Original caricature by Jeff York of Greta Lee and Teo Yoo in PAST LIVES (copyright 2023).
Love stories are the rarest of the rare on the big screens these days. Perhaps they’re too predictable – boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl back – or maybe we’re too hostile an audience after a pandemic, insurrection, and $8 milk to give into flights of fancy about the heart. No matter, a new love story currently in Cineplexes demands to be seen for many reasons: its unique story, the truth in its insights, and a deft and mature female touch behind the camera. The film is PAST LIVES, written and directed by Celine Song in her feature directorial debut. It’s the most affecting love story I’ve seen in a long time, an incredibly insightful tale about all the obstacles that can get in the way of love from youth to continents to ambition. The film belongs in the pantheon of ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND, 500 DAYS OF SUMMER, and especially, the Hulu streaming series NORMAL PEOPLE, as the cinematic love stories that define the 21st Century.
The film starts with three people sitting and conversing in an elegant bar in New York City. We can’t quite figure out the dynamic between the trio any more than the couple we hear conversing about them from across the room. (It’s one of Song’s many sly moves to add mystery to the love story right off the bat as she’s telling us that indeed love itself is often just that.) All we can deduce for sure is that the 30-ish woman is of Asian descent, as is the 30-ish man to her right, and that the man to her left is 30-ish as well, but Caucasian. Their conversation seems intimate, perhaps even a bit tense. Who are they and what’s going on?
From there, Song flashes back 24 years earlier to when the two Asian leads are shown as children, classmates in a South Korean junior high. A tearful Na Young (Moon Seung-ah) is being consoled by Hae Sung (Leem Seung-min), helping her get over her embarrassment at being bested in the day’s studies. As it turns out, he was the one who got the highest test score and it’s one of the rare times he’s prevailed. Na Young cannot stay upset though because the winner is also her very best friend, and their intimacy suggests that there might be burgeoning puppy love building between them. Unfortunately, that relationship will stop dead in its tracks for the time being as Na Young and her parents are moving to Canada for the opportunities presented by the West.
From there, the story flashes forward to 12 years later when curiosity gets the best of both of the young adults. Both Na Young and Hae Sung seek each other out on Facebook and from here on out, the two adult actors we witnessed in the first scene – Greta Lee and Teo Yoo – take over the story. The two make contact via Skype and there is still a demonstrable spark between them. They start up a long-distance relationship, calling each other often, no matter whether it’s day or night. The spark is still there, as is a need to rely on something in an ever-changing world swirling around them.
Na Young now goes by the more American moniker of Nora Moon, and she’s studying to be a playwright in New York City. Hae Sung has remained in South Korea and is living with his parents after a mandatory stint in the army for all young Korean men. As they talk and share their innermost thoughts, the two grow closer and closer. They seem to be falling in love, and so are we with them. But then, out of the blue, Nora cuts it off abruptly, fearing that their relationship is becoming a distraction from her theatrical ambitions.
The chemistry between the two is utterly tangible, even though they are only communicating with each other online. Nonetheless, Nora shuts it all down, completely stopping any and all communications. Not long after, she ventures to a retreat for writers out in the country and meets Arthur (John Magaro) there. He’s the man we saw in the prologue, and in a matter of quick scenes, the two are a couple.
Song now catapults the story ahead another 12 years and Nora and Arthur are married. Yet Hae Sung isn’t out of the picture completely. He’s just broken up with his girlfriend and is itching to finally reconnect with Nora in New York. As the third act starts, he flies to visit her and Arthur, unsure of what he wants out of the trip. The pending visit challenges both Nora and Arthur too as they grapple with their feelings for each other and some less-than-romantic truths in their relationship. It’s all an incredible set-up for a complex and intricate third act, one where three people’s lives and loves will hang in the balance.
Throughout, Song’s writing is precise and economical, as are the scenes, telling us just enough to keep up with the flurry of time and shifting events. She’s also provocative in how sometimes the characters express themselves vividly, while other times they hide their truths. Song’s expert at directing actors too as all three adult leads give extraordinary performances. The child performers are great too and PAST LIVES should be up for a SAG ensemble award next year if there is any justice in Hollywood.
What gives the film such heft through all their ups and downs is that while Nora and Hae Sung could be together, and maybe should be, their lives are anything but clear and easy. Song even illustrates that metaphorically in almost every scene, blocking Nora or Hae Sung surrounded by large spaces or cluttered interiors. And when they finally do physically share the same space together in NYC, Song keeps them apart in various ways to maximize the tension. The two rarely touch, showing not only their mutual respect for her marriage but uncertainty on how exactly to connect. Even in close proximity, like during a subway ride, while both clinging to the same pole, their hands don’t touch. They don’t even graze. The director also makes a cheeky point about such distances in the way she showcases her titles. During the final credits, when the words “Past Lives” appear, there is enough room between the two for a couple of other words to squeeze in.
Song also uses silence and sound design in the underscore to great effect. She never employs a sprightly piano the way so many rom-coms do, instead choosing synthesizer chords to create a pensiveness throughout. She’s not afraid to use symbolism either; the day Hae Sung arrives in the Big Apple, it’s being hit by a resounding thunderstorm. Additionally, Song has Hae Sung and Nora take a ferry around the Statue of Liberty, the very symbol of opportunity for immigrants that she took advantage of while he did not. Later, when the topic comes up with Arthur, he mentions that he’s never visited it. Of course not, as a local, it means little to him. The film wisely deals with Korean parenting, too, not to mention that country’s caste system, as well as the conservative expectations for Korean men. These are all further elements keeping Nora and Hae Sung apart, narrowing their full-bodied connection all the further.
PAST LIVES is a shrewdly low-key and delicate examination of love, one that leaves quiet devastation in its wake. You’ll come away feeling inspired by a great filmmaker and wholly affected by her incredibly affecting love story.
