Celine Song’s Past Lives is a sentimental, introspective film that entwines beautiful concepts about connection, time, and sense of longing for what could have been. The movie begins with scenes of Na Young and Hae Sung as elementary school sweethearts in Seoul, having play dates outside and walking on hilly roads home together. After twelve years pass, we see that Na Young and Hae Sung have gone their separate ways, working on distinct careers, having their own friends, and going about their day-to-day. Na Young has immigrated to America and lives in a crammed apartment in New York City to chase her dream of becoming an acclaimed writer, while Hae Sung has stayed in meditative, peaceful Korea pursuing engineering studies after military service. The two find each other on Facebook and reconnect via video chats. The connection is intense and palpable as they rekindle the spark they had in their childhood. Nevertheless, they eventually decide to stop talking, recognizing different life ambitions.
The Triple Threat Opening Scene at the Times Square AMC
Fast forward another twelve years. Hae Sung travels across the world to visit New York City on vacation (or so he says… he is truly there to see Na Young, who is now married to Arthur, a Jewish man that she met at a writing camp in Montauk.) The special connection between them is clear despite all of the time that has passed. The world seems to dreamily melt around them when they are in each other’s company. Na Young sees Hae Song as someone from her past life in Korea, which makes her wonder about what life would look like if she stayed. To explore fully into her own Korean background is to also explore the possibilities of another life, the life of growing up in or moving back to Korea and even being with Hae Sung. This is painful to dive into, since life can only be lived forward: what’s done is done, and the relentless motion of time is inevitable. At the end of the day, the two confront their past and the present and consider what could have been. In a heartfelt discussion, they examine the concept of inyeon – a Korean word regarding the encounters we share with others over countless lifetimes.
They hug each other goodbye. After Hae Sung steps in the taxi to the airport, Na Young finally breaks down and cries. It’s an intense emotional release and a universal experience. It reminds me of seeing an ex for the first time long after ending things. You hug them, and all of the memories come rushing back and the longing that comes with seeing them or hoping to fix things encompassed in the ache. I like how the movie doesn’t romanticize soulmates or fate. Instead, pervasive throughout is a stubborn heartache for something familiar but far away. This is a challenging emotion to contend with. It’s like a subtle headache on a gloomy day. It does not take over your life, but it is noticeable. You might want to chase the longing, but you need to move on with your life. Even though it can never be, you cling on to it. In this way, it can be even more addictive than another part of the relationship because it is a fantasy of what it could have been, rather than the actuality. While the movie is full of poetic dialogue and accompanied by a reflective, graceful soundtrack, it leaves silences and space for us to reminisce about our own experiences on who we are becoming, our own fateful choices, and what could have been. In this way, the movie tackles the life questions of, “what if?” “How do I move forward while also honoring my past?” and explores feelings and experiences that transcend their specific story.
