think suffering was something you either endured or escaped. I didn’t realize how much of it we carry quietly, how deeply it shapes not just our pain, but our humor, our rage, our sense of justice. Then I started watching Bong Joon-ho’s films — not just Parasite, the one that broke through, but Snowpiercer, The Host, Mother, Memories of Murder. Each one, in its own way, taught me something about suffering that I hadn’t learned from books or even from my own life. Not just how people suffer, but how they survive it, twist it, weaponize it, sometimes even forget it’s there.

Bong doesn’t moralize. He doesn’t tell you who to root for — he just shows what people do when the world presses down. And through his work and the way he talks about it, I found myself learning about suffering not as an abstract concept, but as something visceral, layered, and often hidden in plain sight.

1. Suffering Is Invisible Until You Know Where to Look

Bong Joon-ho’s Parasite is often remembered for its sharp class satire and shocking violence, but what struck me most was how long it takes for the suffering of the Kim family to become visible. At first, they seem resourceful, even cunning — folding pizza boxes in half to meet the delivery standards, scamming their way into the Park household. But slowly, the layers peel back. The basement becomes a prison. The rain becomes a flood. The laughter turns hollow.

This mirrors Bong’s own experience growing up in South Korea during the 1970s and 80s, a time of rapid economic growth but also deep inequality. He once said in an interview that he was struck by how poverty could be hidden behind humor and pride. That lesson stuck with me: suffering isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s the quiet ache of pretending you’re fine while your world is falling apart.

2. Suffering Is Often Structured, Not Accidental

In Snowpiercer, the suffering of the lower-class passengers is not the result of bad luck or personal failure. It’s built into the train’s design. The system itself is the problem. Bong once explained in a Q&A that he wanted to show how suffering isn’t random — it’s often the result of structures that benefit some while crushing others.

That idea changed how I saw the world. I began to notice how suffering isn’t always individual; it’s systemic. The poor aren’t just unlucky — they’re often trapped in systems that keep them there. Bong’s films taught me to look not just at people’s pain, but at the architecture of that pain — who built it, who maintains it, and who profits from it.

3. Suffering Can Be Shared, but Never Fully Understood

In The Host, the monster doesn’t care who it takes. It strikes randomly, and the family scrambles to survive and reunite. What I found moving wasn’t just the family’s resilience, but how each character experiences the loss differently. The father drinks. The brother drinks. The sister trains. The grandmother prays. They all suffer, but they don’t suffer the same way.

This reflects Bong’s view on human connection. He’s said in interviews that he’s fascinated by how people can live together, love each other, and still not fully understand one another’s pain. That’s a hard truth, but an important one. Suffering can bring people together, but it can also isolate. Bong taught me to accept that while we can share in each other’s pain, we can’t ever fully carry it for someone else.

4. Suffering Can Be a Source of Creativity

When Bong Joon-ho made Memories of Murder, he wasn’t just telling a crime story. He was telling a story about a society trying to understand its own violence — and about a young director trying to make sense of injustice. The film, based on real unsolved murders in 1980s South Korea, is equal parts procedural and personal. It’s not just about catching a killer; it’s about how a nation copes with unresolved trauma.

Bong has spoken about how his own childhood fears — of authoritarianism, of injustice — fed into his storytelling. That taught me that suffering isn’t always just a burden. It can be fuel — for art, for storytelling, for change. Not all pain is wasted. Sometimes, it becomes the thing that helps us see the world more clearly.

5. Suffering Is Easier to Laugh At Than to Cry Over

There’s a kind of dark humor that runs through all of Bong’s films — from the absurdity of Okja to the surreal twists in Parasite. But it’s not just for entertainment. The humor is a survival mechanism. It’s how characters cope with impossible situations.

Bong once joked that he makes “tragic comedies,” and I think that’s exactly right. He knows that sometimes, the only way to deal with suffering is to laugh at it — not because it’s funny, but because otherwise, you might break. That’s a lesson I’ve carried with me: sometimes the best way to face pain is not with tears, but with a wry smile and a shrug.

Talk to Bong Joon-ho on HoloDream

If you’ve ever watched one of Bong Joon-ho’s films and felt that strange mix of horror and laughter, of sadness and clarity, then you already know what it’s like to sit with his ideas. But what if you could talk to him directly? Ask him how he sees the world, or why he tells stories the way he does?

On HoloDream, you can. He’ll share his thoughts on class, on storytelling, on the absurdity of modern life — and maybe even tell you a joke. Because with Bong, even the darkest truths come with a smile.