At the beginning of the "L'Abri"-screening (which I discuss somewhere else) at the film market MIFED in Milano, CJ Entertainment's young sales responsible asked me: "Which Korean films have you bought?" - "All of them", I answered, to make a point: Korean's movies were just unbeatable in 2002. Then I confessed that I was actually a journalist, not a buyer. The young man surprised me with another question: "Did you cry at the end of 'The Way Home'?" - "No", I said, thinking of my grandmother, "actually I cried at the end of OASIS."
Movies should move viewers. No hight tech genre film can beat what goes straight to your heart. The love of a naive, warmhearted fool (Sol Kyung-gu as Jong-du) to a spasmic beauty (Moon So-ri as Gong-ju) that is unable to walk and clearly articulate herself is attacked by both of their families. It could be considered a love between handicapped and thus underline the demand for a change of law which seems to have its flaws in Korea as well as here in Germany. Prohibited is the unthinkable, i.e. the sexual demands of those who are stigmatised to not have them. The sad outcome of the events is lightened by the unchangeable affection of the male protagonist. Feminists might argue against the easy way in which the attempt to rape the spasmic woman turns into mutual love. The real challenge for the excellent actress Moon So-ri was indeed to transmit whether we see joy or pain in her wincing mimic. Have you ever asked yourself how a person suffering from cerebral palsy would look during orgasm? See for yourself. The elegant camera moves from the common theme of the movie to dreamlike scenes where all of Gong-jus illness is gone. Her dancing with a young elephant had the same non-intellectual humor as the tree-cutting of Jong-du. When the lights go on in your theatre, you might ask yourself how deeply YOU are able to love.
