Secret Sunshine

"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...

Lee Chang-dong's exceptional "Secret Sunshine" is the single most emotionally ravaging experience of the year. It is an instantly sobering, brutally honest character piece on the reverberations of loss and a graceful memento mori that resonates with a striking density of thought, yet remains as inscrutable as the emotions it observes. Through its layered naturalism and stunningly trenchant view of small-town dynamics, Lee implicitly deconstructs the traditional Korean melodrama by pulling apart the cinematics of excess and ripping to shreds the arcs that shape its characters and grounds the proceedings into a crushing grind of stoic realism.

"Secret Sunshine" remains an immensely compelling, fluid work throughout its 142-minute runtime. Its bravura first hour is filled to the brim with subtextual insinuations, remarkable foreshadowing and adroit reversals of tone brought about by humanistic capriciousness. Adapted from a short story, Lee infuses the film with his sensitivity for the sublime paradoxes of life, last seen in his transgressively comic and irreverent "Oasis". Understanding how personal revolutions are forged when views of our universe are changed, Lee not only sees the emotional cataclysm of a widow's sorrow through an inquiring scope but also feels the tumultuous existential currents that underpin the film when religion becomes a narrative scapegoat in comprehending the heinousness of the human experience.

Do-yeon Jeon's ("You Are My Sunshine") Best Actress accolade at Cannes in 2007 is well deserved. Her performance as the widow Shin-ae remains an unrelenting enigma. As a character pulled apart by forces beyond her control, the sheer magnificence of this performance is central to the film's turbulent nature. With Jeon essaying one cyclonic upheaval after another, there's a tremulous sense of collapse that the film, to its credit, never approaches. Instead it finds a delicate balance that saps the charged theatricality and subsequent banality from ordinary tragedies and its fallouts. She becomes the centre of the film's universe as well as ours. Filmed in glorious hand-held CinemaScope, the film demolishes the cinematicism of frames and compositions by becoming visually acute just as it is quietly harrowing when the camera never relinquishes its gaze from Shin-ae through times of happiness, guilt and remorse.

Lee captures the details of life in the small, suspicious town of Miryang – the awkwardness of communal situations, its uncomfortable silences and its devastations spun out of personal dramas. Shin-ae's interactions with the townsfolk rarely inspires dividends, especially when they are merely done out of obligation to fit in for the sake of her son, Jun (Seon Jung-yeop). The one recurring acquaintance is Jong-chan (Song Kang-ho), a bachelor mechanic of uncertain intentions who helps her en route to Miryang in the film's enchanting open sequence set to a captivating stream of sunlight. Song has situated himself as a comedic anti-hero in South Korea's biggest films but his nuanced, low-key delivery here purports the director's thought process of never having to reveal more than plainly necessary.

If pain is ephemeral, then grief can never truly dissipate. And Lee finds complexity in subsistence. When Shin-ae attempts to head down the path of reconciliation only to be faced again with unimaginable heartbreak, she unsuccessfully employs the fellowship of evangelical Christianity as a foil to her sorrow. But Lee knows better than that when he understands that religion, in the context of the human canvas of strife and misery, is never a simple solution. But Lee never rebukes the essence of religion as he realises the value of salvation for some through a higher power even if it serves a form of denial in others. The scenes in its latter half which deal with religion doesn't allow itself to become aggressively scornful, which is a feat in itself considering how many filmmakers let the momentum of the material take over from what they need to say to be true to its story and characters.

Lee's first film since his call to office as his country's Minister of Culture and Tourism is an uncompromising dissertation on human suffering. In a film so artless and genuine, it arduously reveals that there's nothing as simple as emotional catharsis, just the suppression and abatement of agony. "Secret Sunshine" leaves us with tender mercies pulled out of evanescence, and points towards a profound understanding of despair and faith.

If you've had drama in your life, either your own or by someone close to you, the stages of pain this woman (but, in my opinion, it could easily have been a man too)goes through are very very real. It is a movie about not being able to cope with your pain, about not knowing what to do to help yourself get through it. Obviously it then also is a movie about not knowing how to help someone close to you get through their pain. It is a movie that makes you realize that everyone is alone in their suffering. It is a movie that might push someone over the edge...which hardly sounds like a recommendation. I'm not sure I would recommend someone to go see this film, especially someone close, but for me...it is a movie that puts things into perspective, that shows real pain, and is therefore much relevant to being alive. It makes you realize that hey, you or the person close to you have lived through pain, that hey, all the things you worry about now are of so little importance

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.