Big Deal Review: Two Men, One Company, and the Cost of Ambition

The story of Big Deal builds itself upon a moment of national economic trauma, a setting that immediately provides a fertile ground for drama. It is 1997, and the Asian financial crisis is sending shockwaves through South Korea, shaking even the most established institutions.

Among them is Gukbo, the country’s leading soju producer, a company whose ubiquitous green bottles are deeply woven into the nation’s social fabric. Its potential collapse is more than a line item on a balance sheet; it represents a crisis of cultural identity. Into this precarious environment steps Choi In-beom (Lee Je-hoon), a young, sharp, Korean-born associate from a formidable global investment firm.

He returns to his homeland after a decade away, embodying a new, ruthless form of global capitalism. He arrives armed with a complex plan and a reassuring smile, positioning himself as a savior. His direct counterpart is Pyo Jong-rok (Yoo Hae-jin), a Gukbo executive of twenty years whose entire professional life and sense of self are inseparable from the company he serves.

He is a diligent, earnest company man, perhaps the last true believer in a crumbling institution. The narrative engine ignites the moment their paths cross, for In-beom’s mission is a masterclass in corporate deception: he is not there to help Gukbo, but to orchestrate its hostile takeover from within. This initial setup establishes a tense and compelling conflict of ideals, allegiances, and the very definition of value.

The Engine of Conflict

At its heart, the film’s narrative architecture rests almost entirely on the complex, evolving dynamic between its two leads. The screenplay wisely anchors itself in their relationship, making it the lens through which all thematic concerns are viewed.

Pyo Jong-rok is constructed as the story’s unwavering moral compass, a man whose steadfast loyalty is simultaneously his defining virtue and his critical vulnerability. The veteran actor Yoo Hae-jin, a master of conveying earthy authenticity, imbues him with a palpable earnestness. Through subtle shifts in expression, he communicates the deep, quiet pain of a man who has sacrificed his family life for a corporation that may not be worthy of his devotion.

Opposite him stands Choi In-beom, a character engineered to represent a generation shaped by ambition and a detached, clinical view of capital. Lee Je-hoon portrays him skillfully as a smarmy operator whose polished, Westernized exterior begins to crack as he is drawn into Jong-rok’s world of tradition and integrity.

Their evolving bond—shifting from a feigned mentorship built over countless bottles of soju to a bitter rivalry across a boardroom—powers the film through its dense talk of bonds and creditors. The script tests this relationship with a pivotal dramatic turn designed to trigger In-beom’s remorse. However, his subsequent and frequent shifts in allegiance feel less like a complex internal struggle and more like a narrative wavering, a structural indecisiveness that prevents his arc from achieving the resonance it aims for.

Cracks in the Corporate Façade

When the story moves its focus beyond its central pairing, its structural integrity begins to show significant weaknesses. The mechanics of the hostile takeover and the ensuing legal battles are presented with a slick energy intended to create a thrilling pace, yet the plot sometimes becomes a tangled web of alliances that are made, broken, and then inexplicably remade with dizzying frequency. This overcomplicates the narrative without adding genuine depth.

The screenplay’s most significant shortcoming, however, is its construction of the antagonists, who feel less like fully realized characters and more like simple personifications of corporate greed. In-beom’s boss, Gordon (Byron Mann), is a glaring caricature of a villainous executive. His performance is defined by a permanent, smarmy grin and a curiously intense dedication to using the f-word in every possible sentence, as if profanity were a substitute for personality.

This lack of subtlety makes him an ineffective source of menace. Similarly, Gukbo’s own CEO (Son Hyun-joo) is a paper-thin obstacle, a petulant heir whose frustration is communicated mainly through the aggressive flipping of his mobile phone. This reliance on shallow characterization flattens the external conflict, forcing the two leads to carry the entire thematic weight of the story and leaving one to wonder what a more formidable set of adversaries might have brought to the drama.

Blueprints for a Moral Economy

As a directorial debut, Choi Yun-jin’s work demonstrates an assured hand and an arresting visual sense that elevates the material. The film moves at a brisk pace, a welcome restraint in a genre that can often get bogged down in needless exposition and financial jargon.

The aesthetic smartly contrasts the cold, sleek interiors of global finance with the warmer, more grounded world of Gukbo. However, certain stylistic choices create an unintended friction. The frequent use of English dialogue, while logical for these international characters, often comes across as phonetic and stilted. It’s a small but persistent detail that can break the narrative immersion, reminding us we are watching actors delivering lines in a language not entirely their own.

This is balanced by well-placed moments of levity, like the comedic soju taste-testing scenes, that effectively humanize the central relationship. The film’s core thematic argument—a collision between traditional, people-first loyalty and a ruthless, modern financial machine—is its strongest asset.

This conflict culminates in a surprisingly low-key ending and a sentimental post-credits coda that provides a clear, if a bit too neat, statement on the path to happiness. Ultimately, it is a story about the human element fighting for air inside the cold calculus of business.

Big Deal premiered theatrically in South Korea on May 30, 2025, and grossed approximately US $1.84 million overseas . The film is currently playing in Korean cinemas and may be released internationally via select distributors once its domestic run ends.

Full Credits

Director: Yun‑Jin Choi

Cast: Yoo Hae‑jin, Lee Je‑hoon, Choi Young‑joon, Son Hyeon‑ju