South Korean director Hong Sang-soo is a man that can be easily
associated with that popular and age-old joke: ‘A South Korean film director
walks into a bar…etc., etc., etc.’ Pretty much all of his films revolve around
people sitting in some sort of establishment where alcoholic beverages can be
purchased, discussing the ins and outs of their – usually sex – life, as the
booze continues to flow. Most of the lead characters (typically male) are
artistically-troubled film directors, serving in roles of university lecturers
and film festival panels, where younger and more female humans are their
subordinates, leading the still young enough Mr Director to try and make his
power remove their underwear. If it’s in a drunkenly awkward scenario, the better.
Soo, what am I saying?! All
of his films are the same?! That is something that could very much be said. A
large proportion of his films revolve around a very similar premise and, being
in the more art wing of the house, plot and story development are not major
players. So, it could be interpreted that this is a one-trick pony, making the
same old film yet again, which you didn’t much care for in the first place,
like a sporting team that loses every week, never learning from their mistakes.
Interpretation number one out of the bag, what’s the second? A more
positive light on his films would suggest a director exploring the different
directions his characters can go, both within films themselves, but also
throughout his body of work. Starting from the same point, he explores the
right moves, the wrong moves, the very wrong moves, with good ol’ Captain
Hindsight there at the end to let the protagonists know what they should have
done. Life can switch in a moment, depending on a (usually drunken) impulse and
can lead us to many different stories and success with each option open to us.
The characters often languish in melancholy, unaware as to how much they truly
are in control of their own destiny.
‘HaHaHa’ (2010) is a brilliantly-named film, though, as with most Hong
films, is not as laugh-out-loud (that’s how you spell LOL) funny as the title
would suggest. Two friends, one obviously a film director, meet for drinks
before the filmmaker jets off for Canada. They discuss their recent adventures
over beverages, discovering they have both just been to their small home town.
Discussions soon turn to the fairer sex (sexist) and, known to the audience,
but unbeknownst to them, they had both been having fun with the same girl while
in town.
The shots of the present conversation are still in black and white,
with the dialogue flowing over them, before the memoirs are played out for the
camera; perhaps the film’s ‘gimmick.’ The two leads are pawns for the audience
as we can laugh at the pair ending up in the same places with the same faces,
though each is unaware that this was the case, with the same scenario played
out, though the lead male changing each time.
This is an archetypal Hong film, involving drinking, liaisons with
women, a film director, and repeating the same scenario to different outcomes.
A subtle comedy, as they all are, what differentiates this film is the still
shots to accompany the initial recollections before switching to the action and
the male protagonist changing alternately.
Similar to this, but just involving one man, who works in film, are
‘The Day He Arrives’ and the recent ‘Right Now, Wrong Then’. In
the former, a film lecturer arrives in Seoul to meet up with a friend for a few
days. Along the way, he bumps into various characters and ends up in various amorous
situations. The next day, he bumps into the same various characters and once
again ends up in various amorous situations.
A 'Groundhog Day' scenario, the 'hero' essentially lives the same day
three times, the people he meets and places he winds up the same, though the
journey of the day varies each time. This, therefore, feels a little like watching a spot-the-difference competition, essentially watching the same short three
times, just with some tweaks to the dialogue but always resulting in drunken
conversations and lip-locking. This is very much a Hong film.
'Right Now, Wrong Then' follows this idea of the same situation being
played out, though this time only twice: A film director gives an introduction
to his new film at a provincial film festival. Bored for what to do next, he
meets a young artist and the two gradually get talking, visiting her apartment,
going for sushi and late-night drinking. To start, things go well, only for the
relationship of the pair to worsen as the story progresses. This is 'Right
Then, Wrong Now'. But we're only halfway through the film.
The second half starts 'Right Now, Wrong Then', with the same scenario
played through, though this time the meeting of the pair starts off less than
friendly and gradually becomes warmer as the story progresses. The main reason
for this is the revelations that the director offers. First time around, he is flirtatious,
wanting to meet the undies of the young artist, not revealing he is married, so
when the truth comes out, it hurts. Second time around, he is more honest,
letting it be known that he is married to start, perhaps why things are more
cold to start. But as they get to know each other, feelings develop more.
A repeated criticism of Hong's films is that there is little end point
to them: They are drunken bumbles that end up in poorly judged intercourse.
Though 'Right Now, Wrong Then' has a bit more to it than that, looking at the
nature of truth in relationships and how honesty is probably the best policy.
