Past Lives: Celine Song's Debut Story of Choice, Fate, and Lost Love
- Meri Utkovska
- Oct 11, 2024
- 4 min read
I've been wanting to see Past Lives since the moment it premiered at Sundance in January 2023, but something (me) always got in the way. Until a few weeks ago, and, being the romantic I am at heart, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it ever since.
Celine Song's Oscar-nominated debut feature is a painfully simple and direct story, and yet it overpowers with complexity of emotion and a profound sense of romance and longing.
Na-young (Seung Ah-moon) and Hae-sung (Seung Min-yim) are 12-year-old best friends living in Seoul, South Korea. They spend every moment together, young love (and a bit of competition) flooding their encounters. Their childhood romance, however, ends abruptly when Na-young's family emigrates to North America.
12 years pass in which both of them lead remarkably different lives away from each other - Na-young (Greta Lee) is now a rising star writer in New York and has changed her name to Nora Moon, and Hae-sung (Teo Yoo), after finishing his military service, is studying engineering back in Seoul. One day, a chance comment on social media brings them back together - in the virtual world, at least - and their connection is rekindled. They stay up late to talk on Skype, setting up video calls through sweet, and, often rushed emails and text messages, and it quickly becomes clear that these are two people who, though separated for a very long period of time and miles of space in between, still know each other very well. Their chemistry is unmatched - exciting, keeping you on the edge of your seat, waving between them like a playful ocean - but it's their unspoken, rare, beyond the physical connection that's intrinsic to their story.
Nora, again, after a while, decides to leave the relationship, seeing how they cannot meet in person and wanting to focus entirely on her writing career, and they go, for a second time, their separate ways.
Another 12 years pass, and she's now in her 30s, working as a playwright in New York and living with her American husband Arthur – a fellow writer. Their love is a different kind of love - it's soft, stable, and quiet, but nonetheless real. It's a love they choose, not so much a love that was meant to be. The very concept of a meant-to-be is left to linger in the air, like a falling star that never reaches its destination. Is fate something ethereal, something we have no control over, or is it the consequences of the conscious choices that we make? I suppose it's up to the viewer to decide that.
On an entirely different continent, Hae-sung breaks up with his girlfriend and decides to travel to North America. Had his feelings for Nora not been so strongly evident throughout the film, we might think that he was only a tourist visiting New York. But this is a character who fell in love when he was a boy and never got the chance to see how that love could grow. As Arthur points out at one instant, he travels 13 hours to see his childhood sweetheart, despite the fact that they've not seen each other for 24 years. And, had this not been a mature take on, what is referred to as a love triangle, Arthur might not have allowed Nora to meet Hae-sung, or, he might have threatened to leave her when she decided to do so. This, however, is a far more complex exploration of human relationships - Arthur loves Nora enough (and is emotionally mature enough) to allow space in their shared life for Hae-sung, who, he knows is a man his wife still loves.
Nora and Hae-sung spend a week together exploring New York City and their older selves through a thread of reminiscences, apologies for past actions, and laughter. When they fail to speak, their prolonged, piercing eye contact is enough for the viewer to thoroughly experience their relationship. This is a film with no kissing, no sex, and no affair, and it is still achingly romantic and intense. And yes, it is sad. For there is a remarkable amount of sadness in the space of an if - if Nora hadn't emigrated, would they still be together? If Hae-sung had left Seoul and moved to New York, would they've gotten married? And if they did, would they be happy? Sometimes, what hurts is not so much the not knowing, but not having the chance to find out, even if the life we chose is a great one. It's the one not lived - the one echoing through Nora and Hae-sung's shared glances, shy smiles, and profound connection - that breaks the heart.
With a beautiful cinematography (evoking memories of Wong Kar-wai's In the Mood for Love) by Shabier Kirchner, and a heart-wrenching performance by Greta Lee and Teo Yoo, Past Lives will surely go down in history as a story of choice, missed opportunities, love, and unspoken connections that transcend time and space.
It's without a doubt, one of the most beautiful films ever made. And an absolute must-see.
Past Lives is featured in Issue No. 6 of The Poem, Film, Song, Painting Series, alongside works by Scottish poet Carol Ann Duffy, pianist and composer Max Richter, and painter Harald Slott-Møller.
Discover the full issue here.
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