ON THE BEACH AT NIGHT ALONE (Hong Sang-soo, 2017)

Yesterday the latest film from Hong Sang-soo opened wide here in Seoul (although with only one screening, at Emu Art Space, with English subtitles), coming off its win for Best Actress at the Berlin film festival last month. Normally, this release would be of interest only to a small group of people interested in Hong and/or art cinema more generally, but this time the controversy over Hong's affair with lead actress Kim Min-hee has led to a much larger popular interest, although we'll still have to see the ultimate box office numbers. As a long-time admirer of Hong's movies, I'm glad for the increased exposure, and the film itself is overall quite strong, although, as I'll discuss, I think the ending is rather misjudged.

(Spoilers ahead)

First, some aspects of the film I really loved. Kim Min-hee's performance is excellent, and Hong certainly benefits from having such a magnetic presence fill his movie. She is present in almost every scene, and combines the movie star glamour the role needs with an ability to convey deeper emotions and internal conflicts, a quality she also displayed in her previous Hong collaboration, Right Now, Wrong Then. Also, I find Hong is often at his best with a strong female protagonist, and this is one of his few films with a clear female lead, as well as a number of strong actresses in supporting roles. The typical Hong males are still around, but much more at the margins.

On the Beach At Night Alone is also, as one may guess from the title, considerably darker and more disturbing than Hong's more recent work and harkens back more to his earlier films in its tone. As has been often noted in early reviews, the movie clearly addresses the recent scandal of Hong's personal life, and this real-life context cannot help but impact the viewing experience. However, Hong has been making this story, of an older married man and his relationship with a younger woman, for many years now. Ironically, the relationship between Hong and Kim Min-hee is far less problematic than the professor-student transgressions of the earlier narratives. The scandal is not so much the adultery itself, but its acknowledgment. That said, because the film concentrates on the female perspective, there is a greater melancholy and even menace to the work. Hong includes a few surrealistic touches, as he often does, much as a man whose presence on the character's balcony is never really explained, but here the effect is not simply comic but more unsettling. This is compounded by the many references to death in the dialogue, particularly one sequence in which Younghee (Kim Min-hee) discusses facing her life's inevitable conclusion in words that seem much closer to those of an older man like Hong himself, who has suffered health problems in recent years. All of this combines to give the movie an emotional resonance often missing from his more recent. works.

My main objection to the movie is a long final sequence in which Younghee and the director whom she had an affair (played by Hong veteran and frequent surrogate Moon Sung-keun) finally meet. We have heard this character discussed throughout, and I think Hong makes a mistake in having the character appear (even if it is, we see, most likely a dream). Not that Hong necessarily uses the character to justify himself; the depiction is rather critical and pathetic, although there is a fine line between self-critique and narcissism. The problem is that the character works far better as an absence, an almost Godot-like figure whom we never meet. The movie is much more interesting because it is about the female perspective, and the intrusion of the character, even if it is in her sub-conscious, is an unfortunate reversal of that emphasis.

That major objection aside, this is a very good film and one I'm anxious to revisit, perhaps again in the next week. It is showing at Emu until at least next Wednesday, 3:30 on Saturday and Sunday (part of a whole day of Kim Min-hee films, all subtitled), and 6:40 Monday-Wednesday.

The UP Series

Over the past two weeks, I went through the entire eight film "Up" series from director Michael Apted. Beginning in 1964 with a short 50 minute television episode about a dozen or so British seven year olds from various strata of British society, Apted has returned to the group every seven years since, up to the most recent installent, 56 Up, released in 2012. From 21 Up forward, the documentaries became feature length, settling in to an average of roughly 2-2.5 hours. Watching the installements in a short, condensed binge had its advantages and disadvantages. The biggest downside is that the repetitive overviews that are necessary for viewers returning to these characters after a seven year absence are unnecessary, and I began to think that the movies could be usefully re-edited into a series of documentaries of each character. That said, the effect of watching the films all at once perhaps increased one's identification of the people on screen and made for a deeper understanding of how they evolved.

