Unpacking Identity & Belonging: A Deeper Look at "Return to Seoul"

How a film about a birth family reunion sheds light on the complex emotions of the main character—the adoptee—who is often overlooked in these narratives.

*WARNING: The following post reveals spoilers for the movie "Return to Seoul."

Photo by Sava Bobo on Unsplash

I've been wanting to see the film “Return to Seoul” for quite some time now, and I finally got a chance to watch it last week. It’s about a 25-year-old, French-Korean adoptee woman named Frédérique “Freddie” Benoît, who finds her birth parents during an impulsive first trip to Korea. The plot piqued both my interest and skepticism, and I was curious to see how a fictional portrayal of an adoptee reuniting with her birth parents compared to reality. While watching it, it emotionally brought me back to my own search and return to Korea in 2016, but I found myself relating to and being most intrigued by Freddie’s character.

Freddie arrives to Seoul not knowing anything about her birth country but she doesn’t seem to care; on her first night, she shuns traditional customs such as allowing others to pour her soju as she defiantly pours her own glass, and dismisses a comment someone says about her classic Korean face. Her new Korean friends ask her if she plans to search for her birth parents while she's there. Instead of answering, she makes a remark that implies she used to play the piano. She then hops over to the next table to join a group of young men who are drinking, and goes home with one of them at the end of the night.

For the most part, I feel the film is an authentic depiction of an adoptee reconnecting with her biological family, but there is one scene that seems far-fetched. Despite her blasé attitude about her roots, Freddie visits an adoption agency the next day. All she has is a photograph of herself as a baby and her birth mother, and no adoption file (background information that an adoption agency has for every adoptee) or knowledge of her birth name. Despite this, the adoption agency is still able to locate her parents right away, based on her birth father’s social security number that was on the back of the photo.

While I’m not saying that couldn’t happen in real life, most adoptees don’t just travel to Seoul on a whim, find their birth parents based on a single photo, and reunite with them the next day. In reality, a birth parent search can be a long, arduous process, spanning months or years, and it is uncommon for adoptees to successfully locate them. I share my own prolonged search in my memoir, providing a glimpse into the reality of the experience. (It is important to note that I have little knowledge of domestic adoptions, and am only referring to international adoptions). However, each search and reunion experience is unique and complex for every adoptee. I read a news article not long ago about an Australian-Korean adoptee who spent years trying to locate his birth mother, and involved DNA tests and government support. When his adoption agency finally managed to contact her, the birth mother denied ever being pregnant and requested no further contact. The adoptee still returned to Korea, but despite further attempts to reach out to her, he was never able to reunite with his birth mother.

In Freddie's case, the adoption agency sends separate telegrams to her birth parents to let them know she is trying to contact them. Her birth mother remains unresponsive, but her birth father quickly responds and agrees to see her. Upon meeting him, Freddie discovers he has remarried and has two other daughters. Their reunion is tense and awkward, portraying the reality that reconnecting with a birth family isn't always filled with tears and hugs, as one might assume. In another relatable moment, Freddie is on the phone with her adoptive French mother who expresses disappointment that she went to Korea without her. The film doesn’t delve into Freddie’s relationship with her adoptive family, but some adoptees may lack understanding or support from their adoptive parents during a birth parent search, which can add another frustrating layer to our emotional journeys.

The film follows Freddie’s return to Korea several times over an eight-year period as well as her friendships and romantic relationships, all of which seem fleeting. She could be cruel at times—“I could wipe you from my life with a snap of my fingers” she says to her French boyfriend in one scene, who had traveled from France with her to Seoul—and callous and unresponsive to her birth father’s deep remorse and efforts to build a relationship. In another scene at a bar, she harshly rejects a man after he professes his love for her, and flirts instead with the DJ in front of him to request the song “Anybody” by Jérémie Arcache & Christophe Musset (which I’ve been listening on repeat since first hearing it), as she proceeds to defiantly dance and sway to the synthesized beat and lyrics “I never needed anybody, anybody.”

Freddie is a complex character that make her difficult to like at times, but as an adoptee, I could also empathize with her behavior. Adoptees experience loss from the moment we become separated from our birth parents, which can be exacerbated with feelings of rejection, grief and confusion about our identities. Subsequently, “adoptees, as adults, may find themselves staying in unhealthy relationships or may avoid intimate relationships altogether in order to avoid potential loss.”[1] Despite her tough exterior, Freddie is simply terrified of being rejected. While there aren't many studies on adoption and its impact on adult relationships, I can attest that it definitely does play a factor for some, and I describe my own experiences in my book. I felt as if I was watching my younger self on the screen at certain moments, finding more comfort in fleeting connections than genuine relationships, and pushing people away before being left or rejected.

After multiple telegrams, Freddie’s birth mother finally responds and agrees to meet her. When they reunite, Freddie breaks down and sobs, revealing the deep-seated grief and longing that she has harbored for so many years. Director Davy Chou opted not to show their interaction or the birth mother’s face, perhaps to emphasize her nonexistence in Freddie’s life. Another year passes, and Freddie is shown backpacking alone in a rural countryside and checking in to an inn. She emails her mother, typing that “she is sorry that she didn’t write,” but the email bounces back as an invalid recipient. Given her passive reaction, this was probably what she had feared and expected all along. Rejection and undesired outcomes are realities that adoptees may potentially face during their search for identity and connection. The experience may leave us feeling more isolated than ever before, but it also reveals our resilience and growth. Despite her fears, Freddie's capacity to embrace vulnerability was also the most genuine and redeeming quality of her character. In a sense, the experience provides her with closure, which is ultimately what many of us strive for in the end. Before departing the inn, Freddie sits down at the piano that she noticed earlier in the lobby and begins to play once more.

[1] https://www.adoptivefamilies.com/talking-about-adoption/adoptees-seven-core-issues-of-adoption/

#returntoseoulmovie #birthfamilyreunion #birthparentreunion #seoul #southkoreaadoption #koreaadoption #adopteejourney #adopteevoices #adopteestories

Have a question about the birth parent search or reunion journey, or have an experience you'd like to share? Comment below!