More than once, the protagonists in Mimang wonder where they are and where they’re going—it is a concrete, geographical question born from walking around the streets of Seoul, but as the film progresses, that urban journey also proves to be an existential one. We accompany the characters in some str
More than once, the protagonists in Mimang wonder where they are and where they’re going—it is a concrete, geographical question born from walking around the streets of Seoul, but as the film progresses, that urban journey also proves to be an existential one. We accompany the characters in some stretches of their path—many years separate each of the episodes that make up the film, and that distance reveals changes through what remains. This is not a film about earthquakes, but about small transformations, and the marks of time can be seen not only in the actors’ bodies, but also in that other omnipresent protagonist that is Seoul, whose vitality invades every shot. Like others before him (it’s inevitable to think about Truffaut or Linklater), here, Kim Taeyang reminds us that cinema is the best time machine that has been invented so far.
