Jonah Naplan   June 24, 2023

“Past Lives” calls for an intimately personal look inside the lives of its characters, so I think it’s rather fitting for me to describe the exact context in which I am writing this review right now.

I saw “Past Lives” at a 6:20 p.m. showtime at a theater about twenty minutes away from my house. As of writing these words, it is now 9:55 p.m. I’ve been staying up super late the last few nights, and in fact, I didn’t even start the movie I watched last night until 9:00 p.m. on the dot. To follow that, I watched about the first half of the excellent “John Wick: Chapter 4,” and got so caught up in the movie’s action that I didn’t end up turning it off to take a shower and get ready for bed until well after 1:00 a.m. I was woken up early this morning (earlier than I would have preferred, at least) leaving me with only about seven hours of sleep under my belt. To some, that’s a fortunate amount. But for me, I’ve been recently sleeping my life away to sometimes eleven hours a night. I’m considerably exhausted at the moment. I’ll likely write a few paragraphs of this review tonight (including the one you’re currently reading) and then hit the hay to finish it up tomorrow.

I’m typing these words on the desktop computer in my dad’s office. I asked if I could use his work laptop (that he is not currently using) instead, so I could write more conveniently in my bedroom, but I was denied that privilege. So I’m stuck here. My mother is reading in bed in the room attached to this alcove. She’ll likely ask me to leave once she decides to go to sleep so my typing doesn’t disrupt her slumber. I hope to get a laptop of my own before the end of summer so I don’t have to worry about things like that anymore, and I can write in my own space, on my own sleep schedule.

I can hear running water in the distance, suggesting that my brother is currently taking a shower in the hallway bathroom that he and I share. And upon going downstairs, I find that CNN is playing on the TV, yet my father is lounging asleep on the couch—a common occurrence, to be sure.

I certainly would not write about such things (at least in such detail) in the opening paragraphs of a review of, say, “Fast X,” but “Past Lives” is so intimately moving—so personally afflicting—that an “orthodox” hook just wouldn’t do. This is a special film, and a marvelously moving feature debut from Korean-Canadian writer and director Celine Song. It is not the typical foreign language film, nor the usual American. It is a lovely, heartful, joyous, charming, subtle, and quietly devastating picture.

Imagine for a second that you were to reunite with a long lost loved one. So many questions still to ask. So many hugs left to give. So much unturned wisdom to obtain. That figure for me would be my grandfather—a funny, loving, and deeply knowledgeable man, whose knack for the written word I most likely inherited. That bittersweet mirage, tears and all, physically manifests in the form of “Past Lives.” But the conditions are different.

This film almost entirely revolves around only two characters, occasionally three. Such are Korean immigrant Na Young—name changed to Nora—(Greta Lee) and Hae Sung (Teo Yoo). The epochal “Past Lives” is a saga of their relationship that spans 24 years. It begins in the suburbs of their heritage country, when the two are only but twelve-year-old schoolchildren. Early in their youth, they each develop a little crush on one another, and undergo their first “date,” as the film calls it; their moms watching curiously in the foreground. Their romance is not being forbidden or kept in secret—it’s encouraged.

With that sweet context, it’s heartbreaking for Hae Sung to find out that Na Young’s family has decided to immigrate to Canada in search for a new life, just as their premature relationship begins to look promising. They split up abruptly, indicated by only a shallow and tragic “Bye.” In the next twelve years that follow, the two each carry on with their own lives—Na Young building her reputation as an aspiring playwright in the Big Apple, Hae Sung serving his mandatory military requirements as he resides somberly back in Korea, always longing to reconnect with his first love.

It’s not until Nora—I’ll be consistent with that name from now on—decides to look up her old classmates on Google and Facebook that she discovers an entire webpage set up by Hae Sung, specifically dedicated to an outreach movement he created in order to see her one last time. Things begin to blossom again as Nora decides to reach out through the platform, eventually evolving into near daily Skype consultations between the two, their newfound commitment defying all time zone inconvenience. But upon realizing that she can’t keep her head in the clouds and living in the past, Nora asks to cut communication for a little while. That “little while” turns into twelve years.

In the next dozen, Nora gets married to a fellow author named Arthur (a lovely John Magaro) and continues her life in New York City. Hae Sung remains in Seoul, gets a girlfriend, breaks up with that girlfriend, and inevitably retreats back to melancholy. When he finally does conjure enough money to travel to Manhattan, Hae Sung’s reunion with his long-lost love is filled with sorrow, sweetness, and despondency aplenty.

The first part of “Past Lives” is the tale of a complete and thorough romance. It’s even described by Arthur, a writer himself, as the “perfect story.” The second, more bittersweet half is a parable about two competing relationships—one a literal, the other a potential. Nora loves her life with Arthur, and we’re rooting for the two of them more than we’d expect, but the arrival of Hae Sung brings her estranged demons back into the limelight, and with it, her entire Korean heritage. Through Magaro’s performance, we know that Arthur feels irrelevant, with a side helping of jealousy, pity, and longing. It’s deeply moving, relatable, and humble all at once. An empathy machine.

Greta Lee and Teo Yoo provide powerhouse performances that I wouldn’t be surprised to hear more about this coming awards season. Nora often takes the center stage from Hae Sung, as we’re more so treated to her journey—her uncertainty, her regret, her romance—than we are the latter. Hae Sung, for most of the film, remains only an elusive idea; seen exclusively as an adolescent, or a visual on a computer screen. When he finally shows up in person, 24 years later, we’re in just as much disbelief as Nora is. It must be reality, but it feels more ethereal than that.

It helps that Celine Song’s script is as sharp as it is, making for one of the most well-written movies of the year. The simplest scenes—strolls through the park, conversations at dinner, exchanges made while lying in bed on a lazy night—are the film’s most impressive feats. And it’s all gorgeously shot by cinematographer Shabier Kirchner, who paints New York City with cozy, aesthetic hues. This is, among other things, a warm and inviting picture.

“Past Lives” explores the meaning of the Korean term “in-yun,” translating to, “closest to destiny or fate.” In Nora’s world, she has ended up perfectly happy beside Arthur in New York, a Jewish writer whom she met almost on a whim. But is that what her life was meant to be? Is that what she envisioned for herself back when she was a tween in Seoul? The answer, at least to the second question, as it turns out, is “no.” As she anticipated from the very start, she would one day wed Hae Sung and the two would live happily in Seoul together, and Hae Sung thought the same. But life, as it often does, has its surprises, and that road was not taken. The characters in “Past Lives” find themselves asking the existential questions of “Am I doing it right?” and “How would my life be different?” if they had decided to go down certain paths. The profundity it’s matched with is all the more devastating by the sigh that accompanies lines of dialogue, and the spirited look of the eye that comes with false hope.

With a minor alteration, “Past Lives” could just as easily have been called “Past Loves,” and the narrative would stay the same. Inferior and less-thoughtful movies do not moot such comparison. But this unique film reaches a certain recess of your heart that draws the tears to your eyes, and compels you to consider each and every emotion and perspective that’s clambering to get out. “Past Lives” guides you to examine its characters and story with poise. The best movies always do.

Now playing in theaters.