Celine Song's Past Lives (2023) is all about subtlety and restraint. It quietly examines the lives and choices of three people who are confronted with a poignant "what if" situation. The script never stumbles into melodramatic territory, carefully guiding us through moments that are (almost painfully) relatable. That makes it sound like a sad story, and it's not, really, but it does have a bittersweet ending of sorts. That is probably not the most enthralling description, yet I found the film to be involving and deeply moving.
The camera observes the characters in such a way that you could be fooled into thinking that this is some kind of documentary and forget that you're watching professional actors at the top of their game. The story seems so true to life, so gentle in the telling, that we walk away surprised at how much we've been affected.
The story begins in Korea, with twelve-year-old classmates Na Young and Hae Sung. They have an easy friendship and behave as real children. One minute they're close as can be, the next they're annoyed with each other. Kids make emotional connections very easily and can make offhand comments that unknowingly hurt someone's feelings. We've all had or have seen childhoods like this. The two classmates seem destined to be lifelong friends until Na Young's family immigrates to Canada.
The story picks up twelve years later, when Na Young, renamed Nora (Greta Lee), reconnects with Hae Sung (Teo Yoo) online. They rekindle their friendship, video chatting on a regular basis, with Hae Sung still in Korea and Nora now living in New York City. This goes on for a bit, and it's clear they enjoy spending time talking. After a while, though, it becomes evident that neither one seems ready to drop everything and move to another country so they can be together. Norea eventually decides that they need to give their friendship a break so she can focus on her work as a writer. Hae Sung is more obviously upset, while Nora hides her tears, but they both agree that maybe it's for the best.
Another twelve years pass by, as they do, in the blink of an eye. (After a certain age we all learn that time seems to pick up speed; it's only when we're children that time seems infinite.) By this time, Nora has been married for seven years to Arthur (John Magaro), a fellow writer she met at a writer's retreat in Montauk. It turns out that Hae Sung has made contact again and is planning to visit New York City. The story now appears to have all the pieces in place for a classic love triangle that ends happily for two people and with heartbreak for the third. But Song is too clever for that. Things don't happen like that in real life as much as they do in movies, and Song knows this.
The scene where Nora and Hae Sung meet in person for the first time in twenty-four years is a lesson in subtlety. As the camera follows them through scenic New York locations (exactly the kinds of places a resident would take a visiting friend), the two friends seem surprised to be in each other's presence again. Their conversations are punctuated by frequent, long looks at each other, the kind that add many more layers to what is being said. That doesn't mean the actors overdo it in any way. As I said before, this movie is all about restraint. There is a graceful quality to the roles that are embodied and amplified by the actors.
When Nora and Arthur discuss the situation, their conversation goes to a smarter, higher, more thoughtful level than I expected. Arthur is an intelligent, kind, decent, and understanding partner to Nora. More than any other role in the story, his could have been the most predictable, yet even he brings unexpected dimensions to the table. How Arthur reacts to Hae Sung is a key moment in the film but not overplayed.
We've been conditioned by movies over the years to assume that Nora and Hae Sung are destined to be together, and discussions throughout the story of the Korean concept of inyun can fool us into thinking we know where this story is headed. But it's so much more complicated than that. This is not some robust "love of my life" romance, although it may look like that at first glance. Celine Song's story is an original, much deeper and more delicate than conventional love stories. And a whole lot more realistic, once you think about it.
According to Google, "inyun is a Korean concept that signifies fate or providence, specifically regarding relationships. Rooted in Buddhism and reincarnation, it describes an invisible, destined connection that binds two people across multiple lifetimes, suggesting that even brief encounters are the result of past connections." This is mentioned a few times during the movie, and it's interesting to note which characters find hope and meaning in the idea and which ones don't.
(Spoilers from here.) As critic Justin Chang pointed out, "...it's Hae Sung, self-identifying as an 'ordinary,' traditional specimen of Korean manhood, who makes the movie's boldest romantic gesture." But it's obvious that Hae Sung's intention is not to swoop in and take Nora away, thus destroying her marriage and leaving Arthur shattered. He likes Arthur, and I think that helps him get through the final moments of the film. He never says it out loud, but it's clear that he loves Nora, and I think he finds comfort knowing that she's married to such a good man.
There have been countless interpretations of the final scene. As Nora and Hae Sung say goodbye, he brings up inyun one last time, then gets into his Uber and drives away. Nora walks back to her apartment, where she is met by Arthur, patiently waiting, and she breaks down in tears.
In a TikTok video, writer/director Celine Song explains that Hae Sung is glad to say goodbye to his friend. Although he probably wishes things had been different, it gives him closure and he seems almost hopeful as he faces the future. Nora has the more emotional response, finally saying goodbye to not only her childhood friend, but to the twelve-year-old girl she used to be, the one that left Hae Sung behind in Korea, and probably didn't realize that she needed to say goodbye to that part of herself. Justin Chang again: "For Nora, Hae Sung is at once a soulfully handsome face, a loving friend, a piercing reminder and maybe the one man on the planet who can begin to see her in her totality."
The ending of the film is obviously not an ending for the characters. There's so much to consider, so much worth pondering. The best stories cause us to reflect upon our own lives, maybe to look at things in a different way, to reevaluate and to grow. What a lovely story this is, with characters who emanate worthy qualities as they navigate through life and teach us a few things along the way. One last quote from Justin Chang: "You leave this movie grateful to have lived alongside these characters to this point, and wondering about the infinite possibilities that lie ahead."