Have you ever wondered if there could be a deep, invisible bond between two people that comes from a past life? It is simply so strong that it cannot be accidental or merely impulsive. The attachment is so well established that there must be a reason for it. It must exist without touch, without common goals, without anything. It must.
Let’s say you have one of these people in your life, and now you meet again to finish what you started…
Has something similar happened to you? When you felt like you knew him?
If so, have you just moved on with your life, or have you stopped for a moment to reflect on this strange feeling? Perhaps you even experienced an old, unfinished story being revived in the present?
These are the questions raised by the film I’ve brought you, and which resonate deeply with anyone who has ever felt the strange attraction to what is known in Korean culture as “injon”. From “injon” which denotes fateful encounters and connections from past lives, is so powerful that it can span time and space, reconnecting those whose stories once began but never ended or are still unfinished.
As we follow the story, we are left to wonder how our choices in life shape our destiny, and whether we are puppets of our own “selves”…
This film is not just a simple portrayal of romance or relationships, but a deeper journey into the mystical world of cultural identity, personal past and the intertwining of past lives.
But let’s start at the beginning, with the first injon. 😊
A few days ago I had a very interesting and moving cinema experience. Sometimes you don’t want horror, action or spectacle. You just want value. I usually want the latter. Probably because I like the depths, the weights, the heavy breaths. But at least I’m attracted to them.
I had another movie all day, and then the evening came. (We’re talking about an arthouse cinema, I didn’t have to worry about missing it even without a reservation). I figured before leaving, I’d make a reservation just so I could walk around the boulevard knowing exactly which seat I’d be using that day. Then this film came into view. I saw the poster, but I didn’t read the title. There was no need.
The girl who presents herself as firm and strong, the boy who wiggles his fingers in embarrassment, the 2 eyes that look at each other with a deep and elemental longing and love, as if they were standing in front of the altar… Yet they sit far away, in relation to the attraction. They don’t embrace, they don’t hold hands, just the toe of her sneaker gently touches his thigh. Wonderful!
The infinite acceptance that is in those eyes… I immediately booked a seat. I arrived excited, knowing that I was in for a special treat that evening. An experience that would find me in the right place at the right time.
Celine Song’s film “Past Lives” was (or should we call it a work of art) a fascinatingly complex, emotionally rich work that weaves together deep human stories about cultural and personal identity and past relationships.
The film follows the story of Nora and Hae Sung’s childhood friendship, which is interrupted by an unexpected event when Nora’s family moves to Canada.
They didn’t have time to say goodbye, but because they were children, they didn’t have the ability. I should note here that it is not easy as an adult, in fact.
Years later, as adults, an accidental Facebook post reunites them (though not accidental on his part, as he has been consciously looking for her for years), opening a new chapter in their lives and an opportunity to revisit and perhaps heal the wounds of the past.
The film’s two protagonists meet again (online and then physically once) at different stages of their lives, and each encounter gives a deeper insight into their lives, their feelings and the changes that have defined them over the years. Through long Skype conversations (they had no other options), Song deftly depicts the complex relationship between technology and human relationships, where screens both mediate and constrain the expression of emotions.
Yet, we can speak of real emotion even if it has not personally ignited in its ripe and unlivable ember.
His direction also pays particular attention to visual composition. The film’s style is minimalist yet sensitive, emphasising the quiet moments between the characters – of which there are many, allowing us to fully experience the very strong and defining emotions behind the dialogue.
Some things are so beautiful that they should not even be said. Don’t lose its power, its specialness, by leaving our lips. But not everything needs to be said. I believe that something is only precious when it’s in the air. Once it is spoken, once we hear it out loud, it is no longer the same. It’s no longer a secret. It is no longer a mystery.
The camera often remains still, adding to the meditative mood of the scenes.
But this stillness is not disturbing, in fact! You yourself become immobile. You get lost in it, and you cheer for it not to end, for it to last forever, but at least for something lasting to come out of the moment. Don’t let it pass, like so many other moments.
Cultural and psychological layers
The notion of “injon”, which denotes fate and predetermined relationships in Korean culture (one might call it providence), is mentioned several times in the film’s narrative. This concept not only influences the relationship between the two protagonists, but also shapes the viewers’ interpretive framework as they ponder their life choices and their consequences. This cultural element is used in the film to explore, or at least to interpret more closely, the deeper spiritual dimensions of relationships and human interactions. To interpret it in its place.
But then what is an “injon”?
The “injon” (인연 or 인존) is rooted in Buddhist philosophy, where the law of reincarnation and karma states that people can meet several times in different lifetimes, and that “injon” is the result of such relationships. The different layers.
The character development depicted in the film is a reflection of the internal and external changes that have shaped Nora and Hae Sung’s lives over the years. Nora, who is building a writing career in New York – a highly successful, determined, lucky and beautiful woman – and Hae Sung, who remains in Korea – cannot be described as unsuccessful, but their lives are not nearly what they had imagined, they go their separate ways (completely different types of personalities, in a completely different world), but when they meet again, their old closeness is immediately rekindled. This dynamic highlights how distance and time can preserve and at the same time change relationships.
The basic philosophical issues of the film, such as inevitable fate, the consequences of life choices, and the “what if” thoughts, permeate the narrative. But it doesn’t make the atmosphere oppressive. It’s sad, but it’s so beautifully sad. If there is any beautiful sadness at all. But if there is, it’s like this! 🙂
Speaking of past lives, it goes without saying that we are constantly jumping around in space and time, but even that is nice. It has its place. It makes sense.
This is an extremely complex (and not easy or simple) film that goes beyond a simple love story. It is an in-depth exploration of human relationships, cultural identity, and the interconnections between life paths.
Song is a master of cinematic language and psychological analysis to take viewers into the depths of emotion, while also seeking answers to philosophical questions. But I don’t want to shoot all the gunpowder, there are even more layers… 😉
What is certain is that “Past Lives” is a unique and lasting experience. I heartily recommend it!
Aletta Nagy-Kozma
