The Isle (2000): A Visceral Dive into Silence, Chaos, and Survival

Published April 16, 2025

A Film That Crossed the Line—Literally and Figuratively

Kim Ki-duk’s The Isle isn’t just a movie—it’s a test of endurance. Banned in multiple countries, the film gained notoriety for its explicit sexual content, graphic nudity, and violent scenes, including one where internal organs are pulled out of a still-living person. At its Venice Film Festival screening, it was reported that audience members fainted or vomited from the intensity of what they saw. Naturally, that kind of reaction only piques more curiosity.

Plot Summary: Silence, Routine, and Disruption

The story revolves around Hee-jin, a mute woman who manages a quiet fishing resort.

Guests rent floating cottages, and Hee-jin takes them to and from the cabins by boat. Aside from being a caretaker, she also acts as a middleman for sex workers—and sometimes offers herself with a chilling emotional detachment.

Their toxic, obsessive relationship becomes the catalyst for a series of disturbing and emotionally raw events. Kim’s arrival disrupts the delicate balance Hee-jin has created, forcing her to choose between the silence she’s known and the chaos he brings.

The Metaphor of Fishing

Fishing in this film is more than just a backdrop—it’s a metaphor. Just like fish lured by bait, the characters are drawn by desire and need, even when they know it will destroy them. It’s a commentary on human nature: we chase what we want, fully aware it might be our undoing.

Visuals and Direction: Raw, Quiet, and Haunting

Kim Ki-duk is known for minimalism. Dialogue is scarce, allowing silence and cinematography to carry the emotional weight. The film harks back to the silent movie era, where storytelling relied on visuals, not words.

There’s no flashy camerawork or stylized effects here. Instead, the natural setting—a foggy lake, floating cottages, and gray skies—becomes a character in itself. It’s haunting, raw, and strangely beautiful.

Explicit but Purposeful

While the film contains disturbing sexual and violent scenes, none of them feel gratuitous. Unlike movies where such content is excessive and drawn out, The Isle uses these moments to develop its story and characters. Everything serves a purpose. It’s uncomfortable, but it’s not mindless shock value.

The Controversial Scene That Crossed a Line

One moment, however, is difficult to defend. A scene involving real harm to a dog was confirmed by the director to be genuine.
This revelation understandably sparked backlash. While some argue it added realism or weight to the story, many agree it crossed an ethical boundary.

Animals cannot consent, and using real violence for cinematic impact raises uncomfortable questions about artistic responsibility.

To Watch or Not to Watch?

That depends on your threshold for discomfort.

If you’re drawn to raw, experimental cinema that doesn’t shy away from the darker parts of the human experience, The Isle might be worth your time. But if you’re sensitive to animal cruelty or extreme imagery, this film is likely not for you.

Does Art Serve Itself or the World?

The Isle reignites a long-standing debate—should art be judged solely on artistic merit, or does it have a responsibility to the world it reflects? Kim Ki-duk doesn’t offer an answer. He simply tells the story, and leaves the audience to decide what to take from it.

In the end, The Isle is a brutal, beautiful, and polarizing film—one that’s hard to forget, for better or worse.