My Love, Don't Cross That River (BFI 59th London Film Festival)

Last year at the London film Festival, my choice of the films I watched was South Korea's Hong Sang-soo's gentle comedy, 'Hill of Freedom'. I will also be taking in his latest work, 'Right Now, Wrong Then' at this year's festival, but before that, South Korea was represented by Jin Mo-young's documentary 'My Love, Don't Cross that River'.   

'My Love, Don't Cross that River' is a film of two halves. We start at the film's inevitable conclusion, but are quickly moved into the story of life-ling married couple, Jo Byeong-man and Kang Kye-yeol. Married for seventy-six years, the pair now spend their days in and around their home, playing with their dogs and frolicking like little children in love.

This documentary, without narration, watches them together as they go about their daily business, shopping, performing chores and having their many children and grandchildren visit. Director Jin Mo-young sets out to paint a picture of a couple very much in love, still after a whole lifetime together.

However, with Byeong-man now approaching one-hundred years-old it is clear that their seventy-six years of married life are drawing to a close. The documentary soon switches from a joyful tale of love to a distressing piece on mortality and how all good things must come to an end.

With his health deteriorating, Byeong-man can no longer perform his role as the man, confined to lying, coughing a spluttering, sharing final moments with his six surviving children. Kye-yeol, however, can only sit and watch, preparing herself for the inevitable, performing his last rites.

We start off in bright and joyful mode, with an easy to watch story about an ageing couple. By the end, we are left with everyone in tears, with the final forty minutes a struggle to sit through as we watch a dying man in his last moments, while his wife and family come to terms with it, as all good things must come to an end.

Without yang, there is no yin, without death, there is no life, without Byeong-man, there is no Kye-yeol. Jin's documentary has gone on to become the highest grossing independent film or documentary in Korean history, and it's not hard to see why. He lets the camera roll and the narrative come out naturally, in what could have easily become forced and lacking respect.

'My Love, Don't Cross that River' is, at times, uncomfortable viewing, but so is life, reminding us that with every up there must be a down.