Miryang

I love how Lee Chang-dong tells a story. I went in to this completely cold, and he had me hooked for all 142 minutes. I can't say I loved it, especially as it compares to some of his other work - it's just so unrelenting in its examination of grief - but its powerful moments which are deftly delivered will undoubtedly have real staying power. Among those is that scene in the prison, when through a beatific smile a man who has committed genuine evil claims to have been forgiven by god, which made the film an interesting examination of faith as well.

Those with faith sometimes claim that without it, any immoral act would be possible, but here we get the inverse. To have faith and believe your acts can be absolved can lead to the same depravity. The young woman navigating stages of grief as well as trying to process her evolving thoughts about god, starting with "if there is a god, why would he allow evil in the world to innocent children?" touch on things about the human condition that are impossible to reconcile, and may make you feel as tortured as she is if you think about them. To his credit, Lee never turned this into a crime story with a twist, or a revenge story, instead simply dwelling on the aftermath of something terrible happening to a good person.

There are clearly moments when religion is being critiqued, such as when the protagonist blares "It's a Lie" by Kim Choo Ja over the loudspeakers during a congregation, but it's notable that it's not completely portrayed as negative. The gentle arc of Song Kang-ho's character, starting from being a creep who jokes along with his buddies in aggressively harassing ways to a woman in their workplace, and ending with turning down an offer for sex and saying that attending church helps make him feel peaceful, was deeply humanistic. Throughout the film, the performances from Song and Jeon Do-yeon were fantastic, more than keeping up with a deep, emotionally complex script.

This is one I admire more than love, but I could see that changing over time. It certainly had me thinking about it for a long time afterwards, and Lee Chang-dong continues to be a director I'd see anything from.

There are a few stills on IMDB from the film, one in particular where the lead character (played by Jeon Do-yeon) is sitting in a Church. I looked at that picture a year after I watched the film and tears came to my eyes. This woman doesn't just play the role, she becomes it. There is no other way to explain the grief she expresses. You know when you are watching an incredible performance when for moments, if not the duration, you are hypnotized into believing you are watching someone truly experiencing what they are sharing in a performance. I can only imagine the potential traumas of "channeling" such a performance. In an interview by another actor (Michael K Williams), he talked about tools that are available to actors to allow them to comfortably return to reality without the stress (ptsd) from going in "too deep". Jeon Do-yeon's performance reminded me of that interview because I wonder how she did not "crack-up" after this film. You do not simply switch on and off without being affected unless you are extremely talented. I repeat, EXTREMELY talented. It is not enough to say Jeon Do-yeon is the best (that I am aware of) from South Korea; she is among the absolute best on this planet!

"Secret Sunshine" reminded me of "The Rapture" (1991), with Mimi Rogers and David Duchovny, but this Korean production is a better film. It portrays super-religious Korean Christians in a provincial Korean city, and the main character's experiences interacting with them in the wake of a horrible personal tragedy. Shin-ae is a widowed single mother who moves to the city of Milyang ('Secret Sunshine' in Chinese) from Seoul with her young son. She has chosen Milyang because her late husband (killed in an auto accident) was born there, and she feels she needs to make a new start in life in a new place. She does not react well to the overtures of the local Christian zealots, one of whose members tries to convince her to come to their church and prayer meetings. Shin-ae is essentially irreligious and brushes these people off as politely as she can. In fact, she brushes just about everyone in Milyang off to begin with, but some of them are persistent in trying to invade her world, and the consequences are often hilarious. To say more would be to give the film away, but it should be noted that the performance of the woman in the lead role (Jeon Do-yeon) is stupendous. Having read that she won the Best Actress award at Cannes in 2007, I expected her to a decent job. But Ms. Jeon is captivating and it is impossible to take your eyes off her when she is on screen. The movie is a sort of harrowing Evelyn Waugh-esquire piece of work, showing how Fate can feel insane as much as strangely inevitable.

The acting is great. The concept of God, His presence and fight with Him. The movie about grief, mourning, faith and survival. The enactment of a game of separation and loss that became all too real and you can feel it. The pain and loss of loved ones and can we be able to cope it? The directors view of God, is it up in heavens or where we are living...

I tend to view Burning and Poetry as masterpieces, but I'm somewhat disappointed in this film. That stems in part from the scenes of religious conversion which are a bit drawn out and not really enjoyable to watch (these could have easily been abbreviated), but more critically, the portrait of Shin-ae's emotional state feels very andro-centric, not least the scene involving the pharmacist. It made me a little uneasy. There are also a number of transitions in her character which are simply too abrupt, and in general a lack of believability in what happens to Jun and how abruptly it does. It begs the question of why she would have left him in the first place? And while Jeon Do-yeon does an extraordinary job as the beleaguered mother, Soon Kang-ho as the ever cheerful Jong chan becomes a little wearying. The film otherwise lacks depth because we're never invited into her psychological state, and remain mostly voyeurs watching her at arm's length.