HONG x 2

YOURSELF AND YOURS

“Don’t try to know everything,” says Minjung (Lee You-young), the central female protagonist in Hong Sang-soo’s Yourself and Yours. Indeed, the notion that ‘needing to know’ is overrated might be useful to bear in mind when negotiating Hong’s many cryptic excursions into the Soju-fuelled lives of his largely self-deluded characters. Some reviewers cite Luis Bunuel, Abbas Kiarostami, Woody Allen and Richard Linklater as possible influences on Hong, but his work often reminds me (though not overtly) of Eric Rohmer. That said, Hong’s cinema differs markedly from Rohmer’s in its quasi-autobiographical reflexivity and his signature use of temporal shifts and narrative obfuscations — loops, repetitions, diversions, inventions, dreams, memories, and projections of fantasies and imagined or alternative outcomes.

Ambiguity and uncertainty are intriguing devices in Hong's work, reminding us that ‘cinematic truth’ is not only relative but entirely up for grabs. He rarely, if ever, breaks the fourth wall, but that could be because he addresses the viewer at every moment. It’s clear that the absurd premise of Yourself and Yours should not be taken literally. Rather than pondering narrative veracity, we’re free to get on with teasing out Hong's underlying themes and subtexts, relaxing in the knowledge that ‘knowing’ is overrated.

CLAIRE’S CAMERA

Where Hong Sang-Soo's YOURSELF AND YOURS was framed by the central character's comment, “Don’t try to know everything”, CLAIRE'S CAMERA is framed by the titular Claire when she says, “The only way to change things is to look at them again … very slowly.” Wonderfully played by Isabelle Huppert, Claire believes that her Polaroid camera changes the lives of every person it captures. “If I take your photo,” she says, “you are no longer the same person.” Her belief in the transformative power of her camera sets the tone of this airy musing on the potential of art — especially cinema.

At just over an hour, this feather-light charmer could be the ideal primer for anyone entering the Escher-like world of Hong Sang-soo. A melancholic miniature about two women adrift in the late-Spring warmth of Cannes at film festival time, it’s arguably Hong’s most Rohmer-esque excursion (homage?) to date. After a chance encounter with Man-hee (Kim Min-hee), recently sacked from a job she didn’t particularly like as a movie sales agent and now at a loose end in the South of France, Clair and her newfound friend lead each other (or more to the point, are led by writer-director Hong) through a whimsical set of serendipitous encounters that confirm the magical powers of Claire’s camera, as well as the seemingly effortless quality of Hong’s singular cinematic voice. Hong makes films that might even change you if you're willing to look at them again ... very slowly.