Sad-eyed indie film 'Past Lives' beautifully reflects on what might have been

Celine Song’s “Past Lives,” which opened at Ragtag Cinema Friday, is not a love story. It is a story of longing.

It is about characters who do not necessarily love each other, but recognize how a change in time and place could have made a difference in who they loved.

Not much happens in the film, which rather serves as a melancholic reflection on our past and present. It stirs up deep emotions in the audience in the most subtle ways.

The opening scene is at a bar very early in the morning. Nora (Greta Lee) and Hae Sung (Teo Yoo) are talking while Arthur (John Magaro) sits saying nothing. The audience cannot hear anything other than the voices of off-camera observers trying to understand the dynamic of the three. Which is the central occupation of the rest of the film.

Who are these people? What is their true connection to each other?

Then, smash, we’re in South Korea, 24 years in the past. Hae Sung is a little boy. Nora is a little girl who goes by Na Young. They're inseparable. Love is not suggested; they are much too young for that. They are at the point in life where humans act and feel with abandon, without the need to adjust to labels or expectations. They are learning about the world, each other and themselves.

Hae Sung’s family announces they are moving. The children sense looming permanence but, again, cannot process what that means. The adults in the audience know and it leaves a pall. We remember childhood friends or crushes that evaporated into the ether of time and the fog of memory.

Names and specifics are fleeting, but the emotions leave a subconscious impression sparked by the image of young Na Young ascending a set of stairs while Hae Sung continues down the cobbled road. Things will never be the same. But every moment offers this promise. Or threat.

Although we’ve seen the first scene; we know they will see each other again. Smash! Twelve years later. Na Young is now Nora, going through her metamorphosis, becoming a struggling New York playwright. Hae Sung is in compulsory military training.

They connect, as so many of us do, online. They talk about their lives and their hopes for a still-young life. Much of this is idle, if not comforting, conversation. Nora senses this, knowing nothing will come of this relationship given their distance. She asks for a break to focus on her writing. He obliges.

Then, Nora meets Arthur at a writer’s retreat. Smash! We’re back to the present. Nora and Arthur are hitched, perhaps not out of deep, abiding love but because Nora needed a green card. Arthur is now a published writer yet portrayed as a schlub.

This seems like a cheat; a movie trick to make the woman go towards the true love in her life. But Hae Sung is a bit of a schlub himself. He is in a relationship but indecisive about the future. He finds Nora again and says he will be on vacation in the states. Maybe they should see each other!

This is not his motive. Obviously. They meet. They do touristy things around the Big Apple. They have a conversation in front of a merry-go-round in case we needed a hint about the nature of their relationship. We finally get to the first scene of the movie. The awkward but polite dinner and drinks. Hae Sung and Nora take advantage of Arthur’s limited Korean and talk about what their lives would have been like had she not moved. Or if they had kept talking online. Or so many other things.

What happens in the climax we'll leave untouched, except to say this moment over drinks is the critical part of “Past Lives.” This is not Nora Ephron or Richard Linklater — the patter between partners isn’t witty or dense. This is a film that solemnly reflects on why people turn out the way they do or how big moments in a life shape the outcomes of destiny.

The characters themselves are ordinary by design. Their actions and conversations allow viewers to reflect on how decisions in their lives changed who they married or who they left behind. If you’re in a contemplative mood, the film is deeply rewarding.

For whatever happens to Nora or Hae Sung matters only to the past. They do not love each other; not in a romantic way, I would wager. They love the ideas of themselves as innocents. As blank slates. Their romance is with a life still ahead of them. Their fear of the situation is not whether they will disrupt their present lives, but of discovering whether there’s anything left of those young kids they once were.

Have their lives — their “ordinariness” as Hae Sung calls it — cemented them into a permanent path even in their early thirties? Their relationship, whatever it is, feels poised to live on as a way of connecting to that earlier time; those “Past Lives,” if you will.

The film is confident enough to leave pauses and pensive stares lingering in order to give the audience time to ponder various meanings. “Past Lives” is beautifully told and beats with a sad heart. Lots of big movies out right now. Make time for a small, quiet one like this as well.

James Owen is the Tribune’s film columnist. In real life, he is a lawyer and executive director of energy policy group Renew Missouri. A graduate of Drury University and the University of Kansas, he created Filmsnobs.com, where he co-hosts a podcast. He enjoyed an extended stint as an on-air film critic for KY3, the NBC affiliate in Springfield, and now regularly guests on Columbia radio station KFRU.

This article originally appeared on Columbia Daily Tribune: 'Past Lives' brings reflection on what might have been to Ragtag Cinema