--Louise Gluck
Alright, I want to preface this film review by saying that I hate going to movies with old people. They always choose to sit in the outermost seats at the theater even if the row is empty, forcing people to do the “kiss my ass-stare at my crotch” shuffle past them, because they are far too old and slow to actually stand up in a timely manner. Plus, each and every one of them has already formed an opinion of how good or bad the movie is going to be, before they even take their seats. Then they proceed to remind everyone around them how right they were from the beginning. Do not get me started on the constant standing up to use the bathroom 20 times during the film either. But, I guess I have to stomach all of this to see an excellent film whose lead is a 66 year old woman.
The simplicity of this poster belies the theme for the film. Lot's of subtext there. Pun intended.
Now that I have the old people tirade out of my system, I can now review the film.
As I waited for the movie to start, I noticed I was one of three people in the audience that were under the age of 30. The rest of the small audience were no younger than 55 at best, and all of the old men were very crotchety, clearly having been dragged by their wives for a Saturday at the movies. Suffice it to say, there were not many happy people in the audience for Poetry, but it didn’t stop me from enjoying the film and hating old people at the same time.
First and foremost, the trailer for Poetry was easily one of the most deceptive trailers I have ever seen. They make it look like it will be a heartwarming tale of a Korean woman who was recently diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and uses poetry as a way to come to terms with the affliction that will eventually kill her. To borrow a phrase from a radio engineer I once knew, “WRONG.”
The fact is the Alzheimer’s is referred to only twice and is really only a device that get’s the main character, Yang Mija (Jeong-hie Yun), to the hospital and involved in the actual plot of the movie, though it is not really necessary, because the plot of the film, in reality, comes to her. Without giving anything away, the movie is actually about an elderly Korean woman struggling to find a voice in society where she has none and has become comfortable with that role. But, she is forced into a position where she needs to have a voice. A girl in her grandson’s class kills herself by jumping off a bridge. Her grandson, whom she looks after, and his friends are implicated in causing this girl to commit suicide. Yang Mija is forced into a position where she must choose to either protect what is left of her small family and dealing with the empathy she feels for this girl and her mother.
There is a lot of subtext to this film, and the allusion of poetry is used to flesh some of this subtext out, but it is done in an incredibly culturally specific manner. Yang Mija is what Koreans would call Ajuma; an elderly woman, with no job, and a very unique sense of fashion. Ajuma are very strong-willed women that rule those around them with an iron fist and rapier tongue. They are respected as elders but at the same time they are still cast off, because they are old (serving no purpose in a modernized computer age) and women, who are supposed to be submissive to their male counterparts. It is a bit more complicated than that, but this is the best way I can explain the Ajuma in a simplified way based on what I have been told by people who live in Korea. I am sure they will correct me if I am wrong (and I hope they do).
The director Chang-dong Lee (Secret Sunshine, Oasis, Peppermint Candy) directs in a very deliberate style that screams of influence, whether it is intentional or not, of Akira Kurosawa (Seven Samurai, Yojimbo, Ikiru). Sound plays a very specific role in the film and just like Kurosawa, anything you hear in the movie was there for a reason. It also deals with quite a few taboo topics, and at many times you sense the strain of showing such taboo subject matter that was originally meant for a culture that does not discuss, matters of poverty, infirmity, death, crime or self-expression publicly. Korean society seems very orderly and when something throws off that order it is to be hushed up, but I guess that is universal because we certainly do this in the United States. But Chang-dong Lee and especially Jeong-hie Yun approach all of these subjects in a calculated, provocative, but tasteful manner.
On the surface the film is very simple in its development and production, but there is so much more below the surface, which is why I thought it was so fitting that the film began and ended with a river—calm and orderly on the surface, but with so much more below. But, again, the river, the poetry is all allusions to far greater aspects and plot twists that we just don’t get in American cinema anymore. The slow pacing of the film had me on edge at all times because, you constantly wanted to see where things would end, and when the end of the film does eventually come…you are still left guessing. And you are left guessing so much more than Inception could ever offer, because all of the plot holes that Inception attempts to cover up with mind numbingly fun action scenes, Poetry insists on making you guess and draw your own conclusions while covering all of its bases. This is a film that you can certainly watch a dozen times and come to a different conclusion each time.
One final and somewhat unrelated thought, after watching a number of Korean films, I have noticed and find it very interesting that depending on the film’s setting and proximity to Seoul, Seoul becomes more or less mythical. Seoul is the capital of South Korea and it has this manner of becoming its own character in the film, because the characters react to it as if it is a place to fear, a place where your dreams come true, or just a place that is simply better than anywhere else in Korea. Seoul almost appears to be a real life, Korean Emerald City. It is impersonal, powerful, and a place of awe when viewed from the outside. Or it is a place of business, corruption, and power when viewed internally. It is a very interesting dynamic, one well worth studying.
Making the Grade
Acting: The acting is very much based off of one character, as she is forced to appear isolated from her surroundings. Jeong-hie Yun does an excellent job of showing a woman who struggles to find the best parts of life, while maintaining a dignified public persona expected of her by culture. The beauty of the acting is that it is not overly powerful. Instead, it just looked like you were watching a woman go through the day. It was real and that is what made it so good. This is the sort of acting that would be completely ignored by the Academy. A-
Special Effects/Visuals: There were no special effect in this film; it was artistic and beautiful, without the need of bells and whistles, which was very refreshing. If Hemingway directed a movie it would probably look like this. The Kurosawa influences were prevalent, though I do not think they were intentional. A-
Music/Sound: There was really very little music and when there was it was almost meant to be out of place and draw your attention to it. The sound of this film was impeccable and especially since it was a foreign film where reading can sometimes take over other stimuli, the sound of the movie kept you very focused on the film as you read subtitles; a great compliment to the cinematography. A
Rewatchability: I would watch this movie over and over and still see something different each time. However, this film definitely seems to focus its attention on captivating the elderly audience and I am sure they would have a different opinion of the film, so age could be a limiting factor. B
Overall Grade: A-
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