“Past Lives” is a meticulously crafted feature that is autobiographical in nature, naturalistic in style, and far-reaching in its resonance. The directorial debut of Korean-Canadian playwright Celine Song who is now based in the US, it premiered at Sundance early this year and subsequently was nominated for a Golden Berlin Bear at the 73rd Berlinale. Most recently on July 2, its accolades continued at the Hollywood Critics Association Midseason Awards winning Best Indie Film, Best Actress for Greta Lee and Best Screenplay for Song.
Nora (Greta Lee), immigrated to Canada from South Korea when she was twelve, following her parents’ decision. As a child, she has always been Na Young (Moon Seung-ah), now given a new name, Nora, by her father as they prepare to leave. Her departure severs a close tie with her childhood sweetheart Hae Sung (Seung Min Yim).
Twelve years later, Nora makes a move to New York City from Canada in pursuit of a career in writing, a decision this time of her own choosing. While there, she happens to come into contact with Hae Sung (Teo Too) online. The two meet again via texts and Skype but that connection is short-lived as Nora initiates a termination, for she wants to focus on her writing career and setting roots in her newly adopted home. Fast forward some more years, Hae Sung comes to New York in person to seek her out. Nora’s past thus re-emerges.
In a writer’s retreat, Nora meets Arthur (John Magaro) and they soon fall in love. When Hae Sung comes to New York, Nora has been married to Arthur for seven years. Despite being in a secure and loving marriage, Nora feels the conflicts of navigating between two men from the present and the past, as well as choosing a path for the future. ‘Yet knowing how way leads on to way’ as the poet Robert Frost poignantly utters, she laments the loss that comes with only one path to tread, one road to take.
While it may sound like a typical immigrant story–the ambivalence of losing and gaining as one makes decisions about leaving one’s homeland to start a new life in a foreign country–Nora’s narrative ripples out beyond the immigrant experience. We are all constrained by time and space. Somewhere in our life, we are bound to have left behind a part of ourselves, our childhood, our roots as we move forward to another stage of life.
In the opening bar scene where Nora sits in between her husband and her childhood sweetheart, she is the interpreter of two languages, navigating between cultures, and juggling two identities of self. Nora finds herself acting as an intermediary between two men who love her but in different ways and as a different persona, Nora and Na Young. This is a real-life scenario Song had once found herself in and which became the initial spark of the making of “Past Lives.”
Arthur is in an awkward situation. In one of the pivotal scenes, an intimate husband and wife conversation in bed, he tells Nora that she speaks Korean in her dreams, “there’s a part in you that I won’t be able to know.” That part is the first twelve years of Nora’s life where Arthur was absent and which Hae Sung longs to recapture. Arthur admits, “I can’t compete.” However, instead of handling the conflict as a clichéd love triangle, Song has turned it into a cinematic pondering of life choices, what one leaves behind and what one gains in a new chapter of life.
Magaro delivers a superb portrayal of the ambivalence in Arthur’s predicament. His screen presence and dialogues with Nora offer much clarity. As well, his is a character that has the power to elicit deep empathy from viewers, on top of adding some subtly humorous moments. I wish there is more of such screen time for this admirable role. Arthur’s mature love for Nora overrides any jealousy or traces of inferiority complex when Nora casually compares the two men, effectively shifting viewers’ attention from the reunion of childhood sweethearts to this third party, the loving and silent husband stepping aside to let his wife dwell on her past.
And Nora appreciates Arthur’s love, albeit it doesn’t eliminate the lament she feels about the loss of a former self. Having transplanted in New York City, she has gained a new cultural identity as a ‘Korean-American.’ After meeting Hae Sung again, she finds him firmly rooted as a ‘Korean-Korean.’ Song’s dialogues are astute. Lee’s screen presence is affable and nuanced, a pleasant character with whom viewers can readily empathize. Hae Sung seems to subscribe firmly in In-Yun, the Korean concept of predestined fate.
There is a recurring shot which speaks volume. A fork in the alley where young Hae Sung and Na Young walk home after school in Seoul. Two roads diverge. On the left is the boy continuing his way, on the right is his sweetheart, walking up the steps, two separate paths, two life trajectories. It’s not about taking the road less travelled as Frost would tell with a sigh, but the road not taken that keeps the traveller thinking what could have been. While such is a typical existential pondering of the immigrant experience as one leaves one’s homeland to start another life, it is also a universal question as we concede our limitation as humans, feeling the loss of opportunities or the what if’s with the road not taken. Song’s feature is like a visual depiction of Frost’s poem, illustrating a real life scenario.
Song excels here in elliptical storytelling. Some sequences are almost dreamlike with blocked-out dialogues, or a still camera pointing at Hae Sung and Nora gazing at each other in silence; viewers are free to imagine what’s going through their minds.
However, with the short 105 minutes film duration, I feel more time could have been spent on a deeper characterization of Hae Sung in Korea. What kind of a man has he grown into other than merely the soju drinking young man or later just the outward changes in appearance; and how he still clings to a childhood image of Na Young now that they are adults. If Hae Sung can be developed into a more solid, three-dimensional character instead of like a ghost of Nora Past, the conflicts could have a more powerful impact.
Surely, this is Nora’s story, and Lee has delivered effectively with pathos and realism. Further, Song has proven herself to be a filmmaker to watch in the future.
~ ~ ~ Ripples
___________________________
I thank Asian American Press for the permission to repost my review here in full.
Ripple Effects 