Project Y ̣(2025)
October 25, 2025
In the restless pulse of Seoul, where neon lights wash over the forgotten and the broken, Project Y by director Lee Hwan is not just a crime film — it’s a cinematic manifesto about despair, rebellion, and the desperate yearning to live, to love, and to be free in a world that suffocates.

Known for his piercing portrayal of women trapped within moral decay, Lee Hwan transforms Project Y into something far beyond genre. Seoul itself becomes a living entity — seductive, exhausted, and cruelly indifferent.
With stark contrasts of light and shadow, of gold’s glimmer and blood’s red truth, the film captures the haunting beauty of neo-noir — where morality blurs, choices bleed, and survival is the only compass left.
Han So-hee as Mi-sun and Jeon Jong-seo as Do-kyung anchor the emotional gravity of the story. They are not radiant heroines — they are wounded souls, grasping for meaning amid ruin.
Mi-sun’s fragile grace hides a storm of defiance, while Do-kyung burns with rage against a world that denied her peace. Together, they plan to steal 8 billion won in black gold — not for greed, but to reclaim their right to exist.
Their chemistry is electric — a dangerous, tender, and tragic duet. Every glance, every breath feels like it could collapse the thin line between love and destruction.

Project Y becomes an artistic metaphor for a society that corners its women, forcing them to sin just to survive.
Lee Hwan doesn’t preach feminism — he bleeds it onto the screen. Through sweat, silence, and the metallic taste of violence, he whispers: “When the world won’t let women live by justice, they will live by instinct.”
The camera glides through smoky alleys and dim-lit corridors, reflecting despair across the faces of those who refuse to give up. Every pan and cut moves like a melancholic dance — a waltz of light and darkness.
The minimalist score merges with gasps and footsteps, crafting an atmosphere that’s as intimate as it is suffocating — where even silence screams.

Premiering at the Toronto International Film Festival 2025, Project Y has been hailed as a “Korean Bonnie and Clyde” — but far more introspective and feminine. This is not a story about crime; it is a requiem for those who have nothing left to lose.
Project Y is both dazzling and devastating — a film that lingers like the echo of a fading heartbeat. In its darkness lies an uncomfortable truth:
in a world drowning in shadows, hope itself may be the most dangerous crime of all.
