Mulher na praia

Needing a quiet, relaxing environment in which to complete the script for his latest film, well-known director Kim Jung-rae heads to a largely deserted seaside resort with his friend, Won Chang-wook, and Won's beautiful girlfriend, Kim Mun-suk. Tensions quickly develop when Kim and Mun-suk become romantically involved with one another, leaving the erstwhile Won as essentially odd-man-out. Yet, terrified of making any kind of long term commitment, Kim backs away from Mun-suk at a crucial moment, causing a serious rupture in their relationship. It's only after a second woman comes into the picture that Mun-suk returns to the beach town, further complicating Kim's already complicated life - though providing possible fodder for the script he's having such a hard time completing.

Slow-moving, episodic and hypnotic, the Korean drama "Woman on the Beach" is wonderfully perceptive about human nature and the multi-faceted and complex ways in which people relate to one another. It's virtually impossible to pigeonhole any of the characters since they often act and react in ways that surprise and intrigue us. Director Sang-soo Hong relies largely on extended conversations to tell his story, an approach which allows the drama to unfold in a thoroughly naturalistic fashion, without having to resort to melodrama or contrivance to get its points across. To that end, the movie is filled with numerous seemingly irrelevant, off-the-cuff moments (including the final scene) that add immeasurably to the verisimilitude of the piece. As a result, every moment in the film feels unscripted and real, an illusion greatly enhanced by the excellent performances of Seung-woo Kim, Hyun-jung Go, Seon-mi Song and Tae-woo Kim.

Finally, the shuttered hotels and sparsely populated beaches and boardwalks provide an eerily appropriate backdrop for this tale of an individual so haunted by the demons and ghosts of his own past that he finds it difficult to live in the present.

It has been said that in America sex is an obsession, while in Europe it is a fact. If the characters in Sang-Soo Hong's Woman on the Beach are representative, it is also an obsession in Korea.

In the film, the male lead, film director Jung-Rae Kim, has affairs with two women, Moon-Sook and Sun-Hee, during a spring weekend at a seafront resort. Late in the film, when the two women meet for lunch, they ask each other about their deepest fears. One says it is obsession; for the other it is betrayal. These two themes, embedded within the overriding question of whether life is truly better in the new affluent Korea, dominate the 2 hours and 7 minute version of the movie that was shown at the Philadelphia Film Festival.

According to IMDb the American version is only 1 hour and 40 minutes, and indeed, for American tastes, much could have been shortened. For example, the scene in which one of Moon-Sook sees Director Kim with the other woman, Sun-Hee, through the resort's picture window that overlooks the sea. She gets into her car parked beneath the window, starts the engine, and for an interminable minute, we watch the car sitting there with the engine running. Finally she turns off the engine and walks away. Powerful stuff? Well, not for this American moviegoer.

Indeed Director Hong beats the viewer over the head with symbolism to make sure no one misses his points. A white dog abandoned by the side of the road represents the betrayal that all the key players show toward one another. A bicyclist left choking on the dust of a passing car is just one reminder that the new Korea is not always better than the old. But when it comes to showing obsessions, Hong outdoes himself. In one scene, Director Kim draws a triangle on a napkin to graphically display the three images of his former wife's affair with a friend that obsess him. Only now he has something new to obsess over, for Moon-Sook admits she had two or three sexual encounters with foreigners when she lived in Germany. Were their dicks bigger than mine, he wonders. New dots on the napkin to obsess over! Ah, he must have new affairs to create new images in his mind so that he can replace the old triangles of obsession with new dots that create a more hopeful shape. Why doesn't he just see a therapist, we ask.

Hong is a talented director and the film gives Western audiences a feel for Korean obsessions and angsts. For that it's worth seeing, but after sitting through 127 minutes of beachfront betrayal and recriminations by people who are not really that likable—kind of the Korean equivalent of the self-obsessed New Yorkers in Squid and the Whale, I'm not quite ready to see Hong's earlier works, such as The Day a Pig Fell into the Well.

I confess to not having seen any of this director's films, but on the basis of this, I probably won't bother. This is the story of a writer/director with writers block who basically treats women like garbage so he can find his muse and regain his creativity. Actually, he treats just about everyone in this film like garbage.I guess it is hero worship, because I couldn't understand why these seemingly intelligent women would fall for this fairly obnoxious, boorish individual. Set on a resort beach in Korea seemingly out of season, there is very little to do, so the lead character becomes mean to everyone around him. Perhaps the maker of this film felt the point was that there are two kinds of people, those who give and those who take. The two women the lead character spends time with are pathetic. I had high hopes for the character Moonsook, who in the beginning showed promise. She should have been a stronger character. The director keeps calling her very pretty/beautiful (see is pretty, but not beautiful), but then he treats her like dirt, calling her stupid twice. He gives writers a bad name. If the filmmaker's idea was to assuage some guilt he himself has, fine. He should have made a better film. This film is full of forced, vacuous dialog. I know I'll probably be in the minority on the opinion on this film, but I am a big Asian film fan and this one left me cold. Many times I pondered leaving the theater. In the audience of about 20 people there were maybe three chuckles from the dialog. I'd like to see the actress who plays Moonsook in another role. She probably is a good actress, but her character is useless. I shook my head a little at the people who were waiting in line for the next showing. If you're a fan of this filmmaker, maybe you're used to his kind of storytelling. I wanted to like it, and the reviews were mostly favorable. Mine isn't, regrettably.

