Yourself and Yours (2016)
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Review #1,379 |
THE SCOOP
Director: Hong Sang-soo
Cast: Kim Ju-hyuk, Lee You-young
Plot: A man and woman separate, but after the latter disappears, the film embarks on an intriguing foray into the uncanny.
Genre: Drama / Romance
Awards: Official Selection (Toronto)
Runtime: 86min
Rating: PG13 for some coarse language
International Sales: Finecut
IN RETROSPECT (Spoilers: NO)
Yourself
and Yours is
another light and whimsical entry into the Hong Sang-soo canon. If you like his previous works like Hill of Freedom (2014), or Right Now, Wrong Then (2015), you will
like this. The prolific South Korean
writer-director has made 18 features in the last 20 years, and apart from being
a festival darling, he has been likened by many to Woody Allen, or perhaps more
accurately, to the late Eric Rohmer, whose ‘conversational’ films were shot in
a naturalistic style and often explored relationship dynamics.
Yourself
and Yours reminds of That Obscure Object of Desire (1977),
Bunuel’s superlative final film, which involves intimacy between a man and a
woman (or are there two?) who look alike but have differing personalities. As I vaguely recall, any similarities
probably end there.
Hong’s film dissects in a no-frills style the
intricacies of romantic relationships, with his characters musing for long
sections of the film about their lives.
Much of these musings can be considered flirting, and with alcohol
involved, being blissfully drunk seems to be all there is to human
existence. It is a picture of chance
encounters with strangers and drinking with them… hoping for a connection.
The lead character, Yong-soo (Kim Ju-hyuk),
wallows in self-pity after losing his girlfriend Min-jong (Lee You-young) after
an argument. You see… Yong-soo’s friends
think Min-jong is a loose, hard-drinking woman, causing him to lose trust in
her when she denies the accusations.
Yourself
and Yours,
however, turns into surreal territory when Min-jong’s identical twin (or is it
herself?) comes into the picture.
Despite having the opportunity to turn the film into a dialectic between
the real and the uncanny, Hong maintains the film’s grounding in naturalism, so
much so that it retains a strong sense of normalcy in light of quaint
occurrences.
Together with a recurring light-hearted music
piece that acts as transition points in a very precisely-structured film
(content is free-wheeling though), Hong’s work is faintly amusing while showing
insight and intellect in its treatment of themes of romance, fidelity, trust
and faith. His use of slow zooms (onto
an object or to focus on a character) rather than editing with differing shot
sizes is refreshing, considering that the zoom has long since been an archaic
form of visual storytelling.
Verdict: Another light and whimsical entry into the
Hong Sang-soo canon, and as usual, musing on the intricacies of romantic
relationships.
GRADE: B
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