Last Friday saw the wrapping up of the 29th Busan International Film Festival (BIFF), that electric time of the year when Korea's oft-neglected second city is temporarily transformed into the most glamorous spot on the peninsula. This year's fest was a resounding success, drawing industry folks, aficionados, media and festival organizers from across Asia and beyond for 10 days of movies, events, boozy soirees and enough schmoozing to power all of Los Angeles for a good month.

Chris Tharp poses on the red carpet of the Busan International Film Festival, Oct. 9. Courtesy of Chris Tharp

Running Oct. 2 to 11, BIFF 2024 featured 278 official selections and 633 screenings, drawing 145,238 spectators, up by 18 percent from last year's event. Anyone who has tried buying tickets to a BIFF screening can attest to this popularity, as many sell out within seconds, especially during opening weekend.

While frustrating, this can contribute to the festival's charm. Not getting into your first or even second choice can force you to take in a film that you never would have otherwise, which sometimes leads to pleasant surprises. Who knew a movie about a telepathic goat herder in Tajikistan could move you so deeply?

I missed this year's opener, "Uprising," which was co-written and produced by one-time Korean cinematic enfant terrible, Park Chan-wook. My lowly press pass did not allow me access to the screening, but it did get me through the door at the subsequent opening night party at Haeundae's Paradise Hotel, where, aside from relieving the hosts of multiple glasses of wine, I got to hobnob with the cool kids.

"I have eight films here," Portuguese director Miguel Gomes — winner of this year's best director award at Cannes — told The Korea Times. "It was not my decision, so if in the end it does not go right, it's not my fault."

While it was Gomes' first visit to BIFF, Israeli director Dani Rosenberg — who was attending the fest with his film, "Of Dogs and Men" — had been twice before, but ran into bad luck each time. "I was here last year for just one day," he said, "but then Oct. 7 happened and I had to go back to Israel. And my first film accepted to BIFF happened during COVID, so people could only watch it online."

The opening night bash set the tone for the days to follow, and the next night I found myself with a local crew sipping vino and dancing to a techno outfit in a sprawling waterpark at the surreal, but strangely fun Siwol party.

We then mobbed the Korean Film Council's Korean Film Night, where between grazing on the extensive buffet, handing out business cards and sculling cans of Korean lager, I had a close encounter with megastar (and local Busan hero) Song Kang-ho. Song is pretty much my favorite actor on the planet, and I felt my knees go wobbly in his divine presence. He thankfully had the good sense to flee before I could embarrass myself by babbling and gushing in an unfortunate mix of fevered English and sloppy Korean.

On Saturday, I poured myself back into the action. Entertainment dreadnought CJ was hosting Korean cinema royalty on the first floor of the Paradise Hotel, with a team of tall, earpiece-wearing, yoked-out security that looked like the president's personal detail. I chose instead to head up to the second floor and crash the French Night, which is always a highlight of the fest.

People pose for a photo at the French Night during the Busan International Film Festival, Oct. 5. Courtesy of Chris Tharp

As I popped outside for fresh air, I struck up a conversation with Thierry Jobin, the artistic director of the Fribourg Film Festival in Switzerland, which only screens works from Africa, Asia and Latin America. His enthusiasm for BIFF and Korean cinema in general proved to be infectious.

"When I was first nominated artistic director in Fribourg, I said to myself, where should I go now? Everyone said that Busan was the most important festival in Asia," he said.

"For me, Korea has the most inventive and perhaps best cinema in the world. They can do anything they want. They have something that I don't think even exists in Europe or the U.S. This is the possibility to create a movie that is a horror movie for five minutes, then it's a drama and then it's a comedy. It's over the top and wonderful."

Having depleted my social battery at a string of parties, by Sunday I was ready to watch some actual movies. As a lifelong traveler and travel writer, I tend to pick films that will transport me to a country or region I've longed to visit, and this year didn't disappoint.

People pack the seats for the 2024 Asia Contents Awards & Global OTT Awards at the Busan International Film Festival, Oct. 6. Courtesy of Chris Tharp

First up was India, with the lovely and lyrical coming-of-age film, "Village Rockstars 2." This movie brought me right into the fields and hamlets of far western Assam state, and I followed this up with two movies from the 'stans: "Deal at the Border," a story of drug smugglers in the mountains of Kyrgyzstan, and "Soldier of Love," an intimate musical set in Almaty, Kazakhstan, about an up-and-coming musician trying to balance marriage and fatherhood with his newfound fame.

I found myself back in the theater on Tuesday night, where I was lucky to catch the gripping and immersive "Anywhere Anytime." Directed by Milad Tangshir from Iran, this homage to the Italian classic "The Bicycle Thieves" is set in modern-day Turin, and deals with a Senegalese immigrant who is at risk of losing everything when the bike he uses for his food delivery job is stolen.

Next up was the Asian Short Film Competition 2. "The Black Dog," by talented Taiwanese newcomer Evelyn Yang, was the clear standout. This deeply felt, beautifully shot short focuses on a husband and his daughter as they confront the hard reality of inevitable loss.

Taiwanese guests, including the producer and director of photography for the short film "The Black Dog," pose together at the Busan International Film Festival, Oct. 9. Courtesy of Chris Tharp

Having recharged through a flurry of movies, I was ready to get back on the party horse. I hit the Asian Contents and Film Market function where I reconnected with a couple of old BIFF regulars, before falling in with Farkhat Sharipov, the Kazakhstani director who made "Soldier of Love." I had seen his film just two days before, and asked him about what made BIFF special.

"It's an awesome festival," he said. "It's well organized, and I can meet new people along with old friends. It's all about Asia, and the best thing is that the festival focuses on film debuts, which is exciting."

While I'd promised myself to get home early due the full slate of films I'd booked the next day, the prevailing tides washed me over to the Philippines' party, which is always a rip-roaring, down-to-earth affair. This year the event took over an entire pork barbecue restaurant, with the crowd spilling out onto the sidewalk, swapping stories, sharing drinks and soaking up the camaraderie that BIFF offers in spades.

Things went late, which means I regrettably missed my morning film (Ireland's buzzworthy "Kneecap," which I will see sooner than later). However, I did manage to catch a selection from my neck of the woods: the absurd "Sasquatch Sunset." As a cryptozoology enthusiast, I was excited for an earnest film about a bigfoot family, but in the end the movie proved to be an exercise in whimsy verging on silliness.

This was made up for by the stellar "Black Dog" — no relation to the short "The Black Dog" — a Chinese production about a desert town facing redevelopment, and the ex-con brought in to clear the burg of its feral dog population. The film is set in the summer of 2008 in the country's arid far west, which spoke to me, as I had happened to be there at the exact same time. The sweeping shots and Pink Floyd soundtrack once again pulled me back into a fascinating part of the world that I'd longed to taste again.

Transportation — this is the power of cinema, and something that BIFF does particularly well. Part of me is still wandering along the borders of those films that resonated with me. And once they fade away, I'll be ready to gird my liver, open my mind, summon my schmooze and do it all again next year.

Originally hailing from the Pacific Northwest in the U.S., Chris Tharp has called Korea home for nearly two decades now. He's a regular contributor to National Geographic Traveller (U.K.), and his award-winning writing has also appeared in CNN Travel, Condé Nast Traveler, The Telegraph, Fodor's, Asia Times and more. He lives in Busan with his wife and a houseful of animals. Visit substack.com/@christharp and christharp.journoportfolio.com for more information.