Readers Write In #748: Exhuma: An Atmospheric Cure for the Jaded Horror Film Viewer
- Trinity Auditorium

- Oct 26, 2024
- 4 min read
By karzzexped
Introduction: A Departure from Traditional Horror
There’s something about the traditional horror genre that has never piqued my interest. The over-reliance on jump scares, ghosts with laughable prosthetics, and blaring sound effects usually meant that I simply got jolted out of my seat, rather than genuinely terrified. There have been exceptions, such as The Conjuring, which belonged to the traditional horror genre but built its suspense organically, or Hereditary, which disguised its true intentions as a depressing dysfunctional family drama while using horror as an allegorical device. Aside from these, there have always been minor saving graces, but nothing that truly made me stand up and take notice. So when I heard great things about Exhuma, a film that promised atmospheric tension and psychological horror, I knew I had to give it a try.
Setting the Tone: Ghostbusters of Different Worlds
What Exhuma (short for “Exhumation”) does well—right from the outset—is setting the tone without urgency. The movie introduces two sets of duos who, in their own way, help clients deal with haunted pasts. Each duo approaches the supernatural differently, and this contrast, both ideological and generational, unfolds neatly. Through the voiceovers of each leader, we quickly grasp how each group approaches their clients: one adopts a cold, distant stance, while the other employs a warmer, more empathetic approach.
On one side, we have a duo who follow traditional shamanic rituals, portrayed brilliantly by Kim Go-eun and Lee Do-hyun. Go-eun underplays her role for much of the film, only exploding when her shamanic rituals demand it, while Lee Do-hyun remains consistent, excelling in the film’s later stages. These are young, corporate ghostbusters—ruthless and efficient—who travel in business class and cater exclusively to the top 1%.

Contrasting them is the duo led by the legendary Choi Min-sik, playing a geomancer—a specialist in Feng Shui-like practices focused on solving issues related to the buried. If the shamanic duo deals with the ethereal, then the geomancers deal with the earthly. Choi Min-sik is in top form here, bringing a deadpan, gruff aura on screen. His assistant, played by Yoo Hae-jin, provides much-needed comic relief, keeping the tension from becoming overwhelming.
A Familiar Plot with Unfamiliar Execution
The core of the story revolves around these two groups teaming up to solve a case for a family haunted by both their ancestor and his ancestral deeds. While the movie takes a fairly predictable path at first, with the family not being entirely truthful and the reluctant geomancer inevitably getting pulled deeper into the mystery, it’s the execution that keeps viewers engaged.
Shot by Lee Mo-gae, who also worked on I Saw the Devil, the film excels in creating a mood that is strikingly atmospheric. The grave, bordering North Korea, becomes an eerie presence in its own right. The stark, isolated setting amplifies the sense of dread and entrapment that pervades the entire film. Equally impressive is the sound design. The film knows when to use silence, and when it does, it’s deafening. The score is ominous but subtle, rhythmic yet discomforting, woven with tribal sound effects that heighten the tension. Every creak and whisper feels deliberate, creating an immersive experience that pulls you deeper into the story.
A Surprising Shift: From Horror to Detective Thriller
Once the story reaches its midpoint, the expected horror narrative pivots into something else entirely—a slow-burn, twisted detective thriller. The film ditches typical scare tactics in favor of a more cerebral, unsettling exploration of the unknown. This shift leaves viewers asking, “What now?” and from that point on, the film continues to surprise with its unique storytelling choices.
For instance, the prosthetic monster central to the mystery doesn’t appear in the way you’d expect. Instead of being a cheap horror gimmick, it feels more like something from a nightmare than a standard horror scene. It’s terrifying in the same way the monster from Barbarian was—designed not to shock, but to disturb. And, like Barbarian, Exhuma makes us question whether humans are bigger monsters than the creatures they fear.
Themes of Colonialism and Class
Beyond its supernatural elements, Exhuma delves into deeper themes, particularly colonialism and class. There’s a haunting reflection on how past atrocities continue to ripple through generations. The ghosts in Exhuma aren’t just spirits; they symbolize the lingering damage inflicted by history, particularly war crimes and the detritus of colonial rule. There’s a cloud of collective trauma hovering over the characters, which adds a layer of horror that feels very real in an unreal setting.
This thematic depth calls to mind The Wailing, another critically acclaimed Korean film that uses shamanism and spirituality as central narrative elements. However, where The Wailing focuses on man’s struggle with faith in the face of external evil, Exhuma is more introspective, examining how historical trauma continues to haunt the present. Both films share a slow-burn approach to horror, but Exhuma offers a refreshing take that feels more intimate in its storytelling. If you enjoyed The Wailing, Exhuma will likely resonate with you as well, albeit for different reasons.
Minor Criticisms: A Stretched Third Act
Despite its many strengths, Exhuma does have its shortcomings. The third act feels a little overstretched, even for a fan of slow-burn horror like myself. While the deliberate pacing works for most of the film, the final portion feels unnecessarily prolonged. Additionally, the introduction of the female shaman’s grandmother as a guardian angel figure feels like a convenient plot device that detracts from the otherwise grounded narrative.
For non-Korean viewers like myself, the Buddhist and Taoist religious motifs, while fascinating, can be hard to fully grasp on a first viewing. It took me a second watch to fully appreciate these subtleties, which may have been Jang Jae-hyun’s intention, but it could make the film slightly less accessible to international audiences.
Conclusion: A Unique Take on Atmospheric Horror
Despite its minor flaws, Exhuma is a rare atmospheric horror film that gets it right. The film’s final moments offer a poignant revelation: while the protagonists may have been helping a family escape their haunted past, they unwittingly form a new family along the way. If you’ve been craving a horror film that chills you without resorting to the usual genre clichés, Exhuma comes as a breath of fresh air—even if its ghosts are buried deep beneath the weight of history.





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