[K-FILM REVIEWS] 내 사랑 유리에 (My Love, Yurie)

What could happen if Goethe's Faust, Bagdad Cafe' and a wild machismo kitsch fantasy filled with mother-whore dichotomies clashed together? Quite likely something as insanely pretty as Go Eun-Gi's 내 사랑 유리에 (My Love, Yurie). If calling a deserted gas station in the middle of an endless prairie “하늘 (more than simple sky, the 天/heaven flavor)” weren't enough, the idyllic vision that captures young Dong-Ah's imagination is a counter girl from the “Papa Motel,” who also happens to be a prostitute (surprise surprise). Her name is Young-Ja, Go Young-Ja, as corny and tempting a name as a trip down memory lane led by Yeom Bok-Sun in 영자의 전성시대 (Young-Ja's Heydays). In forlorn places like these, it seems all a man needs in life are gas and whores, and enough imagination to fill in the blanks. But she couldn't possibly be a mere whore to him. Young-Ja is like an angel selling her charms to pagans, a vision of perfection tainted by demons, enough to make him start calling her Yurie. Yurie, the mother and the saint, the personification of eternal love, the spark that lights up Dong-Ah's emotional fireworks. And, well, since we're there, his pants as well.

But, ha! Deceitful is the evil soul producing holy witness, like a villain with a smiling cheek. Dong-Ah's ultimate foe, a Fu Manchu looking like the love child of a 70s trot singer and an extra in a jopok comedy, is Mephistopheles himself, the devil, Yurie's father. And he just happens to endeavor in pimping to make ends meet -- or maybe it's another figment of Dong-Ah's macho fantasy? Even Mario needed his baddies on the way to save Princess Peach, although there's no mushrooms to give you extra lives here. If you can't beat 'em, join them, as they say. So he decides to stop fantasizing about his Yurie, and experience a decade of passionate love with her instead. The price to pay? But of course, his soul, which now becomes property of Belzebub himself. Ten years have passed, the two lovebirds have become fluent in the ways of the Kamasutra, and there's even a little gift cooking in the oven. But a sinister presence suddenly arrives riding a black 90s Korando jeep, like all proper villains should do. You can't see the horns, and Dong-Ah can't remember him. But he sure can, just like he remembers a promise made ten years earlier...

What does it take to change one's outlook on filmmaking? Or, better, are all the poor film debuts we've experienced in the past ten years an inevitable side dish of the amazing boom the industry went through, and not necessarily an indication of a director's true talents? Who, for instance, could have predicted Won Shin-Yeon of passable horror 가발 (The Wig) would have something brilliant like 구타유발자들 (A Bloody Aria) waiting in line? Or that he'd go on to direct the very watchable and successful 세븐 데이즈 (Seven Days), to be followed by a über-ambitious live-action reshuffling of the 로보트 태권 V (Robot Taekwon V) legend? The fact horror films have become producers' new favorite prostitute has in many ways killed two birds with a stone. First, it hid the potential of many younger directors, forced to move within the limitations of a genre they mostly didn't care about in the first place. Second, obviously, it hurt the genre itself.

In the same vein, was something like 뚫어야 산다 (Dig or Die), the film which gave light to Go Eun-Gi's career, a mere bastard child of the jopok comedy craze; a prepackaged, committee-scripted affair banking on a few stars, the usual allegedly successful concepts, and thrown in the hands of a debuting filmmaker? Technically, it wasn't really a jopok comedy. But you could find all the trappings, from toilet humor to idiotic slapstick characters and the assorted fusion jazz of swear words that became the genre's own prose. More than anything, it wasted the considerable talents of Park Ye-Jin, whose career is still being compromised by bad choices, despite having the three fundamentals to make it big as an actress (acting chops, charisma, beauty) in Chungmuro. Still, it could have been just a case, because director Go did have a promising past in short films, just like many of the big names which colored the new rainbow of Korean cinema from the mid 90s on.

