‘Past’ Present
First-timer Celine Song makes an impressive debut getting all up in the feels. Whistful romantics, start your engines.
Past lives
Director: Celine Song • Writer: Celine Song
Starring: Greta Lee, Yoo Teo, John Magaro
USA / South Korea • 1hr 45mins
Opens Hong Kong August 24 • IIA
Grade: B
I think what’s happening in Past Lives is that we’ve got a “good” film, that’s well conceived and relatively well executed, that I simply don’t like. Like, gurl, I’m not interested in your mopey, piney navel-gazing about a dude you knew when you were 12 – 12! – and who you reconnect with, first via Skype then finally in person at the ripe age of 36, and who evidently is the catalyst for some earth-shattering introspection. Seriously, what’s with the waterworks?
Which is not to say playwright Celine Song’s feature filmmaking debut doesn’t have an audience of people who are interested in just this kind of meandering romantic tension (no shade), practically invented by David Lean in Brief Encounter and perfected in stuff like Richard Linklater’s Before Sunrise. You know, stuff where a couple try and figure out if they belong together and wander around having vaguely deep conversations about their feelings when they’re not gazing at each other and saying nothing (brace for impact). Past Lives is a very specific type of exercise, one rooted in pondering concepts like fate and self-determination, regret and second chances, the meaning of “love”, the one that got away and acceptance of the idea that it’s better to have loved and lost so on and so forth. It’s blatantly and unapologetically emotional, and wears its ‘What if?” on its sleeve. Fans of romantic drama are going to go bananas; bring tissues. Those who are not will be left unmoved by the semi-tragedy and misdirected angst.
It only looks like he’s about to speak
Born in Seoul, Song emigrated to Canada with her family at 12, then to the US as a theatre student in her mid-twenties before getting married to a white guy and author (Justin Kuritzkes). In Past Lives, Greta Lee (Russian Doll) plays Nora Moon, a 12-year-old Seoul girl who moves to Canada with her artsy parents, leaving behind her BFF and possible soul mate, Hae-sung. Years later, now adult Nora finds Hae-sung (Yoo Teo, Pawn) on Facebook and they start talking. It’s comfortable and awkward. He’s studying engineering but will be off to military service soon. She’s got a new severe haircut and is heading off to a writer’s residency programme in Montauk, New York. There she meets Arthur (John Magaro), another writer who she eventually marries. Hae-sung and Nora finally meet again in their mid-thirties in a Manhattan stroll lifted straight from Woody Allen’s, erm, Manhattan.
This is where Past Lives either sinks or swims, depending on your tastes. The film was a darling of Sundance this year, and it bears all the hallmarks of a Sundance indie: wilfully stilted dialogue between long stretches of awkward silence, verbose considerations of identity and agency, profound declarations of affection (uh, no one talks to each other like Arthur and Nora do in real life). Oversized sweaters and warm mugs of tea signalling creativity. There’s a slow-burning, artisanal aesthetic here that Song relies on to resonate with viewers. Been there, done that, we’re supposed to say. I know this woman. But the foundational bond between Nora and Hae-sung is a wisp of a thing, and so doesn’t feel like the monumental loss for both we’re told it is. For a movie about feelings, you don’t feel it. As a result, Song and Past Lives remain a little detached; a little clinical in the examination of a love triangle that never was.
In the end this is about Greta, her choices, and the sudden confrontation she has with herself over those choices. The personal dilemma might land a little better if either Hae-sung or Arthur had been more compelling as people (or there had been a smidge of sexual tension), and Song’s flirtation with issues pivoting on otherness could have used more time. One of the film’s more compelling elements is Arthur’s insecurity over the linguistic and cultural connection Nora has with Hae-sung, something he will never be able to share with her. But that’s not this story. To that end, full credit to Song for a laser focus that gave her the ability to dance the line between Hollywood happy endings and reality, astute observations on human interaction, and for making Arthur a grown-ass man, and not using the character as some sort avatar poor life choices. The (allegedly) devastating closing frames had some in the preview audience sniffling and snorting, so if low-key, understated yearning is your jam? The film of the year has arrived. — DEK
*Past Lives was reviewed during the 2023 WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes. Without the labour of the writers and actors currently on strike, it wouldn't exist.