Dir: Chu Chang-min 2006. Stars: Sol Kyung-gu
Thu 25 May 2006, 8:50pm, Prince Charles Cinema
Sobbing drunk or cursing the love that has left you — Or going off to the military to escape from reality — Or getting into a rebound relationship to avoid loneliness — Have you ever let go of the love of your life? Have you suffered heartache for losing “the one” because of your indecisiveness? Is there anyone you picture in your head once in a while? Here there is a man and a woman who had no idea about their feelings for each other. They’ve been friends, without knowing the feelings they’ve had deep inside their hearts. Or maybe they’d known but could not confess. And they eventually meet again after years gone by. The movie Lost In Love is about such love. And about “them” who have suffered from such love. About the never-ending relation in which they meet, separate and meet again.
Links:
- imdb entry on Lost in Love
One Comment
“Dull, dull, dull” is how I thought this review would read as I watched the first half of this film last night. It got better, but not much. This is a story about a non-relationship. There were some great observations about emotional inarticulacy, such as the awkward silence, not knowing what to say, the morning after. There was a poignant line spoken by the lead male (Sol Kyung-gu): “How can this end? It never really started.” I’m sure that someone is going to tell me that all this stuff about being unable to express one’s feelings properly is all to do with han. And, by coincidence, the lead male character’s family name is Han. But I say what the characters really need is a good slap in the face and to be told to pull themselves together and get on with it. And Han’s father agrees with me: in the only scene we meet him, he comes to visit his son, cursing himself for bringing a Red Cross food parcel containing mother’s kimchi. And despairing of his son’s general uselessness with women he’s trying to arrange a marriage for him. There was a moment when part of my brain knew I should be crying (yes, I do sometimes cry during a good weepy Korean melodrama), and I could feel some surplus water dutifully building up ready to trickle down the tear-duct to my eye. But instead of a tear came a snort of exasperation.
Post a Comment