Ultimately, there is nothing special about the filmmaking here, as it is pretty straight forward expository style. In fact, this is a bit of a disadvantage, and the times in which Apted switches to the participatory mode are often the best moments. For this reason, I thought 49 Up was the best of the bunch, as it includes more moments when the participants challenge Apted and his representation. The series really depends on the gimmick of returning to these people every seven years, and benefits from the fact that each character is rather distinct, although some are certainly more compelling than others.

The star of the series is Neil, who we see as a happy and talkative seven year old but who between the ages of 14 and 21 clearly experiences some mental health diffculties and spends the years between 21 and 42 in various states of homelessness. However, by the time he reaches 42, his life has stablized, never to the point where he holds down a steady job or family, but much less dire than we originally feared. Next would be Tony, a working class kid from the East End of London who has a great deal of on-screen charisma (and even did some small acting roles in other series in England). Tony goes from his dream of being a jockey to becoming a successful London cabbie, getting married and having a family. What makes Tony compelling is his honesty and willingness to share his private life and troubles, including his infidelities as well as his raw emotion over losing his parents. One gets the sense that this is connected to his working class background and his desire to avoid any pretensions.

The class aspect is best exemplified in the reluctance of the upper class characters to participate as fully. There are three private school boys, John, Andrew and Charles. After the 21 Up program, John and Charles both refused to participate. John did return for 35 and then again for 49 and 56. The program seemed in some ways beneath them, or exposed their class priviledge in a way that made them uncomfortable. Andrew, the one who continued to participate, is also maybe the blandest person on the show. Maybe this is just his natural character and he is a boring guy, but it may also be connected to a certain reserve he has in front of the camera, a desire to not say anything controversial. John, by contrast, comes off quite negatively early on, but redeems himself in later installements through his charity work. However, some of the working class characters are also critical of how they are portrayed. The three working class girls, Jackie, Lynn, and Susan, for example, often challenge how they are seen by Apted, especially Jackie in 49 Up. Thorughout the series, these participants are aware of how they are being turned into characters, and thus character types, seen as representative, and they resent this and try to resist however they can.

My personal favorites of the series were Nick and Suzy, who interestingly are interviewed together briefly in the most recent 56 Up. They both grew up in country-side environments, although Suzy came from much more privilege. Suzy was fascinating in that she seemed to age in reverse. At age 7, she sounded like an adult, and by 21 was chain-smoking and had an edgy, cynical view of life. But from 28 forward, she became this very warm presence, much more open and child-like than when she was young. Nick, on the other hand, I identified with because of personal connections, since he is also a professor who moved abroad in order to do his research and teaching. I also found both Paul and Symon fascinating, the two boys who spent time in a state-run housing program because of family problems when they were seven. Paul struggled his whole life with confidence issues but found happiness in marriage and family living in Australia. Symon was the only racial minority of the group, and went on, in his second marriage, to become a foster parent and try to help children who were in a similar position to himself.

In 56 Up, there was the return of Peter, who dropped out after 28, claiming that his critical views of Thatcher in that episode led to a great deal of harassment. He returns partly out of self-interest, as he is a musician trying to promote his music, but also, one suspects, because enough time had passed that few would care about his past views. His story provides a microcosm of the series as a whole, as in many ways the participants have a type of love-hate relationship with the fame associated. Many complain about the burden and regret their parents' decision to allow Apted to choose them, but few fail to continue to participate. As Suzy puts it, it's like a bad novel but you still want to keep reading to find out what happens. There is a level of "Big Brother" style voyeurism to the series, but I believe it is deeper than that. The series goes beyond the characters on screen and makes one think about themselves and people they know. As someone now 42 and who has parents around the same age as these participants, I could not help imagine how I would have appeared if featured, and how much I would have been interested in seeing a similar series about my own family members. But, I also recognize that I am glad that neither myself nor people I know were chosen for such a project.