If you've watched any of the If You Were Me anthologies, then you already have a pretty good idea of what awaits in Fly, Penguin. This small and sincere ensemble drama is the first full-length feature produced by Korea's National Human Rights Commission, which has done an admirable job of exploring human rights and discrimination issues on film through the long-running If You Were Me short film series. Fly, Penguin covers less hot-button issues than the If You Were Me shorts, but it's no less effective at identifying and exploring significant societal and familial problems. By focusing on daily difficulties and familiar situations, Fly, Penguin actually connects with audiences even better than the If You Were Me entries.

Fly, Penguin is divided into four stories about an interconnected circle of normal, everyday people, not too different from you and me. And they all go home to problems not too different from yours and mine. At a typical office, there's a working mother (Moon So Ri) who spends so much time worrying about her child's education and future that she can't step back and let her overwhelmed son enjoy his childhood. There's a new worker (Choi Kyu Hwan) who sticks out at meals because he doesn't drink alcohol or eat meat, and soon he finds himself being mocked and ostracized by the other men in the office. There's the manager (Son Byung Ho) who sent his family abroad to give them a better life, and in return, what he gets is an empty house, estranged children, and a quietly deteriorating marriage. Finally, there's the manager's stubborn father (Park In Hwan) who's stuck on his ways and constantly criticizes his outgoing wife (Jeong Hye Sun), driving her to leave home and threaten divorce.

Fly, Penguin deals with marriage, family, and office relations in a realistic manner, without any cinematic conflict or melodrama. Director Lim Soon Rye milked populist emotions in her previous blockbuster Forever the Moment, but she applies a light hand to Fly, Penguin. Both the direction and camerawork are very unobtrusive in the film, letting lives unfold naturally through straightforward set pieces and dinner table conversations. Real life might not be all that exciting, but the film manages to be consistently engaging through believable characters, multiple storylines, and compelling dilemmas that appeal to empathetic audiences. Even if you don't share the exact same problems as the characters, you can still easily identify and commiserate with the situations presented in the film.

The film's title is a reference to Son Byung Ho's dilemma as the flightless father of a transnational, split-household family. In East Asia, many men send their children and spouses overseas, be it for education or emigration, and then stay behind in their home country to work and support the family. Those who fly back and forth occasionally to see the family are called "wild goose fathers" in Korea. And then there are the fathers who can't afford to fly and may go years without seeing the family he works so hard to support, the "penguin fathers". This image of the bird grounded by sober reality applies not only to Son Byung Ho's character, but also all the other characters whose wings are clipped by pressure, fatigue, and misunderstandings.

By laying out the stories together on screen, Fly, Penguin takes a positive and proactive attitude about these common, overbearing challenges faced by people on a daily basis. The film might not give flight to the grounded, but it succeeds in giving voice and identity to the humble penguin who waddles home everyday carrying unspoken burdens.