NYFF 2021: IN FRONT OF YOUR FACE & INTRODUCTION

A film festival doesn’t truly feel like a film festival unless it boasts at least one film in its lineup from the prolific South Korean filmmaker Hong Sangsoo. Well, this year’s New York Film Festival has not one, but two, of Hong’s latest projects screening as part of the Main Slate. It’s clear that restrictions on filmmaking imposed by pandemic lockdowns could not stop Hong from doing what he does best: telling strikingly intimate cinematic stories that delve deep into the complexities of human relationships.

Befitting these pandemic times, both In Front of Your Face and Introduction are about overcoming distance, whether it be physical, emotional, or generational — or a combination of all three. And while the combined running time of these two brief films totals approximately two and a half hours (basically the equivalent of another one of this year’s Main Slate selections, What Do We See When We Look at the Sky?), Hong manages to pack in enough emotionally incisive dialogue — not to mention smoking and drinking — to fill a handful of features.

In Front of Your Face (Hong Sangsoo)

“If I can just properly see what’s in front of my face, I’m not afraid of anything.” So says Sangok (Lee Hyeyoung), a middle-aged former actress who has returned from a long sojourn in the United States to visit a Seoul she barely recognizes in In Front of Your Face. Since abandoning acting to follow a man overseas, Sangok has worked in a travel agency in D.C. and owned a liquor store in Seattle, with other possible stops in between left unsaid; she’s always rented, never owned, living a nomadic lifestyle that is mostly a mystery to her sister, Jeongok (Cho Yunhee).

At one point in their catch-up conversation, Jeongok bemoans, “We don’t know how the other has lived.” Yet despite there being so much that they don’t know about each other due to their years apart, their inherent bond as sisters quickly overcomes any distance between them. They wander to a coffee shop, then to a restaurant owned by Jeongok’s son, having the kinds of deeply personal discussions over food and drink that one has come to expect from a Hong Sangsoo movie. Other trademarks of his that abound in In Front of Your Face: the mostly static camera, the long scenes that often grow uncomfortable as the characters within them grow more and more brutally honest (usually under the influence of copious amounts of soju), the tendency to zoom in on a character’s face, as opposed to cutting to them, giving the film a smooth yet strangely artificial feel (Hong is forcing us to remember that he is there controlling the action, despite the lovely naturalness of the dialogue and acting).

Eventually, Sangok leaves her sister, first to visit a childhood home that has since been transformed into a flower shop, then to meet up with a younger director (yet another Hong trademark: the self-absorbed male filmmaker serving as an avatar for our director) who wants to work with her, having admired her early films all his life. As the two of them drink and the director, Jaewon (Hong regular Kwon Haehyo), grows more insistent, Sangok reveals a dark secret to him that she hasn’t revealed to anyone else — not even Jeongok, at least not yet. But while Sangok shows strength and wisdom in facing what is to come, Jaewon dissolves, tears and alcohol flowing in abundance. He makes a fool out of himself, as most of Hong’s male characters do, in front of a woman who is more capable than him, as most of Hong’s female characters are.

As played by Lee, Sangok is a marvelous woman, quite possibly Hong’s most compelling female protagonist to not be played by Kim Minhee. The film in which she stars feels as natural and elegant as her onscreen presence, a brief but no less impactful meditation on bridging distances created by time and space; it’s crisp, efficient yet elegiac storytelling. Throughout In Front of Your Face, Sangok silently prays to herself, expressing gratitude for what has gone well and hope for what will come next. This mindful inner monologue is what helps her keep her head as Jaewon blubbers and makes promises that he knows he cannot keep; when he messages her the next morning to apologize, Sangok’s reaction is to laugh from deep within her belly, rolling around on the couch upon which she has been sleeping. She knew he would break his word, and she also doesn’t care; she has no time to dwell on the past or what could have been, only for the here and now of her life.

Introduction (Hong Sangsoo)

In Front of Your Face clocks in at a mere 85 minutes; Introduction is even briefer, running barely more than an hour. Yet while In Front of Your Face is a deeply satisfying movie despite its brevity, Introduction left me wanting more. Its title feels too apt; we barely have enough time to get to know the ensemble cast of characters and the complications that plague their relationships with each other before the film ends. It lacks the strong focal point that Lee‘s performance as Sangok gives In Front of Your Face, and succumbs to the feeling of aimlessness that can pervade some of the lesser Hong pictures. It’s still enjoyable, just not terribly memorable.

Shot in gorgeous high-contrast black-and-white, Introduction jumps from scene to scene and place to place as a young couple hover on the edge of adulthood but find themselves unable to bridge that gap — a gap that is epitomized by their inability to properly communicate and connect with the elder generation. Youngho (Shin Seokho, who also plays Jeongok’s son in In Front of Your Face) begins the film with a visit to the office of his acupuncturist father (Kim Youngho); despite it being a long time since son and father have met, the father is repeatedly caught up with patients, leaving his nurse (Ye Jiwon) to stall on his behalf. She too has missed Youngho, and in their conversation treats him like more of a beloved son than his own father does.

Later, Youngho’s girlfriend, Juwon (Park Miso), departs for Berlin with her mother (Seo Younghwa). The plan is for Juwon to study fashion while staying with an artist friend of her mother’s (the incomparable Kim Minhee, in far too slight a role). Juwon’s awkwardness around this older divorcee is palpable; she begs the artist to “use informal speech, I’m very young.” But soon she is interrupted by a message from Youngho, who has abruptly flown to Berlin to see her. Their conversation is also one defined by disconnection; Juwon clearly disapproves of Youngho’s spontaneity, repeatedly asking him why he has come, while also being flattered by his apparent devotion to her.

In the film’s third chapter — these neat story divisions also being a Hong trademark — Youngho and a friend (Ha Seongguk) meet Youngho’s mother (Cho Yunhee again) and a famous actor friend of the family (Ki Joobong) for a meal; Youngho is contemplating quitting his acting career before it has even really started, and his mother wants the actor to convince him otherwise. Again, the younger generation begs the elder to “use informal speech, we’re very young.” But the polite conversation soon dissolves into a soju-soaked argument in which the actor refuses to understand while Youngho feels that acting out love scenes is wrong; when Youngho embraces a woman, with all of the emotion that entails, it has to be for real. The actor’s inability to comprehend this, and the implosion of their conversation that follows, results in what is by far the most engaging sequence in Introduction, a debate on authenticity in art and in life that feels quintessentially Hong.

Youngho and Juwon meet again at the end of the movie; time has passed, they’ve broken up, and there is a mixture of nostalgia and discomfort hovering in the air between them. But it’s hard to really care about their conversation; the two of them lack the natural gravitas brought by the older, more experienced actors in the film. Perhaps if their story had a few more chapters in between, fleshing out the moments that defined and then destroyed their relationship, Introduction would feel more impactful. Instead, it feels like a series of diverting short films loosely united by a common theme, and it’s just not enough to make Introduction rise above the high bar that Hong Sangsoo has set for himself.

Conclusion

While In Front of Your Face and Lee‘s performance in it are guaranteed to linger with you far longer than anything in Introduction, the films complement each other well enough to make watching both, preferably as a double feature, a necessity for Hong fans. They also serve as a satisfying reminder that one of world cinema’s most consistent filmmakers is still thriving.

What do you think? How many of Hong Sangsoo’s movies have you seen? Share your thoughts in the comments below.

In Front of Your Face and Introduction are currently screening as part of the Main Slate at the 2021 New York Film Festival.