All of Hong's films have a fish out of water element, with people
arriving in places somewhat alien to them. 'Hill of Freedom', perhaps my
favourite Hong film, features Japanese actor-man, Ryo Hase arriving in Seoul, a
former linguistic teacher there, searching for a former student he fell in love
with. But she's not there; sick, she has gone to the mountains to recuperate. Left
on his own, he spends his days drinking with locals, sleeping with women and
speaking hilariously broken English. Most of this is in English, making this
perhaps Hong's most outwardly humorous film.
With her not there, he writes her letters, leaving them at her school
reception. Though when she collects them, she drops them, losing their
chronology. with no dates added, she reads them at random, the film played-out
with no order of which to speak, again adding to the humour.
While still featuring a male role superior to that of his female love
interest, this is something of a different film in that no one admits to being
a film director. Rather than repeating stories with slightly different
journeys, here Hong plays with non-linear storytelling. This is perhaps why it
is quite short. Though kept light, here he is more creative and varied with his
ideas.
The Japanese dealt with, Hong has also looked at Europeans in South
Korea, namely the French. Though for 'In Another Country', Hong offers more of
his usual offering. A writer starts a story about a French film director,
naturally, arriving in a small sea-side town. Here she sits about, drinks,
eats, gets bored, looks for a lighthouse and gets flirty with the local life
guard. The same story is then told again twice, with the same cast, though the
characters change each time, apart from the life guard.
Firstly, she is a French film director; secondly she is a woman
arriving to meet her film director lover in secret as they have their affair;
thirdly she is a woman recently divorced, her husband having left her for a
Korean women.
Being a white woman, perhaps Hong is commenting on Korean attitudes
towards Western women, everyone telling her she is beautiful, when all three
guises of 'Anna' (played by real-life French female Isabelle Huppert) clearly
are not. While the English dialogue is humorous in 'Hill of Freedom', here is too
awkward, acted woodenly and none of the characters likeable. Here all Korean
men are sexual predators and French women irritating and coquettish. There is
no end to any of these three journeys, and this is a script that perhaps Hong
should have left in another country.
Two potentially more conventional films from Hong are 'Nobody's
Daughter Haewon' and 'Like You Know it All'. The latter features another film
director in an unknown setting, taking on the role of panel judge in a small
film festival. But he doesn't care much for it, more interested in one of the
young organisers. Getting drunk, however, the night ends a mess, with the young
female disappointed by him not taking a more senior role and protecting her
when vulnerable. A falling out with a friend over his young wife also leaves
him feeling a little mythed.
Taking some time off, he visits a film school where he lectures,
meeting his old teacher, now married to his former lover. More drunken antics
ensue, leaving our hero in a spot of bother, hapless when it comes to alcohol
and women. Hong plays with Director Koo here, unwittingly finding himself in
various scenarios where he ends up taking all the blame. Though as he keeps
ending up in these scenarios, despite the new faces and different setting, he
fails to learn from his mistakes, repeating the same scenarios. Ironically for
a Hong film, however, this is more of a linear film, so while not a repeat of
the same scenario, he is a man destined to go round in circles.
'Nobody's Daughter Haewon' has a similar elder man/younger female
relationship, but is more from the perspective of the female, though not
entirely. Feeling somewhat orphaned as her mother leaves for Canada, she
re-ignites a secret affair with her former teacher. But spending time together,
the secret is soon out, leaving Haewon feeling further alienated. More brooding
than comedy, this is slightly more straightforward in terms of narrative,
though is a somewhat complex piece.
These last two lack some of the ‘gimmicks’ of the previously mentioned,
though are less distinct than some of his other works. Indeed, these 'gimmicks'
can serve as the point of differentiation between his films: the stories
similar, the way they are told is what you perhaps take away. Though not just
similar thematically, Hong has a definite style exhibited throughout his films.
His use of long takes gives a naturalistic feel to his films, the actors
seeming to be thinking of what to say as the camera rolls, making it seem
improvised and stuttering, though conversations don't really happen with the
sharpness that films suggest. These long takes come with lengthy dialogue
between characters, putting the world to rights over alcohol; the camera often
zooming in to draw the audience to listen closely to what is being said.
This is a limited analysis of Hong's films, and I have not seen the
full body of his works, though with a similar theme and style throughout, I'm
not sure if I need to. Other directors with a similar number of titles to their
name will have tried their hand at different genres and styles, though Hong
prefers to stick to what he knows, perhaps the bumbling directors drunkenly
floundering at younger women a reflection of his own life.
While for the most part enjoyable, perhaps it is time for Hong to call
time on the drunken conversations in his films and head home to prepare himself
for a new day and a new style. While each film has its own little gimmick, the
fact that the characters and scenarios are largely interchangeable makes you
sometimes feel you are watching the same again.
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