Eun-hee spends most of House of Hummingbird getting looked past — by her parents, her teachers, and a boyfriend who can barely be bothered. Her brother skips the passive aggression and goes straight for his fists. The film builds its whole case out of that neglect, one small unremarked moment at a time.
It sounds like it should be dull. Somehow it isn't. Park Ji-hu carries the film almost entirely through her face: a flicker here, a pause there, and you know exactly what's landed and what hasn't. Kim Sae-byuk turns up as a tutor who finally sees her, and their scenes together are the warmest thing here, no violins required.
Set in Seoul in 1994, with history rumbling away in the background, it earns its ending by simply taking its time. I spent the first half hour keeping the film at a polite distance, and the second half wondering when it had got so close.
It's patient, occasionally testing, and it makes good on every minute it asks for.