Columbus

The cinematography and music is as architectural as Columbus, Ohio. Every image is focused on and framed by the architecture present. This beautifully emphasizes the thing that brings the two leads together. While it isn't necessarily a shared interest, architecture becomes a means to discuss what ails their lives. They come to compliment each other, in their differences. They are both very real, honest, open characters. The dialog asks the big questions: Is work more important than family? Is family more important than going after your dreams? The characters play with these ideas and confide in each other's different experiences.

This movie is written, directed, and shot in the most architecturally stunning way. The performances are natural and honest. All around this is a must see. I cannot recommend it enough.

The architecture on display in Columbus, Indiana is beautiful in this film, and I loved the little signs of how it related to the characters and their feelings in various scenes. John Cho and Haley Lu Richardson play people who meet by chance, and despite their age difference, support one another as each is dealing with changes in life. They're both so unforced and simply fantastic, and neither the script nor their performances ever gives in to clichés about the relationship they form. I also loved Rory Culkin in this, especially in the scene where he's talking about attention spans and video games. It's all very intelligent and the shot compositions are routinely gorgeous, with director Kogonada making use of symmetry, blurred light, and mirrors to great effect. It is a bit on the ponderous side and thus may not be for everyone, but I really enjoyed it.

My wife and I watched this at home on DVD from our public library, which is fitting since the girl in the movie works in a library! Set in and filmed in Columbus, a small city of almost 50,000 in southern Indiana. Known for its architecture, that theme plays a strong role.

John Cho (about 44 during filming) is Jin from South Korea, he has come to Columbus after his father becomes very ill, too ill to fly back home. He has work to do, translating books from English to Korean, but is expected to stay for his dad who may or may not recover.

In his random wanderings he encounters Haley Lu Richardson (about 21 during filming) as Casey, recent high school graduate who chooses to stay in Columbus to be with her mom who is in a recovery process from drug use. She works part time in the Columbus library, she wants more but is uncertain how to get it.

This is a rather "quiet" movie, much of it has Jin and Casey getting to know each other, view architecture together, discuss its meaning, and ultimately what each wants in life. All this could naturally set up a romantic conclusion but it doesn't go there, he even mentions that he is much older than she.

We enjoyed the movie, it was interesting seeing the architecture, and as the movie ends we can see some development in Casey's path. A nicely worthwhile movie.

Much like the city that bears the film's name, Columbus is a rare unspoiled gem in a sea of same-old, same-old. It's a spellbinding whisper; a soulful, sweet and self-assured voice that you can only hear if you can calm your mind for long enough. The film takes something as simple as two strangers getting to know each other and elevates it to an art with unspoken spiritual dimensions. Every frame truly is a painting here. The colors on the palette – our actors and the man made wonders that occupy the space.

The film begins with the collapse of an elderly Korean scholar who was in town to give a talk on modernist architecture. He slips into a coma, anticipating the arrival of his son Jin (Cho). Jin in turn is forced to put his life in Seoul on hold as he waits for either the death or recovery of his estranged father. While this is happening, Casey (Richardson) a bright, kindhearted towny and unabashed lover of architecture approaches Jin while out for an afternoon stroll. The two kindle a friendship that subtly shifts their perspectives; a bond that is as deeply felt as it is melancholy.

No words can truly describe freshman writer-director Kogonada vision in this film. Dreamy, contemplative, ethereal – all worthy words in any context but in film they come not as adjectives but unfortunate value statements. We as a culture have silently, perhaps subconsciously ascribed these words to mean languid and boring, refusing to acknowledge any portents of purposeful design. I myself have fallen into this trap plenty of times. I've watched a grand total of three Yasujiro Ozu films over the course of my life, and all three times I have been left wanting.

Kogonada is certainly mimicking aspects of Ozu here, including a deeply wistful tone and using water as a leitmotif. But Kogonada's approach does have some stark differences. For one, large generational shifts in understanding are treated in an overall positive light. Casey's astute work friend Gabriel (Culkin) expounds with increasing clarity the idea that different interests and habits don't necessarily mean we lose sight of what's important. As the film meanders through its story, the camera holds lovingly on Indiana's strange architectural wonderland as if to say the wise and the eternal can coexist with the new and the modern. In its own unassuming way, Columbus almost acts like a critique of a critique.

Most of the time however, Columbus is a beautifully captured human story pure and simple. The odd coupling of John Cho and Haley Lu Richardson is reminiscent of Scarlett Johansson and Bill Murray in Lost in Translation (2003) only both are objectively less world-weary. As an actress of incredible, disarming vulnerability, Richardson fills every room, field and parking lot like a beam of sunlight. She's always had warmth to her popular performances but with Columbus she proves that she's much more than a pretty face. John Cho likewise is tremendous as the prickly and wounded Jin. The script requires that the narrative chips away at his tough exterior slowly. Thus all the guilt, anger and regret he wells up inside needs to stay just exposed enough to hold the audience interest. It's a harder thing to do than it looks but thankfully Cho pulls it off with aplomb.

If Columbus has any fatal flaws it strictly has to do with scale. The film dwells on the inscrutability of life and the beauty of the world if one only looks, but then folds all these ideas in a movie tacitly about daddy issues and life no longer being a tutorial. Additionally it can be argued that if this is a movie about looking, watching and appreciating, than why are we following two people who use looking, watching and appreciating architecture as a cudgel?

Personally when I watched Columbus I was struck by its serenity. It reminded me of a Lao Tzu poem I once read that more or less goes like this:

The supreme good is like water, Which nourishes all things without trying to. It is content with the low places that people disdain. This it is like the Tao. In dwelling, live close to the ground. In thinking, keep to the simple. In conflict, be fair and generous. In governing, don't try to control. In work, do what you enjoy. In family, be completely present. When you are content to be simply yourself And don't compare or compete, Everybody will respect you.

I really enjoyed this movie, even though it was easily the slowest paced movie I have ever seen. I'm not sure why this worked. It was almost as if the movie gave the viewer time to think about the characters because there were so many pauses in dialog. There was a mysterious "real life" experience to watching the movie, unlike any I had ever had before, and I found myself thinking about the characters for days afterwards in the way I might think about a puzzling friend. "Columbus" should have been boring, but it wasn't.