The Woman Who Ran

House visits, shared meals and dialogue, are themes that this movie is based on. It is a simple movie, with unique details, and yet with no so simple theme. It is a story of a young woman trying to find her own path, trying to define herself. She visits her friends and, maybe to keep it safe, tells the same suspiciously repetitive story of her life to each of them. She tries not to stray too far away from the society, however we know that she already did.

I really liked the finishing of scenes with zooming in on characters´faces, including a stray cat. Just a little touch to give the viewer even more intimate perspective, beyond the dialogue we hear. It seems to be an inaudible comment saying: which version of "I" are we: the one that we present to others, or the private one, known only by ourselves?

It is a good, simple, yet not boring movie. To me, it lacked a bit of surprise or complexity of plot for a higher score.

PS Korean fashion is really aesthetically pleasing.

TWWR is about an extremely thin woman who visits three friends, separately, while her husband (who may not exist) is away on a trip. With each friend she eats and drinks and talks. This is a fairly common device for when there's no other action to be getting on with: meals, a substitute for drama which you will see in any soap opera you care to name.

Pleasant enough to look at, well acted on the whole and interesting for a glimpse of middle-class Korean life, which seems to be exactly like any other middle class life. Some of the crash zooms are a bit clumsy, maybe the camera was old. Rather slow - people park their cars, try on coats, watch films, eat, drink and talk. Only two men appear, which may be a positive for you. Middle class Korea looks, er, nice. Seoul house prices are discussed at length.

The dramatic tension appears to rest in the fact that no matter how much she eats, she gets thinner and thinner. She doesn't do any running. Does she have worms? The question is left unresolved.

This is a comfort movie. The older you get, the more sensible you become. It is funny looking back into the past when we meet the familiar faces. Friendships, aquaintances, love, marriage, divorce, separation, loneliness, happiness, sadness, betrayals, and all other things together patched up. Sometimes we do need the closure even if it doesnt bothers so much. Remember everything that we worry about now wont even be an issue few years down the line.

Absurd dialogues, movie is shot like a school project, I feel like I wasted my time which will never get back.

A film in three sections, the first of which was easily 10 stars for me. Not really like anything I've ever seen, though the long takes, simple framing and meandering but always engaging dialogue is reminiscent of Rohmer. Also as in Rohmer, the abundant chatting gives the characters plenty of space to reveal the peculiarities and even little aggressions behind their seemingly bland, friendly normality. What's really new is how effortlessly, almost inexplicably funny all this is. I was just delighted by this part, by its originality, sheer, rare intelligence and perfect subtlety. Virtually nothing else in cinema now reaches these kinds of heights and, watching on Mubi as I was, where one is all too aware of this, I was feeling immensely relieved: 'Finally, something good.'

Then the second section starts, our 30s female protagonist visits another friend and a sinking feeling set in as I realised the comedy was gone and wasn't coming back. Was I just in it for the yuks? No, damnit, the funny part was also the smart part that had something to say, and the writing of which was like a delicate high wire act. After that, the film kneecaps itself with its own self-conscious, humourless pursuit of profundity, and where part 1 was subtle, the lunging at the depths is almost embarrassingly blunt.

It's like the film is dumping on the first section, on its own best part, telling us it was all just a bit of fun before we got to the serious, important, grown-up stuff. But look how banal that stuff is. Did we really need to meet the second friend to learn, yet again, that the single life is hard, or the third to learn, again yet again, that marriage is often no better? Did we, in particular, need the protagonist's repetition in each of these sections of the same info about her life with her husband? Yes, it arguably takes on new inflections each time, but the first was already weird and easily the most interesting, precisely because it was delivered as if it was perfectly fine.

It's all reminiscent of the lesson anyone learns if they take a decent improv class: those things you think you need to do to justify the piece are done out of insecurity and are bad.