The first thing I noticed as I was watching Past Lives in a local theater was how clunky the Korean dialogue was.
It’s not that any of it was inaccurate, but there were just so many sentences that were phrased in a way you could tell they were not written by a native or fluent Korean speaker.
But that didn’t really take away from my experience of the film at the end of the day.
Pretty soon, I realized this movie was so much bigger than those minor details.
It’s intensely powerful, intimate, personal, and yet universal, all at the same time.
What surprised me the most about Past Lives was the fact that it takes on a concept – of inyun or fate – that can often have a very bounding effect or at least be perceived as such, but turns it around and uses it as a freeing concept.
Sometimes, people feel they’re not living up to their full potential or living out the kind of life they could and should have led because of the choices they’ve made.
They have regrets thinking, “Oh I was supposed to take that job offer that day and everything would have turned out right.” Or “Oh, I should have married that person and that would have been what I needed to be happy right now.”
To that, Past Lives says no.
Sometimes, things don’t turn out ideally, and that’s okay.
When Nora, the protagonist, explains the idea of inyun to her friend halfway through the movie, I rolled my eyes slightly.
By the time Teo Yoo’s Hae Sung came to visit Nora in New York as an adult, I was afraid this movie was about to go down this path where it tells me these two belonged together all along due to their inyun.
This idea that all humans live in a cycle of reincarnation, dying and being born again thousands of times over and over.
And everyone we meet and interact with, we do so because we had actually met them in one of the lives before and the bonds formed then attracted us together in this life.
Then, Past Lives took me by surprise and said this.
It doesn’t deny that Nora and Hae Sung seem to share a very special inyun, but also doesn’t say, therefore, the two must end up together to avoid the misery stemming from having left their fate unfulfilled.
Instead, the movie says, if your inyun didn’t go as far as you wanted, maybe it’s because your relationship in this life was to prepare you for more in the next.
Obviously, writer-director Celine Song isn’t trying to tell you inyun and past lives are real.
Maybe they are, but Nora certainly doesn’t seem to actually believe in them.
But for anyone who is obsessing over things of the past in their own lives, missed opportunities and fractured relationships and so on, this philosophy of life presents them with a healthy way to deal with feelings of regret and longing and even embrace them.
When credits rolled, my entire theater was sniffing.
Despite the story of Nora and Hae Sung being so specific, this packed audience of various backgrounds could all draw personal connections to their own lives.
I think part of it was tear of sadness, because we were reminded that we do have to let go of these people and things we hold onto so dear, and that’s painful no matter what.
But a lot of it was also tear of joy, because we were given a moment to appreciate all those who passed through our lives and cherish those memories, which will always be a part of us.
I want to thank Celine Song for sharing this story with us, and in a way that is so unlike anything else we’ve seen before.
The triumph of Past Lives is in the seemingly inconsequential details.
It’s moments like when the 12-year-old Nora and her sister Michelle are making childish jokes and giggling with each other on the plane ride to Canada.
And when Hae Sung comes to the table for breakfast with his traditional Korean family and starts eating quietly.
These scenes are not required for the plot to advance.
But they slowly build up and enhance your ability to identify with the characters, and do not leave your mind for a long time.
Greta Lee was amazing as Nora, a character I initially thought was childlike and selfish but turned out to be a very grounded and honest individual.
She is in no ways a perfect, all-wise woman.
The way she Banshees of Inishereen’ed Hae Sung via FaceTime in this one scene had me devastated for the man, though I understand where she was coming from.
But we are all a work in progress, and I sense that Nora is probably headed in a very good direction.
I can’t believe the vulnerability Teo Yoo expressed in playing Hae Sung.
I know the actor in real life doesn’t speak perfect Korean, and it shows in the movie.
He also had to work with a character whose life the audience only gets to see brief glimpses of, unlike Lee.
And yet, I had no trouble connecting with and empathizing with him every time.
Nora says at one point that Hae Sung is masculine in a Korean way.
I feel like masculinity in Korea is often associated with toughness, but Teo Yoo was open, and more importantly, respectful, not due to weakness but due to strength.
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