Have you ever met someone you just clicked with? Has it ever felt like it was destined for a special someone to be a part of your life one way or another? Celine Song, the writer and director of Past Lives, introduces the concept of “In-Yun” to American moviegoers who may not be familiar with the Korean concept. Catrina Prager describes In-Yun as “the belief that the interactions between two people in this life are owed to interactions (or near-interactions) in their past lives. The concept suggests that some encounters are not, as we might at first assume, accidental, but rather a cosmic tug on our sleeve.” Regardless of whether or not you believe in this romantic view of life, the film compels us to see our relationships and daily interactions in a new, thought-provoking light. With its playful cinematography, heart-wrenching performances, and refreshingly powerful dialogue, this film effortlessly raises the bar for storytelling across the board.
We start the film with a pubescent Nora as she faces the difficult reality of leaving South Korea for a new life with her family in Canada, forcing her to abandon the strong bond she shares with her classmate, best friend, and crush, Hae Sung. After moving, this inseparable duo loses contact, leaving them to navigate new and worn paths on their own. However, through the power of Facebook friend requests, the two reconnect after more than a decade to find they still relish the same electric bond they shared so many years ago.
Eventually, the consistent connection becomes overwhelming for Nora. She realizes their physical distance makes reconciliation seem like a faraway dream, while simultaneously drawing focus away from her career as a playwright– one of the most important sectors of her life. She severs the relationship, and another twelve years pass in the blink of an eye before they see each other again. After a tense, yet passionate, yet awkward, yet loving moment of embrace, the pair spend their time together sightseeing around New York, contemplating the alternate realities they could’ve lived through, side by side.
Though the film showcases aspects of Korean and American culture, the theme of the story is unwaveringly universal- a narrative we’ve all experienced in some capacity. It’s part of the human condition to wonder how different our lives would look if we made alternate choices, and the cinematography of the film quite literally reflects this act of reflection the characters experience. The collage of gorgeously composed shots throughout the film shows Hae Sung through glass, puddles, and other surfaces that allow us to observe him in a way that visually gives us insight into this inner dialogue. Other vibrant moments throughout the film also showcase how fun the cinematography is for such a melancholy story, and how talented Song is at communicating difficult emotions through visual storytelling.
In opposition to Hae Sung, we also get to know Arthur, the best and worst character I have ever had the pleasure of knowing through the screen. Arthur is arguably one of the most beautiful parts of the film, even though he’s the third wheel between his wife, Nora, and his “rival,” Hae Sung, for the majority of his screen time. His character is what elevated this film from feeling like I was watching a movie, to feeling like I was watching someone’s real life unfold on screen. Besides the masterful use of silence and distance between Nora and Hae Sung’s characters that made this film feel tangible, Arthur’s understanding and maturity about the situation grounded the piece for me in all the right ways. The ending of the film is a prime example of this, as Nora sobs in Arthur’s arms after Hae Sung departs. It would have been enormously easier for Song to make this character into a villain, but instead, she tastefully convinces us to empathize with each character, making the heartbreak run even deeper as the film hits a little too close to home.
Past Lives is a film that leaves you yearning for more. This film left me staring back at my reflection on my dark flatscreen as the credits rolled, feeling like my heart was crushed for the wrong reasons but in all the perfect ways. I cross my fingers that the Oscar Academy feels the same way as I do, drowning this film in all the shiny, golden glory it deserves. But, if it doesn’t happen this upcoming Oscar season, it’s a little comforting to think that maybe in another life… it does.