The Korean concept inyun references the strings of providence that tie people together throughout each reincarnated life. If it’s a simple brush of clothing as two strangers pass on the street, there was likely an interaction between the two in a past life. If the two get married, then they must have known each other many times before, it’s believed.
For Nora, that idea is just a silly belief that people bring up because it sounds romantic enough to seduce someone. And it likely sounds silly to her because she moved away from Korea at a young age, changed her name from Na Young to Nora, and grew up in Canadian and American culture instead.
But for her childhood crush, Hae Sung, who remained in Korea, inyun is simply a fact of life. After all, how else could you explain the two reconnecting online after not speaking for 12 years? And after quickly hitting it off once more, they both agree that there’s an unspoken something between them, a longing for love like vapor in the wind, ever present though never solidified.
It’s the lack of solidity that eventually leads Nora to stop talking to Hae Sung once more so that she can focus on her playwriting aspirations. And though the two promised to meet in person one day, they never did. Instead, Nora got married and moved on with her life, and 12 more years went by.
But Hae Sung has never fully forgotten just how those layers of inyun felt. And despite Nora’s marriage, he’s coming to her New York apartment to see her—even if he may be one lifetime’s worth of inyun too early.
As Past Lives points out with tongue in cheek, many romances might be quick to paint Nora’s husband, Arthur, as the bad guy: “The evil white American husband standing in the way of destiny.”
But Arthur isn’t a bad guy. In fact, by all accounts of the movie, he’s actually a pretty good husband—one whom even Hae Sung somewhat painfully admits is a good match for Nora.
Furthermore, Nora and Arthur engage in healthy emotional conversation at times. They turn to each other to discuss some insecurities they feel—even insecurities that arise as a result of the other’s actions. They talk through these issues and reassure one another.
Nora tells Arthur that inyun is a Buddhist concept that specifically ties into reincarnation. It deals with the fate of two people meeting throughout their many lifetimes. The more of these connections they have, the closer they may be. The movie thus emphasizes that Hae Sung and Nora are star-crossed soulmates who cannot get the timing right.
Nora tells Arthur that inyun is just a thing that Koreans say in order to seduce someone. Arthur is seen in his boxers in one scene. He’s also seen interacting with fans of his book, which has the title Boner. Nora and Arthur kiss.
We hear a reference to sex, and we hear two people joke about a past life where they might have had a forbidden affair.
Two older women walk arm in arm; they are presumably a couple, as all other background characters in the scene are paired into couples on a date. We also see a couple scenes of tense, longing looks. We also see a man and woman passionately kissing in the background of a scene.
None.
The f-word and s-word are both used in Korean (with subtitles onscreen, obviously) twice. We also hear “b–ch,” “h—,” “b–tard” and “p-ss” in Korean once.
Characters drink. At one point, Hae Sung and his friends are notably intoxicated as they try to help a friend through a breakup, and Hae Sung deals with the effects of the hangover the next morning. Many characters smoke cigarettes.
Nora’s relationship with Hae Sung certainly comes across as, at the very least, emotionally cheating on Arthur. Her relationship with Hae Sung creates insecurities within Arthur. He begins to compare himself to Hae Sung, and by his own verdict, finds himself lacking.
Arthur also feels isolated from his own wife as she speaks in fluent Korean to Hae Sung, with the film making what looked to be an intentional choice to cut Arthur out of the shot as Nora and Hae Sung have an emotional conversation. And when Arthur asks Nora if she’s happy with the life she lives with him, her response seems to reframe the question away from her happiness.
“This is where I ended up,” Nora says simply. “This is where I’m meant to be.”
Through its story of longing romance, Past Lives further explores how immigrating to a new culture can leave someone feeling disjointed from their previous one. After Nora meets with Hae Sung, she expresses that she feels like she’s lost a bit of herself, since she doesn’t feel Korean when she compares herself to him.
Ultimately, the choice Nora faces—either choosing to be with Hae Sung or remaining with her American husband, Arthur—is likewise a choice that determines her sense of cultural identity. If Nora says goodbye to Hae Sung, is she also saying goodbye to the little Na Young that she used to be?
Lingering camera shots and long silences make the audience feel the soft words that remain unspoken on the tips of the characters’ tongues, building tension that fills the theater like a heavy mist. And, if I’m being a bit more cynical, while some of these moments worked, others made me wish that the scene might just speed up a little.
As the story progresses, Past Lives creates an emotional hurdle for its audience. The story elements invite viewers to want Nora and Hae Sung to end up together. But these events ultimately make us feel pity for Arthur, who feels like the third wheel in his own marriage. If Nora and Hae Sung run away together, they’ll leave a victimized Arthur behind. And he’s already, in some aspects of the film, the ultimate victim in the story.
In terms of content, expect some subtitled swear words, drunkenness and a couple tense scenes that, while nothing overtly sexual occurs, border on fiercely intimate.
I’ve seen little but unqualified praise for Past Lives, an impressive feat considering that it’s Celine Song’s directorial film debut. Of course, from Plugged In’s perspective, we see some issues of which families will want to take note of, especially the fact the film might make us want to cheer for the dissolution of a marriage that, while not perfect, isn’t a bad one either.
Kennedy Unthank studied journalism at the University of Missouri. He knew he wanted to write for a living when he won a contest for “best fantasy story” while in the 4th grade. What he didn’t know at the time, however, was that he was the only person to submit a story. Regardless, the seed was planted. Kennedy collects and plays board games in his free time, and he loves to talk about biblical apologetics. He thinks the ending of Lost “wasn’t that bad.”
