spring, summer, fall, winter… and spring (2003)

by zEke

This is definitely not the kind of cinema most are used to consume. But that, those who know Kim Ki-duk, already know. Far from the violence and misogyny of his previous films, but as poetic as always, spring, summer, fall, winter… and spring is a cyclic tale about the passing of time, as its title rightly suggests. Those who does not know anything about the South Korean director have, of course, two options, and only one implies keep reading this.

The postcard in motion, that this movie is, delights us with a beautiful landscape that emanates solitude: Jusan Pond, a lake surrounded by an infinite valley where a small wooden boat goes back and forth from a floating house and the door that welcomes the audience to this reality. A wise old Buddhist monk (Oh Yeong-su) and his pupil (Seo Jae-kyeong first; Kim Young-min later; and Kim Ki-duk himself when old) share their life with the surroundings as seasons and time go by.

Those who are able to find metaphors for life even under the stones have reasons to celebrate, here they will find subtle ones, obvious ones, and the stones themselves. Actually, stones are very present along the story, both real ones, and the ones we tie to ourselves and drag along with our conscience.

The script might fit in a single piece of paper. Rather than through the character’s lines, the story is told by a clever succession of shots that is strangely able to keep one awake. This is mainly because of the simplicity and beauty of every single shot, always there, no matter if it is the remote landscape or a cleverly useful rooster which fills the screen. The cinematography is so captivating that one will forget, and/or forgive, the purposely trifling performances, that place themselves far from the metaphysical essence of a story about love, anger, guilt, punishment, lust, atonement, sorrow, joy, or, if you prefer, life.

Bad thing is, the movie does only half of the job. The other half, as you might have correctly guessed by now, must be done by the audience.

The movie lacks universality but it does not care, as it does not care either getting on your nerves, yours, if you are ready to label it as pretentious rather than as what it really is, or does, which is just deliver without a judge. Once again, as simple as that. Being about Buddhism, it is actually what one should expect, a movie that abandons the idea of itself and sees itself as part of a whole, a whole that includes us.

For the deadhours of those who would not kill a mosquito, just in case it is his or her grandfather reincarnated.

deadrate: γood

official site | imdb

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