Before social skills, I used to tell these ridiculously long-winded stories. My family knew how to spot a budding epic and would warn the room to buckle up because once the saga began, tiny me could not be stopped. It was (I hope) adorable, but thankfully I’ve learned a trick or two about editing. IT WOULD SEEM that not every chatterbox child had the same breakthrough. What made my stories so draining was that they usually featured 20-30 characters, multiple lines of dialogue, overlapping plots, and by the time the grand conclusion rolled around, very little had changed. These five-act plays could have been summarized in a sentence. Past Lives isn’t quite the same as my stories – the limited cast has just one plot line – but the final impression feels familiar. All that drama and here we are right back at the beginning.
As a pitch, Past Lives is a sweet idea. Two childhood friends, Nora (Greta Lee) and Hae Sung (Teo Yoo), are pulled apart when Nora’s family immigrates to Canada. Twelve years later, Hae Sung tracks Nora to New York and the couple reconnect
over Skype. But New York and Seoul are very far away and distance pulls these soul mates apart once again. Another twelve years go by and Hae Sung finally visits New York, but by now Nora is married and no matter what they feel for each other, the timing still isn’t right.
Some connections transcend lifetimes. There’s a mysterious bond that allows us to tolerate some people more than others and it defies explanation. For Nora and Hae Sung, the bond is so thick it’s almost rude. When they’re together, everyone else disappears. But, spoiler alert, like good, well-mannered Koreans, they refuse to hurt Nora’s husband of convenience, Arthur (John Magaro), so once again the pair go their separate ways. It’s so obvious that these two sweethearts should be together. So obvious that Arthur is more of a roommate than lover, but no. Hae Sung’s ticket is for a return flight so that’s that.
In the end, nothing at all changes. They part, they reunite, they part again, they reunite in person, they part again, the 
end. You know meetings that could have been an email? This film could have been a sentence. I’ve had wilder adventures on a merry-go-round.
Putting the nonexistent plot on a shelf for a second, there are a few features that give Past Lives a professional quality. First, the performances. Past Lives is all about emotion. Longing, regret, denial, joy, guilt… Even without dialogue, Lee and Yoo weather these complicated feelings through micro expressions and body language. Nora and Hae Sung don’t need words when their eyes do most of the talking.
The second hinge propping up this film is the cinematography. It isn’t flashy or fancy in any way, but there’s something calm about it. Maybe it’s the slightly off-centred framing, or the not-quite colourful clothing, or an internet connection that cuts off mid-conversation; it’s like every scene opens with a question and closes without a satisfying answer. Even when the pair finally reunite, something
goes unsaid, a day ends before it should, or an outsider interrupts what should have been a private moment. Everything is purposefully just a bit uncomfortable and unsatisfying. It’s like rain when they promised sun, or when half the park is closed and you’re forced to turn around. There’s a kind of sad calm in being at the mercy of the universe.
As skillfully made as Past Lives is, I still had to take breaks. It bored me to sleep. It knocked me unconscious. I don’t need action or some great mystery to push a story along; just a little bit of momentum would be fine. Past Lives has so little propulsion that it essentially ends right back where it started. This is a pretty movie, a calm movie, something to throw on if the cat has snuggled in and you’re prohibited from moving. It’s a lethargic 4/10.
Plenty of Popcorn 