Movie Review: The Day After

The Day After *** ½ / *****

Directed by: Sang-soo Hong   

Written by: Sang-soo Hong.

Starring: Kim Minhee Kim (Song Areum), Kwon Haehyo (Kim Bongwan), Kim Saebyeok (Lee Changsook), Cho Yunhee (Song Haejoo).

 

Korean auteur Hong Sangsoo’s films are all seemingly a variation on a theme. He is among the most prolific directors currently working – he has 25 directing credits according to IMDB – when he only made his debut 21 years ago (he has three credits listed for 2017 alone). At their best, his films – all about romantic longing, and partnerships that often turn sour – slowly sneak up on you in ways you don’t quite realize until the film ends. His best film of those I’ve seen – Right Now, Wrong Then – uses a nifty storytelling trick, of essentially telling the same story twice, with minor variations, than lead to major differences in how things turn out. His films are deliberately low-key – and feel minor – but taken as part of a whole, they do end up feeling bigger that way. His latest, The Day After, feels minor even by his standards though – even if it does feel satisfying in its own way.

 

The biggest change in The Day After compared to other Hong movies is that the sad sack male protagonist in the film this time is not a film director – but rather both a critic, and the head of a small publishing firm. This is Bongwan (Kwon Haehyo) – who is married to Haejoo (Cho Yunhee) but has been having an affair with Changnook (Kim Saebyeok) for a while now. She was the publishing firms only other employee – but things ended badly recently, leaving him without a mistress or an assistant. This is when Areum (Hong favorite Kim Minhee) shows up to take the job. Most of the movie is the pair of them, sitting in a series of two shots, talking about life, faith, infidelity – as Bongwan, like many a Hong protagonist before him, gets drunk. Eventually, both his mistress and his wife will come in and have their own scenes with Areum and Bongwan.

 

The film is shot in beautiful black and white – not as beautiful as say Hong’s The Day He Arrives, with its snowy black and white streets, but beautiful in their own way. The film is simpler visually than many Hong films – it doesn’t even make too much use of his trademark zooms. The film gets great mileage out of the face of Kim Minhee – who is such a skilled, subtle actress (she can also play bigger, as her work in last year’s The Handmaiden proved all too well). She starts out admiring her new boss – a writer she admires – and cannot wait to work at this exciting new place. You can see her become slowly disillusioned throughout the film though, as his weaknesses and failing become all too clear to her. Bongwan, it becomes clear, is really rather a pathetic little character – a man who lives to be in his messy, book lined office – a place where he can command ultimate respect, and have ultimate power – if only because so few other people are around to question him. This becomes readily apparent in the film’s final scene – which, in classic Hong style, is a repeat of the first one – although set sometime later, where Areum shows back up at the office after some period of time and he doesn’t even remember her.

 

I admire directors how try and spread their wings – who go out there, and attempt something completely different each time out. But there’s something to be said for what Hong does, which is to make similar films, on the same scene, again and again – often repeating scenes in the same movie – and seemingly movie over movie. Most of the films of his that I have seen, I’ve seen in various formats of home viewing – I’ve only seen two of his films on the big screen – both at TIFF. There is a comfort to his films, even when they address some rather difficult subject matter. It’s interesting to see him find new ways – or not – of addressing the same issues. If Hong keeps on churning them out, I’ll keep on watching.

"Classic" Movie Review: Yourself & Yours

Yourself & Yours *** ½ / *****

Directed by: Sang-soo Hong.

Written by: Sang-soo Hong 

Starring: You-young Lee (Minjung), Kim Ju-Hyuck (Youngsoo).

 

The more films I see by Korean director Sang-soo Hong, the more I like his films. His last film, Right Now Wrong Then, is my favorite of his work so far – a film that he basically makes twice, with slight differences that completely changes our view on the characters and the events. To follow-up that film, he has made Yourself & Yours, a fascinating, amusing film that at first I thought was simply Hong playing around and having fun – and yet in the days since seeing the film, it has stuck with me more than I thought it would. It is a film that doesn’t really answer the question at its core – and is oddly stronger for it. That question is this: just how many Minjung’s are there in the film? 1, 2 or 3? And does the answer ultimately matter?

