Celine Song’s powerful directorial debut Past Lives is a tender yet pragmatic reflection on love, connection, and the forces which bind us together as well as those holding us back. It charts the life of Nora (played by Greta Lee), starting with her emigration from South Korea and departure from her childhood sweetheart Hae Sung (Teo Yoo). Twenty-four years later, she is happily married to her American husband Arthur (John Magaro) when Hae Sung visits her in New York, prompting confusion and the processing of feelings Nora decisively put to bed 12 years prior. Nora is forced to reconcile the past version of herself with the present, as well as the possibilities of what-might-have-been with the actual circumstances of her current life.
Song opens the film like a mystery, showing the three main characters together at a bar while fellow bar-goers speculate about their relation to each other. As we learn about the circumstances which connect the characters, the question of the nature of their relationships does present itself as a mystery to be untangled. To begin with, Nora and Hae Sung are having such an intimate conversation that no casual observer would at first assume that it was Arthur who Nora was married to. But what exactly “are” Nora and Hae Sung? How do you define someone you talked to and walked with every day as a child, on whose shoulders you regularly cried on, but who you haven’t spoken to for twelve years and haven’t seen in person for twenty-four? “Old friend” doesn’t quite cut it, but “old lover” is too premature.
In another important scene, Nora explains the Korean concept of “in-yeon” to Arthur, referring to two people having connections of fate which transcend their many lifetimes. Past Lives examines the notions of fate and predetermined destiny – but doesn’t come to the conclusions you might initially expect. Arthur jokes that he’s “the evil white American husband standing in the way of destiny”, but neither he nor Nora really believe that in the end. Rather, pretty much the opposite is implied – just because two people may have shared a connection in a past life, or earlier in this life, it doesn’t mean that they are destined to be together. Real life and real circumstances dictate where and with whom we end up. Song’s message is about how the decisions we make or have made in this life create the circumstances that either bring us together or drive us apart. Nora realises her being with Arthur in New York was far from inevitable from the outset, but recognises that the choices made earlier in her life have made her current life inevitable and impossible to abandon just for the sake of some romanticised notion of “destiny”.
The locations in Past Lives reinforce the separation of Nora and Hae Sung, the deviation of their lives’ paths from each other, and the infeasibility of their being together in the present. While New York is the city of possibility for Nora, a writer, and for so many other creatives, it also masquerades as one of impossibility. We are constantly reminded that Nora’s being there and Hae Sung’s being in Seoul is the primary barrier between them. The soundscape of New York becomes louder as their connection over Skype breaks down, rooting the characters deeper into the locations they are in and severing the illusion of closeness their tenuous Skype connection briefly conjured. Shots of the skyline of New York at night contrast with Seoul’s pale daytime landscape, further accentuating the physical distance between Nora and Hae Sung and the emotional distance that has developed as a result.
The concept of physical connection, simply being in the presence of one another, is vital to this film. It seems to change everything for Nora, as it’s clear she gave little thought to the effect which meeting up with Hae Sung would have on her before she actually spent the day with him in the city. The value that Song places on the power of physical presence is apparent from her insistence that Nora and Hae Sung’s first reunion hug was the first time that Greta Lee and Teo Yoo touched each other in real life. She also ensured that the first awkward encounter between Hae Sung and Arthur was the first time the two actors met in person. The significance of physical connection in creating and maintaining emotional connection underlines Song’s thesis that it is the everyday, practical, mundane things which determine the course of our lives and who we spend them with – that it’s not up to some higher power, but really boils down to path dependency.
Past Lives is a film of mourning in two ways – Nora mourns past versions of herself, as well as the many different possible lives she could have lived. Differences between her childhood self, herself from twelve years ago and her current self are emphasised. Arthur is surprised to learn that she used to be something of a crybaby, as he has rarely seen her cry in the time they have been together. Additionally, the more subtle changes in Nora’s character are documented in her ambitions for various awards at different stages of her life – twenty-four years ago it was the Nobel Prize she was aiming for, twelve years ago it was the Pulitzer, and now she strives for a Tony. Yet as the closing scene suggests, the borders between our past and current selves are more diffuse than one might think. Nora has broken apart from the version of herself that used to cry every day on Hae Sung’s shoulder, but fragments of this little girl evidently still exist within her and can be coaxed out.
More than other films of the same genre, Past Lives is a very realistic approach to the topic of love and the question of what-might-have-been. Throughout the entire process of reuniting with Hae Sung, Nora remains decidedly realistic and grounded in the current circumstances of her actual life. It is Hae Sung who is the dreamer and more attached to the possible life they could have shared – he was the one more upset about her leaving Seoul, he was the one to look her up on Facebook first, he was the more emotional of the two after Nora decided she didn’t want to Skype anymore. He is the dreamer and Nora is the realist. She never really entertains the notion of uprooting her life in New York to be with him; she is only sad thinking about what might have been while simultaneously firmly remembering that it is not reality. Yet at the same time, moving to New York was never on the cards for Hae Sung either. Song adeptly highlights how the indisputable and unignorable facts of the present prevent the pair from travelling back to a past where it was possible and expectable for them to be together. This shows Nora’s mature acceptance of her life now, and of the fact that due to past choices, these are the circumstances she finds herself in. Yes, she is mournful of what might have been, but still she pragmatically clings to the real present and to what her life has actually turned out to be.
Despite its mournful tone and healthy dose of realism, however, Song’s message is actually optimistic. Nora’s mother talks about how leaving or losing something also entails gaining something. Interestingly, the characters always used the word “immigrate” rather than “emigrate” to describe Nora’s departure from South Korea, even when the latter would have suited the context better. Rather than dwelling too much on the loss of not following a certain path, Past Lives appreciates the wealth of possible paths open to us and how differently they can mould our lives.
Not too short but not too long, every minute of Past Lives leaves you thinking about something – whether it’s the answer to the questions the characters pose to one another, explicitly or implicitly, or the subdued yet stunning cinematography. It approaches the question of what-might-have-been with more realism than the equally wistful Before trilogy, but fans of the Linklater films are sure to also enjoy Song’s outstanding debut.
WORDS: Rosie O’Mara
