Past Lives
By Jordan Stump
A Magnificently Simple Yet Unrelentingly Devastating Romantic Epic
Past Lives is a crushingly beautiful piece of art. It’s a masterwork that is so delicately brushed to perfection and yet will leave you devastated and questioning every decision you’ve ever made. It’s a quiet and simple film that plays on the simple premise of your childhood sweetheart coming back into your life and leaving an endless amount of questions over what could have been. Celine Song's direction in this debut film is exquisitely put together as she wields her talents as precisely as a surgeon. Meanwhile, her delicate screenwriting guides us as it weaves us in and out of these people's lives just as we see them weave in and out of each other's lives.
Past Lives presents itself in 3 chapters sprawling across 24 years. In the first chapter, we see our main characters Na Young and Hae Sung as children, and we see an obvious sprout of young love. They’re far too young to fully understand it now, but it’s something they'll realize as they grow and look back. Their youthful joy is then crushed by the news that Na Young is immigrating to America, and they go their separate ways without being able to say goodbye. 12 years later, Na Young (Greta Lee), now anglicized as Nora, is living in New York as an aspiring playwright. Hae Sung (Yoo Teo) is an engineering student back in Korea and can't seem to get his childhood friend out of his head. As they begin to reconnect again, they are once again stripped from each other's grasps as life finds a way to get in between them. The film continues with yet another 12 year jump forward as we see Nora now in her mid 30s and married to a soft-spoken Jewish New Yorker named Arthur (John Magaro). One day, Hae Sung makes a fateful impromptu trip to New York post-breakup to finally reconcile with what could have been.
Past Lives has a solid premise, fantastic acting, and gorgeous technical aspects. However, due to how thought-provoking and nuanced it intends to be, it lives and dies by its script. Thankfully, as mentioned earlier, Song’s screenplay is incredible. It delicately takes its time to build and develop through the first half of the film, leaving you with breadcrumbs to sit with along the way, before paying everything off excellently in the film's final chapter. The idea of this film sliding across 24 years of life in just 3 chapters may sound clunky and rushed, but that is by impeccable design. The script doesn't make you feel like you’re missing anything, but at the same time you can physically feel time slipping away, just like our characters do. Song uses the idea of 인연 — a Korean word that literally means fate and is commonly used to describe people who are destined to meet or be with each other in some form due to their past lives crossing paths over and over again — to personify all these questions of what could be. As we see Nora and Hae Sung grapple with what their connection is, we see this play out in an extraordinarily palpable way. The film doesn’t take the initiative to answer any of these existential questions, but rather presents these ideas in ways that encourage you to draw your own conclusions based on your own past.
The cast of characters are afforded a lot of depth thanks to the script, but it’s the graceful performances that truly bring them to life. In particular, Greta Lee shines as our protagonist Nora. Lee immerses herself fully into the role of Nora, as we see her battle internally over what could have been and what could be. Nora can’t bear the possibility of immigrating a third time: after leaving South Korea for Canada and then leaving Canada for New York for her career, she can’t imagine moving once more because of a man she may have fallen for who lives in Seoul. Adding to her struggles is the fact that despite having a deep love for Hae Sung, she barely recognizes the person he has become. At the same time, though, he relates with her on a level that nobody else in her life has the ability to. Lee tackles these layered feelings with an admirable commitment that allows us to feel these emotions alongside her, whether it's her difficulty to understand her tangled feelings or her complex relationship with her identity as a Korean immigrant. John Magaro and Yoo Teo play magnificent opposites to Lee, as both share a magical chemistry with her and present a beautiful honesty with their characters without ever sliding into villain territory. The film doesn’t intend to conform to common romantic tropes of making anyone seem evil or having the viewer side with one or the other. Rather, it presents both sides as honest, real life people with real life situations and is all the better for it.
On a technical level, Past Lives continues to astonish. Grace Yun’s production design brings you through this journey along with our characters, which is enhanced by Shabier Kirchner’s stunning cinematography. Kirchner’s ability to put you right next to these people through the camera manages to make you feel the same feelings they are grappling with, and it is nothing short of magnificent. The orchestral score by Christopher Bear and Daniel Rossen is a beauty to be heard. As it builds to the final act, the score works in tandem with its script as it coerces you to feel as if you’re watching fate play out in ways unimaginable.
This film has touched me in ways few films are able to. It uncovered feelings I wasn’t aware of and made me consider new, profound ideas about my own life. This feels like a once-in-a-lifetime film that honestly feels like 인연 personified. Past Lives is, simply put, a magical film destined to keenly impact every viewer it crosses paths with.
10/10