 

Like all of Hong’s film, it has a romantic (sometimes would be romantic) couple at its core. This time it’s Younsoo (Kim Ju-Hyuck), a young man who seems completely in love with his girlfriend, Minjung (You-young Lee) – until he starts to hear rumors about her. His friend tells him that he’s heard from others than Minjung likes to go out drinking with him – and when she does, she draws a lot of attention from other men. This information sends Youngsoo into a rage – and when he confronts Minjung with this information, she does not deny it forcefully enough to convince him. She storms out of his apartment, and tell him not to call her for a while. The film then follows the two lead actors after their separation – with Youngsoo regretting his actions, and trying to get back with Minjung - who seems to have disappeared, as he can never find her at work or home, and Minjung, as she seems to validate all those rumors about herself, as we do see her out drinking, numerous times, with different men. Yet, if she is ever confronted by anyone who knows Youngsoo – she acts as if she doesn’t know who they are, and that her name isn’t Minjung. Then late in the film, the first man we saw this Minjung with confronts another Minjung with another man (a filmmaker, of course, this being Hong someone has to be a filmmaker) – and again, she acts as if she doesn’t know him. It is this Minjung who will eventually come back to Youngsoo – but is she the same Minjung who left him in the first place?

 

The film is amusing to watch, as Minjung takes control of the narrative, and in many ways is the most honest character in the film – even if she is blatantly lying at times (if she is just one person, she lies constantly). Yet, the thesis of the movie may well be her line she tells to one of her boyfriend’s “I’ve never met a truly impressive man”. The line draws a laugh when she says – as does that entire scene, as she is breaking up with him so honestly and brightly that it almost seems cruel. Yet, by the end of the film, she may have found that man in Youngsoo – who because of their time apart actually has grown, and become, at least less of a fool than when the movie begins. The film may ultimately be about how we can never really know another person – that what makes them themselves is something that is only known to themselves alone – but at the end of the film, Youngsoo is smart enough to at least realize this.

 

Ultimately, I’m not sure Yourself & Yours rises to the level of Hong’s best work – I still prefer Right Now, Wrong Then and The Day He Arrives (although, admittedly, Hong has been one of the most prolific directors in world cinema, and he has a large back catalogue of films I haven’t seen) – but it’s more impressive than it first appeared to be. It’s made with his trademark style – lots of long, unmoving, unbroken shots, frequent zoom-ins, and lots of drinking (although, this time it’s beer not soju – the significance of the difference, and I’m sure there is one, is lost on me). Yet he pushes the film into some very interesting territory. The more films of his I see, the more films I want to see.

 

Note: I saw this film at TIFF 2016 and wrote this review then. The film still hasn’t come out in North America since – and at this point, probably won’t, so rather than sit on the review, I thought I’d post it.

Movie Review: Right Now, Wrong Then

Right Now, Wrong Then

Directed by: Sang-soo Hong.

Written by: Sang-soo Hong.

Starring: Jae-yeong Jeong (Ham Cheon-soo), Min-hee Kim (Yoon Hee-jeong).

 

Korean director Hong Sang-soo is one of the most prolific directors around – Right Now, Wrong Then is his 17^th feature in just a 20 year career so far. I’m hardly a Hong expert – I’ve only seen a handful of his films – but I know enough to get why those who love his work do so, and why those who think he makes the same film over and over again, say that as well. That criticism is more or less true – much like it was for Eric Rohmer, one of Hong’s biggest influences. In a Hong film, you will almost assuredly have two people meeting – the man almost always a film director, the woman a local in a town that director is visiting an is unfamiliar with – and through the course of a long day, a lot of drinking and talking will be done, and things are not destined to work out for the couple. Hong doesn’t really make movies about the beginning of a long term love affair – instead, he usually makes films about those missed opportunities – those brief encounters you’ll remember forever, even though they only lasted a few hours.

