Past Lives Review: Celine Song's devastating debut scores one above all your multiverses
If you’re like me then chances are that tender moments of melancholia from Celine Song’s Past Lives still find themselves lingering in the crevices of your mind. Expect nothing less from the most beautiful story this year has had to offer.
Celine Song's debut film is a masterful exploration of love, destiny, and the intricacies of human connection. With its telling portrayal of characters grappling with the choices they've made and the roads not taken, the film stands out as one of the finest romantic dramas we’ve had the privilege of having witnessed in our lifetimes.
The film tells the story of Nora (Greta Lee) and Hae Sung (Teo Yoo) - childhood friends who reunite after many years apart, as they contemplate their relationship and the choices they've made in their lives.
As their story unfolds, Song artfully captures the profound emotions and unspoken desires that lie beneath the surface. The film's themes of love, destiny, and cultural identity are delicately interwoven, inviting viewers to reflect on the power of human connections and the weight of past decisions.
Past Lives shines in its nuanced portrayal of cultural identity and the complexities of navigating different worlds. Nora, a Korean-American, grapples with her heritage and the choices that have shaped her. The film juxtaposes her Western mindset with Hae Sung's more traditional Korean upbringing, offering a profound exploration of the clash between cultural backgrounds and the impact it has on their relationship.
Within this exploration, Song presents a contemplation of the roads not taken and other 'what if'-like lingering questions. The characters grapple with the choices they've made and the paths they could have followed, embracing the melancholy of unfulfilled desires and understanding that life is rarely simple or linear. They encourages viewers to reflect on their own lives and the significance of the choices they've made along the way.
While the film is primarily a love story, it goes well beyond the confines of romantic tropes. At its core, the film hinges on the notion of In-Yun - the Korean belief that encounters with others in our lives have roots in past lives.
With a deft touch, Song’s writing is brimming with anxieties, aches and pains; gracefully weaving in and around the idea of eternally intertwined lives with a transfixing playfulness that stuns us into silence (albeit grinning from ear to ear).
In Lee and Yoo, we're graced with some of the most palpable onscreen chemistry we've had in years, drawing us further and further into the quandary of their emotional journeys. Be it here or in Kelly Reichardt's latest cinematic ventures, John Magaro is an evergreen presence whose clement introspections are gifts that keep giving with excruciating authenticity.
Song's direction is marked by a graceful subtlety, as she carefully composes each shot and uses deliberate pacing to heighten the emotional impact. The film's smaller scale, with a limited number of characters and locations, creates an intimate atmosphere that allows its rich tapestry of ideas and emotions to take centrestage.
She demonstrates a great degree of confidence and trust in her cast, exemplified in how their physicality effectively conveys her artistic vision.
The subtle nuances in Nora's smiles differ noticeably between Hae and Arthur, with even something as inconsequential as their postures are bathed in meaning. Through their movements, seating positions, and facial expressions, Song's deliberate placement of characters within certain frames further enhances the effect, often opting for an off-centre positioning that reflects their restlessness or unease.
To reinforce these themes, she frequently employs slow pans, a recurring technique throughout the film. In many instances (and one of my personal favorites, ‘first encounter in New York’) two characters share the same space, and the camera leisurely transitions from one to the other, or sometimes even surpasses their movement, providing viewers with a comprehensive understanding of the environment surrounding them.
This attention to detail, from the choice of framing to the movements of the actors, adds “8,000 layers” of meaning to every scene, inviting us to engage with the film on a more delicate, profound level. It is the very same thoughtful approach to visual storytelling that rewards multiple viewings, unveiling new layers of meaning and motivations upon closer examination.
And pulling it all together are the freshers to the film scoring scene - Christopher Bear and Daniel Rossen of indie band Grizzly Bear fame.
Powerful cellos, poignant keys and messy synth melodies guide the duo's poignant original music which communicate multitudes across continents. As Song's movie effortlessly transitions between different eras and cities, the composers beautifully connect the senses and memories.
The film’s conclusion is very clearly a testament to its sensitive storytelling. A single cut to the past on the street brings together time and space, creating a sublime moment that encapsulates the essence of the film.
It defies expectations by not succumbing to the idealized notion of running away together and finding true love. Instead, it delves into the intricacies that define each relationship and the sometimes frustrating unpredictability and inevitability of being confined to your lives and destinies.
Past Lives is an intimate and deeply personal film that I’m sure will age like fine wine (especially come award season). Song's command over her craft brings together all these beautiful elements to create a desperate sense of restlessness and yearning that leaves you thinking, and thinking, and then thinking some more.
In a year of cinema that now feels nauseatingly oversaturated in its explorations of alternate lives, swapped destinies and the ‘multiverse’ of possibilities (barring certain Best Picture winners of course), it feels rejuvenating to witness grounded characters grapple within the confines of their fated lives with such gentle authenticity. Were we to indulge the concept of In-Yun, I’d sure hope that the strings of providence allow for me to experience this film in as many lives as I’m destined with.
We’re going with 5 out of 5 stars for Past Lives.