Chicken Run
Dir. 육상필 (Yook Sang Feel)
Gwangju Independent Film Festival
Gwangju
June 27, 2026
(Jisu Sheen recently moved from New Haven to Gwangju, South Korea, where she’s covering local arts and culture for the New Haven Independent and Midbrow.)
Ding-dong.
Imagine ringing a stranger’s doorbell, and it turns out to be your ex-girlfriend. Oh, and she’s getting married this month.
As if that’s not bad enough, your arm is made of fried chicken.
So begins the ridiculous (yet realer than real) roller coaster of comedy and social commentary that is Chicken Run, a short film by Korean director Yook Sang-Feel. It came out last year; I caught it Saturday at the 15th Annual Gwangju Independent Film Festival, in a special screening of shorts filmed in the city.
The movie might start with the classic awkward ex reunion, but it doesn’t get hung up on romantic drama or the shock of absurdity. It’s not a story of pure fantasy or realism, Yook explained in the talkback after the screening.
I had asked about his choice to have characters accept the surreal elements. Sure, they get annoyed, but they fold the obstacles into their new reality.
It’s a work of magical realism, Yook explained. He was inspired by literary works like the surreal short story collection Castella by 박민규 (Park Min-gyu).
For lead actor Bae Sung Ho, the glib reactions weren’t a choice—they were muscle memory.
“Lucky for me, before this role, I did a lot of cafe work,” Bae said in Korean. He worked until his body gave out, becoming one with his mattress at the end of his long days making coffee.
“Am I a coffee machine?” he remembers asking himself.
In the movie, Bae’s character Jinwon has become so fused with his chicken delivery hustle that his arm has developed a golden crunch. He keeps chicken feed by his bed. When he hits his head against a wall in frustration, he does so in a strikingly chicken-like manner.
It took me until almost the end of the film to realize the arm was not the first sign of Jinwon’s chicken transformation. The whole time, his cute rooster-comb delivery helmet was also a sinister hint of powerlessness and identity loss through capitalism’s grind.
A moviegoer in the crowd asked Bae about the parting scene, in which Jinwon runs through the streets, free of constraints, a picture of cathartic joy. Bae said the expression of joy wasn’t necessarily scripted. He just ran and ran, and when a smile emerged, he let it take over.
Chicken Run might be the funniest film I’ve seen this year. The soundtrack is bouncy, and the comedic twists are surprising even when you know what might happen. Every detail is infused with style.
The film is even funnier because, on some level, this shit’s not funny at all. We’re in this topsy-turvy, goofy, scary, Boots Riley world. Costs are rising, but are we?
I can only see the appetite for surreal cinema getting stronger as capitalism eats itself alive. It’s not just about camaraderie or release. It’s also about analysis. Humor keeps the spice tolerance high; I’m glad filmmakers like Yook are here to feed the craving.
