“I longed to dissolve into laughter, so I dissolve into tears instead.”

At its heart, People and Meat is a tender, beautiful story that you feel in your bones (pun intended).

The film follows three elderly people living on the margins of society through U-sik and Hyeon-jung, who sell scrapped cardboards for a living, and Hwa-jin who is a vegetable vendor. Abandoned by their families and barely earning enough to sustain themselves, the three form an unexpected bond over a deceptively simple desire: they want to eat meat.

In modern day Seoul, the price of beef is well beyond what they can afford, and it has been years since any of them have eaten properly. So, they hatch a plan to dine and dash at Korean barbecue restaurants across Seoul (but only the popular ones for they do not want to hurt small business). What begins as a small act of rebellion soon becomes the premise for a hearty comedy-drama about three typically upright, law-abiding citizens discovering thrill, companionship and pure, unadulterated joy in committing a minor crime just so they can share a good meal.

The performances by Park Geun-hyung, Jang Yong and Ye Soo-jung are beautiful, and their chemistry together is sizzling. There is never a dull moment when the three are on screen. As their friendship deepens, it becomes clear that what each of them truly needed was not merely a decent meal, but support and companionship. At one point, one of the characters reveals that he can no longer remember what his life felt like before they began their little schemes and that this might be the happiest he has ever been.

The writing is poetic but natural, gently exploring themes of abandonment, ageing and the feeling of reaching the edge of one’s life only to wonder whether any of it was worthwhile. The film makes you ask yourself—what ultimately makes a life well lived? Is it wealth, a beautifully constructed home, the circumstances of your death or the number of people who attend your funeral? Or can a life be measured by the impact you have had on the few people you did manage to touch?

The film begins on a lighthearted note, but there is a stark tonal pivot when one of the characters receives a call from an old friend. The friend reveals that he is starving himself to death because he wants to die peacefully, but asks for his friend to be with him as he does not want to be alone when the time comes. From there, the film begins to confront the question of what it means to age and die with dignity, and what happens when society discards older people the moment they are no longer considered productive or useful.

I think what moved me the most was realising that there is something particularly affecting about the modesty of the protagonists’ greatest desire. They do not dream of luxury or grand reinvention, rather their biggest desire is that they simply want to eat well. It is such an ordinary pleasure, and one that we so easily take for granted, but for them it means everything.

There are some profound questions embedded within this seemingly simple and lighthearted film. It forces you to ponder about loneliness, about the responsibilities we have towards the people who raised us and the right to choose the circumstances of one’s death. With its subtle supporting score, heartwarming performances and tender writing, the film invites you to sit with these ideas rather than forcing easy answers onto them. The writing occasionally ventures a tad bit into melodrama, but by that point you are so invested in the lives of these three characters that you barely notice.

People and Meat is a thoroughly moving watch as a movie that begins with the desire for a good meal and becomes a meditation on the basic human need to feel cared for, seen and remembered.

People and Meat is a part of the 2026 Sydney Film Festival, running from 3-14 June. Tickets are on sale now at sff.org.au