 

Out of the Hong films I have seen, his latest, Right Now, Wrong Then is far an away my favorite. It’s really two films, or perhaps more accurately, two different versions of the same film – which resets after an hour with the two main characters, and tells the same story again – although this time with some differences. Sometimes those differences are subtle – the same words being spoken, with different vocal inflections for instance, as which happens with the first time director Ham (Jae-yeong Jeong) meets a young woman named He-jeong (Min-hee Kim). In the first meeting, she seems to be flirting with the director – who is clearly flirting with her. In the second, she seems almost standoffish – that this man is bothering her, but she’s too polite to say that (and he seems oblivious). It would be too simple, I think, to describe these two halves as first his perspective, and then hers – because Hong gives no indication that is the case here. Instead, he’s doing something trickier – showing how the exact same two people can meet twice, and then have things go in different directions. The first one ends in anger, the second in melancholy for what might have been. For all the differences between the two segments, it’s really a question as to whether or not the director lies which determines the course of the film.

 

The film is clearly Hong’s from the outset – it has his trademark long shots, and many zooms (he’s one of the only filmmakers using zooms this way, and given how effective it is, you have to wonder why more don’t do it). In a Hong film, small gestures are important, and they are really important here as well – more so than normal, given that the differences between the two segments are part of the point of the movie, and some of them are tough to spot.

 

In the first segment, Ham is a liar, who is also clearly trying to pick Hee-jeong up. He flatters her about her artwork, tells her how pretty she is, gets her drunk – all before he reveals he is a liar, in a way that I don’t think he realizes. The segment ends the next day at the film festival, where he is presenting his film, and giving a Q&A afterwards, and he is, to be blunt, a jerk. In the second segment, Hee-jeong is more in control of herself – more purposeful and confident. And, for his part, Ham is much more honest – this leads to an incredibly awkward moment where he criticizes her art, but it’s a real moment. He also doesn’t lie about the thing that get her really angry in the first part. The film ends, again, at the film festival – but on a sadder, less angry note. You don’t much like Ham in the first half – and Hee-jeong seems too much adrift. In the second part, you like both of them. The performances by the two leads are hugely important in this film – and it also shows growth for Hong, who in the past could be accused of having really interesting male characters, and uninteresting female ones. That’s not true here.

 

Is Right Now, Wrong Then just a stylistic exercise though? An experiment that Hong is conducting just to see if he can? Is it a gimmick? To a certain extent, sure. But then again Christopher Nolan’s Memento is clearly a gimmick, as is Richard Linklater’s Boyhood – it’s how the filmmakers execute those gimmicks that matters. While Hong’s film is clearly not quite in that league, it’s a very good film – the best of his work I have seen.

Movie Review: In Another Country

In Another Country
Directed by: Sang-soo Hong.
Written by: Sang-soo Hong.
Starring: Isabelle Huppert (Anne), Yoo Jun-sang (Lifeguard), Kwon Hae-hyo (Jong-soo), Moon So-ri (Geum-hee), Moon Sung-keun (Moon-soo), Jung Yoo-mi (Won-ju), Yoon Yeo-jeong (Park Sook).

Sang-soo Hong is one of those filmmakers whose films pretty much only play at film festivals in North America. Eventually, his films achieve a cursory theatrical release over here – but if often takes time. In 2012, his 2010 film Oki’s Movie, his 2011 film The Day He Arrives and his 2012 film In Another Country all got released. They get praised in all those film magazines I read – like Film Comment – but until In Another Country, I had only seen one of his films (The Day He Arrives) – and quite liked it, so I was looking forward to seeing more of Sang-soo Hong’s work. I enjoyed In Another Country, but still it felt somewhat lacking. Is this what all the fuss was about?

In Another Country is really three films set in a small Korean town, all written by a young female screenwriter, and contains similar character in each, in similar situations. Isabelle Huppert stars in all three as a French woman on vacation – either a filmmaker scouting a location, a woman looking for a quiet place to resume her latest affair with a Korean man, or as a woman looking to get away from her latest divorce. In all three she meets a famous Korean director – and in a few, his wife – as well as a lifeguard. While the director seems to be a better match for her – both in terms of age and education level, she keeps coming back to the lifeguard.

The film is amusing while it is playing – not least because it reminds us that Huppert, who usually plays darker characters in heavy movies, can be a gifted comic actress in the right role. Here, playing a trio of neurotic characters, she is sweet and charming, even while she is making mistakes, which is often. She is the heart of the movie, and she carries it effortlessly.

