Korea's nearly superhuman 'Sea Women' will take your breath away
The documentary focuses on haenyeo, Korean “sea women” who harvest sea urchin and abalone (among other things), largely off the shore of Jeju Island. Most of them are in their 70s or older and have been working for decades
In recent years, Malala Yousafzai, the activist who won a Nobel Peace Prize as a teenager, has been forging a career in Hollywood. She already executive produced an Oscar-nominated short, and now she lends her international star power to the feature length documentary, The Last of the Sea Women, releasing Friday on Apple TV+.
Yousafzai's name carries a level of import and seriousness that could suggest that this film is the kind of project you should watch even if it's not one you necessarily want to watch. But the Sue Kim-directed documentary feels more like easy extra credit than homework. It's a visually stunning portrait of a group of funny, passionate women. Yes, it could stand to be a little more rigorous, but it's a breezy introduction to a fascinating world.
The documentary focuses on haenyeo, Korean "sea women" who harvest sea urchin and abalone (among other things), largely off the shore of Jeju Island. Most of them are in their 70s or older and have been working for decades. Every day they pull on wetsuits and dive into the ocean's depths without oxygen tanks. It's a dangerous gig—haenyeo aren't covered by health insurance because the risk is too high—but it's a calling for these tough elderly broads, who are keenly aware that they are a dwindling breed.
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While there are attempts to preserve haenyeo culture, which is recognized by Unesco, there are multiple forces conspiring to limit their numbers. Despite the existence of a haenyeo school on Jeju, younger women aren't as drawn to the profession, which is also subject to the effects of climate change. (The haenyeo have a front row seat to the way the changing temperature is harmful to sea life: As the water warms, their catch thins.)
Much of the early portion of Kim's film is spent giving a broad overview of these women and their work. The cameras follow them underwater as they use tools to pry shellfish out of rocks, creating beautiful sequences of bodies in motion contending with the elements. On dry land they tease each other and gab as they remove the meat from sea urchins' spindly exteriors. Kim focuses on a couple of women in particular; it's fun to spend time in their company, even if their biographies are frustratingly underdeveloped. We never really get to know them outside of their jobs.
That's because Kim wants to cover a lot of territory in an under-90 minute runtime. Soon, she shifts focus to Geoje Island, about an hour's flight away off the coast of Busan, where Sohee Jin and Jeongmin Woo are 30-somethings keeping the haenyeo tradition alive with active social media feeds. (They do TikTok dances, which offer a delightfully different angle on the trade.)
Later, the director finds short-lived momentum in the news that Japan plans to dump contaminated water from the Fukushima power plant into the sea, a choice that will further threaten the haenyeo way of life. The radioactive water could not only decimate the creatures that the haenyeo collect, but could also pose a health risk to the haenyeo themselves who routinely swallow water as they dive.
Although the impending Fukushima discharge gives The Last of the Sea Women something of a plot, its introduction comes too late to give it much force, and simultaneously makes the narrative feel a little stagnant. Once nuclear contamination enters the picture, the focus understandably shifts from the haenyeo and their lifestyles and towards global politics. From the bucolic coast, we then follow one of the women, 72-year-old Soon Deok Jang, as she heads to Switzerland to speak before the Human Rights Council. Instead of the intriguing landscapes of Jeju or Geoje, the action becomes confined to stale conference rooms.
Meanwhile, Kim leaves other questions about the haenyeo lifestyle unanswered. The economics of the business are left vague, even though it seems like there is still a marketplace for the goods they collect. Kim introduces a 90-year-old haenyeo named Geum Ok Lee almost at the end of the film, but never really offers a look at how she is still able to perform physical feats most humans cannot.
Still, even though it sometimes feels like The Last of the Sea Women is treading water, it's still largely a pleasure. When the documentary is at its best it has a comforting air, even with the environmental anxieties that hang over the action. Most important, it's easy, charming viewing: Just let yourself get swept away by the majesty of the ocean and the nearly superhuman women who explore its depths.
