“I believe that my films are not made to express a story, but to feature some fragments” – Hong Sang-soo.
A couple catch up in a cafe. Classical music plays on the stereo; apparently the cafe owner loves classical music. At times, the music swells and almost drowns out the conversation. Then again, what seems like a casual conversation can escalate into strong emotions. Voices raised, and in the corner sits A-reum (Kim Min-hee) typing on her laptop. Later, she is asked if she’s a writer. She answers no, and that it’s more of a diary for no-one else to read, yet we hear segments in voice-over. A-reum is the lynchpin for the conversations that surround her in this quiet cafe, hidden in the back-alleys of Seoul.
Grass (2018) is one of two movies that director-writer Hong Sang-soo released that year, and the previous year, he had three movies out. He is a prolific filmmaker, but they have similar elements: characters sit and chat, they are often playing actors, writers or directors, are often smoking, often drinking or talking about wanting to drink, and the camera frames things in a master shot, only to suddenly shift and zoom in occasionally. They are talky dramas, often starring the same actors (such as Seo Young-hwa, Jeong Jin-yeong, Joo-bong Ki, etc), and occasionally there might be a playful, or meta-element. A writer character mentions in Grass that he can’t seem to get away from himself, and even across the different conversations that we (and A-reum) eavesdrop upon, there are recurring themes: talk of relationships and complications within them, talk of suicide and grief over people lost, and talk of writing and acting, and where to find inspiration from.
I read somewhere that Grass took three days to film, and its short running length (66 minutes) is endearing. As a film, shot in black and white, taking place over one day and observing mundane moments, I really found Grass engaging and compelling. Making the everyday into something cinematic, allowing scenes to exist without explanation (such as a character walking up and down the steps in an apartment, back and forth) and only to be processed in contemplation with the others. It’s explicitly conscious of the small pleasures, in sitting together and drinking on an Autumn night, and how that might be all there. There are three or four Sang-soo directed movies on SBS OnDemand; this is the third I’ve watched and I look forward to delving further into his career. Recommended.
VHS Tracking 