 

The film itself seems to be built on miscommunication. Huppert doesn’t speak Korean, and the locals speak broken English at best, so she is never quite sure is happening, as the character speak around her, but very rarely directly to her. The one exception is the Yoo Jun-sang’s lifeguard character, He is much younger, but is seemingly the only character who takes her seriously – and is genuinely interested in her. The two could not be more mismatched, and that is almost their charm together. They are not unlike the couple at the heart of Lost in Translation, with the genders reversed. They may never quite fall in love, or even into bed, but they share a deeper connection.

I was amused by In Another Country. It reminded me of Woody Allen – especially something like Melinda and Melinda, where Allen experimented with telling the same story as both a comedy and a tragedy. Hong’s screenplay is simple, but funny, and the characters are well drawn. His direction needlessly calls attention to itself at times – strange zooms are prevalent throughout. But I certainly did enjoy the film. I’ve been reading about Hong for years now, and The Day He Arrives seemed to confirm, for me, his talent. In Another Country is a mildly amusing and diverting comedy – but perhaps I should still see some of his earlier films. Something tells me if he garnered all that praise, they had to be much better than this film.

Movie Review: The Day He Arrives

The Day He Arrives
Directed by: Sang-soo Hong.
Written by: Sang-soo Hong.
Starring: Jun-Sang Yu (Sungjoon), Sang Jung Kim (Youngho), Seon-mi Song (Boram), Bo-kyung Kim (Kyungjin / Yejeon).

Sang-soo Hong’s The Day He Arrives is a quietly moving film. In many ways, I suppose, it is autobiographical. It is about a filmmaker Sungjoon who returns to Seoul for a few days visit from his teaching post in the country. He directed four films, but apparently no one saw them, so he has taken up teaching. He has no plans while in the city except to visit his old friend Youngho, a movie critic. But he spends the first night alone, not being to get in contact with his old friend, and instead going drinking with a group of film students before confusing them by taking off on them. He then visits an old girlfriend, and begs forgiveness.

Finally, he will meet up with Youngho, and the rest of the movie plays like variations on a theme. In each, Sungjoon and Youngho go to a bar with Youngho’s attractive female friend Boram, a film professor, where they spend their time drinking while the owner is away. Eventually, the owner Yejeon, comes back – and Sungjoon is struck by how much she looks like that old girlfriend (since they are both played by the same actress, he’s right). But what happens in each of these variations changes slightly. They have similar discussions, but they take on different meanings as one character will say or do something different. Twice they will meet up with a former actor of Sungjoon’s – once he is angry with Sungjoon for abandoning him for a bigger star after their first movie, and one time he is a lovable, drunken oaf. In all of them, Boram seems to be attracted to Sungjoon, even though he thinks she should be with Youngho, and she flirts with him, oblivious to the fact that he is more drawn to the bartender. And the way Sungjoon expresses that attraction to the bartender – and the results – is also different each time.

The movie is both funny and sad. As with other films of Sang-soo Hong that I have seen (and I feel I should see more), the film is made up of a series of scenes where the characters drink and talk – and then go somewhere else to drink and talk some more. The film is shot in beautiful black and white, which gives an element of sadness to the proceedings. Sungjun seems lost and aimless. He has nowhere to go – either in Seoul or in his life – so he just keeps repeating his day ad nausea. The film students recall what he once was – young and idealistic – and while its fun to look back at that for a while, eventually he must flee. His relationship with his girlfriend is over – but he has to go back and revisit that as well. And then, when he meets the barmaid, who looks just like her, he must repeat the pattern all over again. Some people have criticized Sang-soo for simply remaking the same film over and over again – and I can’t help but think that The Day He Arrives is a slight shot at those critics, as he has made a film about a filmmaker who keeps living the same day, with slight variations again and again.

The movie is filled with Sungjoon’s longing for something more – something he will not discover, at least not during the film’s fleet 79 minute running time. At the end of the film, he’s still wandering around in circles, still melancholy, still doomed to repeat his mistakes again and again. The Day He Arrives is a deceptively simple little film.