Take Care of My Cat

In the bleak, industrial harbor city of Incheon, five young women stand at the threshold of adulthood, each confronting a distinct struggle to define themselves beyond high school and the expectations that follow.

Hae-joo [not linked here] tries to break into a Seoul brokerage firm, but the reality of the workplace feels distant and unforgiving. She finds herself at the bottom of the hierarchy, constantly running errands—faxes, coffee, and small tasks that keep the office humming—while calculating how to make herself indispensable. The daily grind pushes her to pool every available asset, from her appearance to her demeanor, in an effort to be noticed in a system that prizes seniority and conformity over initiative.

Tae-hee [Bae Doona] is navigating a different kind of ceiling. She works without pay at her family’s sauna and also volunteers as a typist for a poet with cerebral palsy, all while dreaming of escaping the rigid, heteronormative expectations of a comfortably middle-class upbringing. Her longing for freedom pushes her toward ferry terminals and a fascination with foreign migrant workers, places where she imagines a broader world beyond the confines of home. This yearning sits in quiet contrast to the ridicule or indifference she often encounters from those around her, fueling a sense that belonging might lie beyond the boundaries of her current life.

Ji-young [Ok Ji-young] is wrestling with immediate practical needs—finding steady work to support herself and her aging grandparents, all while living in a dilapidated house that bears the weight of time. The household is crowded with a grandmother and a kitten named Teetee, and the looming threat of a collapsing roof makes daily life feel precarious. Without parents to vouch for her, without computer skills or a driver’s license, Ji-young drifts from one low-wage job to another, adding stress to a life already stretched thin by poverty and responsibility.

Bi-ryu [Lee Eun-sil] and Ohn-jo [Lee Eun-ju] live on their own in an ethnic Chinese enclave of Incheon, selling handmade jewelry to make ends meet. Their grandparents, who speak Chinese, have disowned their mother and refuse to see them, a rift not explained in detail but clearly shaping how the twins navigate the world around them. The sisters’ independence is hard-won, and their small terrarium of a life is defined by grit, resourcefulness, and a stubborn sense of self.

The film gradually traces how the paths of these two friends, Hae-joo and Ji-young, diverge as their circumstances pull them in different directions. Once close in high school, their friendship frays under the pressure of class, opportunity, and the open wound of poverty. After a sleepover at the twins’ house, Ji-young returns to a home shattered by a collapsed roof, a tragedy that claims her grandparents and leaves her isolated from formal support. Refusing to cooperate with the police investigation and facing a system that often fails people like her, Ji-young is detained in a juvenile facility, a detour that only deepens her sense of abandonment.

Tae-hee’s bond with Ji-young intensifies as she visits her in detention, offering quiet companionship and a reminder of their shared hunger for a life with less fear and more possibility. Ji-young reveals to Tae-hee that she truly has nowhere to go if she were released, a confession that sharpens the film’s focus on vulnerability, resilience, and the stubborn hope that threads through their lives.

When Ji-young is eventually released, Tae-hee is waiting with a suitcase packed for a journey—she has run away from her own family, taking back the money she was owed for a year of unpaid labor. The two women contemplate a path that could take them far from their current constraints, perhaps on a Working Holiday, a plan they had sketched out earlier. The story culminates at Incheon International Airport, where the two stand on the cusp of departure, choosing an uncertain future over the safety of the known, signaling a move toward self-determination, connection, and the endless possibilities that lie beyond the city they call home.

Last Updated: October 09, 2025 at 16:39