Bom yeoreum gaeul gyeoul geurigo bom

The circle of life is everlasting. We, as busy humans, sometimes miss the opportunity to see it in full effect. The modern day conveniences of life and the hustle and bustle of work sometimes fog our eyes to the constantly moving world. Thankfully we have films like Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter … and Spring, to help guide us back to our roots. Through each season, director Ki-duk Kim shows us the journey of one young boy as he learns life through the hands and mind of an older monk. Through events that are beyond his control, this young boy learns about love, lust, jealousy, hatred, and eventually rage. He makes choices that ultimately effect his life causing turmoil and distress, yet somehow continually finds his way back to the floating house on the lake where his journey began. It is during his final visit home he learns of his final journey in life. As a new soul is handed to him, he embarks on a final journey using his master's lesson, to pay homage to the life he has lead.

When I watched this film the first story that came to mind was that told by Trina Paulus in 'Hope for the Flowers'. It is the story of two caterpillars that embark on a journey into butterflies. Along the way they experience a full range of emotions that are attached to life and death. In the end, they become two of the most beautiful creatures in the world. This is how I viewed this entire film. I felt as if I was watching a young caterpillar (the young boy) experience life and journey along the path to become the beautiful butterfly. The beauty of the scenes and the simplicity of this story not drenched in words only kept this image vibrant. The spiritual themes of this film are present, but not bold. They are not hitting you in the face and forcing you to understand, but instead showing you and demonstrating the power of those willing to believe. This is a quiet film that leaves much up to our imagination. We never leave the valley that surrounds the lake, we never know what year is currently going on outside of the forest, and we are meant to understand that this story could take place anytime. Kim gives us themes that can be used to express any period of time and is especially poignant in today's terror filled world.

I loved everything about this film. From the simplicity of the opening doors to introduce each scene to the stunning and hypnotic ending that makes you believe in the human spirit. If you walk away with anything from this film, I hope it is hope. Hope for everything on this planet, and especially a hope for our fellow man. Mistakes are made to learn by. Take these errors and accept them to move closer to the world you have always dreamed about. Be that young boy that is able to transform into the man he desires.

See this movie, and feel a warmth like no other. This is quite possibly one of the best films of the year. Amazing!

Grade: **** out of ****

I remember when I saw this film on screen last year, I was struck by the rhythm director Kim Ki-Duk used in the film. It's deliberate, too deliberate for most I'd suppose. But like a reading good piece of philosophy, the filmmaker allows the viewer to get as much as they may find in the work. The story is more of a fable than a really conventional narrative- a baby is delivered to the steps of a Buddhist house on a lake, where the boy is raised by a master. He grows up, and falls temptation to the desires of the world. He decides to leave, only to return and find himself again. In the end, as winter comes, things come full circle. Each of the 'seasons' of the film are handled delicately, with the kind of simplicity that may appeal even more to children (the segment of the first 'spring' with the child transcends religion and goes into the basic stance of nature). The scenes of finding lust in 'summer' is not terribly graphic, but it puts the point on what is right and wrong in the customs and traditions of the religion. Then in 'Autumn', there are harsher lessons to be learned, and this also contains the best acting from the old master and the young, angry pupil. And 'Winter' becomes the most meditative of them all, with next to no dialog. Indeed that may be the turn off to most viewers- to say that the film isn't supported by dialog is an under-statement. And its not necessarily documentary realism. What I sensed from the film, and what stuck with me for a few days afterward, was the spiritual attitude behind the style, the confidence that the rhythm had a connection with the subject matter. It's one of the most soulful films to come out of the Eastern world in some time. It's less a traditional drama than a unique experience, for better or worse, really more for the better.

After watching the movie a second time, I was determined to find out what the Old Monk had drawn on the deck of the hermitage. The only clue I had was the scene's subtitle: "Prajnaparamita Sutra – it helps restore inner peace." Those were the words the Old Monk used to describe the sacred teachings that the Young Monk had to carve out as penance for his crime of passion. When I looked up the Prajnaparamita Sutra on the internet, I found out it was known as the Diamond Sutra of the Buddha.