There are only a handful of filmmakers working today of whom it can truly be said that each film of theirs takes us into a world instantly recognizable as the product of that filmmakers' mind. Claire Denis certainly comes to mind, as do such masters as Aleksandr Sokurov, Kim Ki-duk, Tsai Ming-liang, Catherine Breillat, and Michael Haneke.

Although his films haven't rec'd the same distribution in the U.S. as those esteemed names mentioned above, add Hong Sang-soo to that list. I've loved everything I've seen from him -- especially Woman Is The Future of Man -- but it was seeing Woman on the Beach recently at the Toronto Film Festival that confirmed him in my mind as one of the most assured hands in film today. His vision of modern life -- neurotic, self-obsessed urban adults still struggling with childish hang-ups as they attempt to balance careers and relationships with lust and alcoholism -- comes through vividly in this film, first with washes of warm humor and later with squrim-worthy insights into modern relationships.

It's tempting to make a comparison to Woody Allen in his late-'70s prime, and yet the humor here is subtler and more complex, with a sly contemporary sophistication all its own -- and the humor gives way to resonant drama more naturally than in most of Allen's work. Some characters get only a minute or two of screen time, yet feel more alive to me than leading characters in lesser films. What's more, it's also an exquisitely shot film, with an emotionally evocative setting likely to stick in your mind long after the lights come up.

Other than Apichatpong Weerasethakul's "Syndromes and a Century," a film just as effective and affecting (although in very different ways), "Woman on the Beach" was the film that stood out to me the most from the 15 or so I saw at this year's Toronto Int'l Film Fest. Both films are film-art of the highest order, the kind of rich, challenging art-house fare that Wellspring would have given a U.S. theatrical run were they still around. Perhaps someone else will step up to the plate -- Palm Pictures, maybe, or Plexifilm? Here's hoping; movies like this one deserve to be seen all over the world -- and not just on home video!

Where Hong Sang-soo's dramas differ from Eric Rohmer's, other than all the ways that come with being Korean not French, is notably in the egotism mitigated by irony of having one the main characters in his movies often happen to be a handsome, hunky famous director. In this one it's a "Director Kim," as he's respectfully addressed (Kim Joong-rae, played by Kim Seung-woo) who goes to the somewhat sterile environment of the semi-deserted Shinduri beach resort on Korea's west coast with his production designer, Won Chang-wook (Kim Tae-woo) in hopes of ending a creative block and penning the treatment for his next film. Won brings along a girlfriend, composer Kim Moon-sook (Ko Hyun-joung, a former TV star) and competition gets blatantly going when Director Kim takes Moon-sook aside and frankly says he's interested in her and asks her whether she'd prefer him over the designer, given a free choice.

The blatancy of Joong-rae's authority is underlined by his being older, better-looking, physically bigger and stronger-looking, and possessed of a deeper voice. In comparison Won's a mild, slightly nerdy fellow. But despite that, Joong-rae's not an out-and-out winner. He's comically chauvinistic in the way he damns the lady's music with faint praise. And in the time that follows he proves to be neurotic and indecisive, stuffing his hands in his jeans and wiggling around on his legs with comic unease. Moon-sook's dating men when living in Germany he admits is a turn-on for temporary dating, but the opposite for a long-term relationship. He has a serious hangup about mating with a woman who's experienced. Like a good Eric Rohmer character, he hesitates and they discuss. Moon-sook winds up saying that he's wonderful to her as a director, but in other ways just "a typical Korean man." Hong's stories often refer to sex and show couples in bed, but they aren't erotic and characters rarely go all the way. Kim and Moon-sook do however begin with some long kisses on the beach that evening.

At another point Director Kim has a violent outburst of anger at a restaurant the trio enters because the owners are half asleep when they come in, and Chang-wook gets equally over-the-top in anger over the injustice of this and insists Kim must apologize. This seems random, except to show that both men have little control over their male egos, and tend to flail about, while the lady remains cool and composed.

In spite of all this Moon-sook becomes fascinated with Kim and they spent a night in an empty hotel room, but the next day Kim says it's too quiet for him to work and they all leave Shinduri. Two days later Kim's back on his own though, and leaves a phone message with Moon-sook, regretting his indecisiveness. He "interviews" a woman he runs into who "reminds" him of Moon-sook and takes her up to the same room he was in two nights earlier. Things get complicated when Moon-sook herself reappears and has a drunken emotional outburst outside the room. The new woman eventually feels hurt and abandoned too. In the midst of all this there's a cute dog that gets abandoned by a mysterious couple, and Director Kim pulls an "unused muscle" and is temporarily disabled. Lots of snacking and drinking to a drunken state accompanies all these developments. By himself and with his leg semi-paralyzed Kim somehow turns out the film treatment. The relationships seem unresolved, but Moon-sook is by herself at the end leaving Shinduri again in her little car, which symbolically gets stuck in the sand and then gets out again so she can drive off on her own, free.

Woman on the Beach differs from previous Hong films in presenting its few main characters in the relative isolation of this new, somewhat drab resort during a cold spring season. The atmosphere is well used and the scenes are vivid. This film of Hong's is perhaps even more inconclusive than most, and a bit long, but the rhythms of the conversations and the clarity of the blocking and editing arouse one's admiration and this, like all Hong's films, is original and watchable and will not disappoint his fans – which include the selection committee of the Film Society of Lincoln Center: they've been choosing his latest film as one of the NYFF's primary offerings every year for three years in a row. It's also true that Hong's improvisational way of working always results in fluid, convincing performances by his actors.