The Buddha spoke the wise words in a monastery near Sravasti, saying that "this sutra should be called the Diamond that cuts through illusion because it has the capacity to cut through illusions and afflictions and bring us to the shore of liberation." There are 32 sutras or sections, and the 32 sections are also "marks" that are used to meditate on "the Tathagata" – which means "the suchness of all things (dharmas)." The meaning of Tathagata is "does not come from anywhere and does not go anywhere." The insight into the truth of the sutras consists in a realization that "the idea of a self is not an idea, and the ideas of a person, a living being, and a life span are not ideas either." A self-realized or awakened "Buddha" is called a Buddha because he/she is free of ideas.

The "Buddha" in the Diamond Sutra is also called the World-Honored One, and his message can be summarized by two axioms: (1) "Someone who looks for me in form or seeks me in sound is on a mistaken path and cannot see the Tathagata." (2) "All composed things are like a dream, a phantom, a drop of dew, a flash of lightning. That is how to meditate on them, that is how to observe them."

Now I will have to watch the movie a third time and meditate on the 32 marks that the Old Monk draws with the cat's tail on the floor of the ashram. I will also feel the urge to count and see if there are really 32 marks.

I'm constantly amazed by the appearance of some seemingly off-the-wall piece of art that when you view it evokes a stunning effect. The simplicity of this film, its low-key action and pace, its visual surrealistic beauty, all interact to create an emotional impression that is long-lasting and thought-provoking. Korea has been somewhat slower to enter the international cinematic world and here is a film with actors whose names stir little or no recognition. For myself, who has enjoyed the Korean films I've seen before, it was a delightful surprise. The film itself is a wonderful tapestry of Korean Buddhist culture, with quiet visual beauty, simple moral themes and human passions put into a simple, homespun perspective. The remarkable natural setting which reflects the wide spectrum of Korea's seasons, which range from hot, sticky humid-fraught summers to icy, cold snow-bound winters, become a metaphor of life with unadorned figures, completely human in form. The old monk becomes a witness to the interplay of human qualities, without judgment yet with a complete and quiet moral presence. The foibles of child cruelty is met with a simple retribution which imparts a lasting lesson. Judgment is always withheld and warnings are given simply. The effect of all of this rings long and lasting, much like the impression of a delicate Korean silk print: simple in design with plain brush strokes and stylized representations of nature-- yet, lasting in impression, often to the point of being unforgettable. I buy few videos and DVDs, preferring to see things I really enjoyed again and again. But, I've ordered this one.

Perfect Simplicity

My review of this film should end with those two words. However, the 10 line minimum requirement that IMDb requires of all reviews belies the differences between my world and the world shown to me in Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter…and Spring. I understand why IMDb does not want 1000's of (apparently) useless two-word reviews in their database. However, I would hope that they could make an exception for this film.

Perfect: The film is as close to perfect as a film could get. No shot is presented to us, nor a line of dialog uttered that does not make us ponder and understand at the same time. The film is also beautiful. (Like the previous reviewer, I am a fan of Asian cinema and never tire of the stunning ability of Asian directors to capture beauty on film.) This film exceeds most other Asian films I have seen in the cinematography regard. However, its beauty is surprisingly deceptive. Like most great films, it surpasses the 'cinematography' level of beauty and delves into the beauty of existence through its story. For example, the Old Monk has a different pet during each 'season' of his life. This is not discussed by the characters nor shoved in our face by the director – as would have been done if Hollywood had done this film. It is merely background we experience and come to understand. Two days after viewing the film, I am still finding new reflections in my mind that encompass the cinematography, the literal story and the underlying context of the film.

Simplicity: This film approaches a level of cinematic Haiku. While I don't recall the entire dialog with any specificity, I am sure you could print the script on one page of paper. The amazing part is that while you are watching the film, you don't notice this. Every shot moves the story along. The simplicity of life as shown by the story is reflected in the simplicity of the film. After the film ended, I had a strong urge to move away from civilization and live – or die – in peace with nature. I enjoy (and have come to be too dependent upon) modern inventions, so I will stay at home. However, this film will remain in my heart. It does exactly what good story-telling is supposed to do: Take us completely out of our world and put us in another. There is no wonder that this film was selected for so many film festivals.