Go was in fact one of the few directors who formed the indie group “Young Cinema” in 1994, with director Lee Song Hee-Il of 후회하지 않아 (No Regret) being the most famous member. Through this workshop he was able to make a few acclaimed short films, particularly 액체들 (Liquids) in 1999, which traveled to the Huesca International Short Film Festival, Montecatini, Busan and more. After he started raising eyebrows in 2001 with the short 챠오 (Ciao) in 2001, Go was finally given greenlight for his debut, which turned out to be a disaster like Dig or Die. It wouldn't be the first time a promising short film director got in through the back door, getting handed a commercial project with few frills to start with. But the results were so shockingly bad, even Go himself must have felt the need to reflect. Call it a psychological reaction of all those commercial trappings meeting with the business side of things, but Go went on to start his own indie production company, emphatically called “예민한 감성의 공격적 딸기나무 (Sensitive and Aggressive Strawberry Tree).” That's got to be the coolest name a film production company has ever had. Or how about “Bittersweet and Indomitable Jalapeño?”

What came after that helps explain Go's change of heart about filmmaking, and might even highlight the fact Dig or Die was something producers just threw at the wall hoping it would stick, not something he was happy with himself. Go's first feature film after he started his own company was to be the first of a trilogy about love, 풀밭위의 식사 (Dinner on the Grass), clearly titled after Manet's Le Déjeuner sur l'herbe. It's not just a passing reference, or a cool title Go wanted to use for himself. Manet's classic, which shocked French audiences in the mid 19th Century pairing a group of dandies and a nude woman dining inside a dream-like forest, helps explaining the director's newfound style.

Better than the painting himself, explaining Go's 2004 film and the second in the trilogy 내 사랑 유리에 (My Love, Yurie) are Émile Zola's words about Manet's style, calling him an analytic painter, going against the masses' obsession with subject. Using the subject as a pretext to paint is exactly what you'll find in My Love, Yurie, whose cinematography and stunning visuals eat alive whatever story lies dormant in the wings.

It's a sad state of affairs when independent films are granted attention only because of sensational issues, but I guess that's par for the course, with so many tabloid “journalists” in Korea obscuring proper film critique like that of Cine21 or Film2.0. My Love, Yurie was briefly mentioned sorely for two reasons: one, its having plenty of very revealing sex scenes, which are always the big red Cylon splot on the radars of those superficial scribes (not that I'm complaining); the second, perhaps a little nastier, was simply because lead Kang Hee was actually the boyfriend of the late Jung Da-Bin, who committed suicide early last year. Forget the fact Kang had a solid background in theater. All the brouhaha surrounding the tragedy (Jung was last found in his apartment) evidently attached a label to the young actor, who only now makes his debut, after a single Music Video appearance.

It's hard to judge his performance disconnected from the film: we're dealing with a very in your face concept, with 70% of the dialogue coming in the way of voiceovers, another good portion with the actors staring at the camera talking to the audience, and whatever is left dominated by the film's surreal atmosphere. Kang takes a while to get going, with the first fifteen minutes betraying insecurity. But as the film goes deeper into the surreal, his performance grows stronger and stronger, culminating into a satisfying whole. The young actor shows potential, perhaps needing a few more meaty supporting roles to sharpen the edges, but it's nonetheless a good debut.

For what concerns the lovely Go Da-Mi, we have another promising young actress to look forward to, it seems. But the most interesting thing is her career paths itself. After some experience in Daehakro, the mecca of Korean theater, all young Go wanted to become was a manager. Yet, after intense training, she ended up getting cast in the quirky sex comedy 내 여자의 남자친구 (Cheaters), after which she even debuted on cable TV, with the Sex and The City-esque vibes of 로맨스 헌터 (Romance Hunter). After a string of CF contracts and even a gravure photoshoot, Go starred in the erotic comedy 야설극장 – 색녀유혼 (Erotic Theater) on cable (which, like most dramas on Korean cable, was an hilariously inept excuse to dress up sex scenes with a story on the side).

That she's getting so often typecast in revealing roles at such a young age might actually influence her career negatively. But Go has a spunky and spontaneous energy and charisma which should come handy if she ever decides to strip herself (eh, bad pun) of that initial image. With a background in theater, she certainly has the fundamentals, as the juxtaposition of dramatic and comic tone shows in My Love, Yurie. Now all she needs are more films like this, showing her range and not just banking on headline-grabbing sex scenes.

Still, the best performance comes from the devil himself, Kim Joon-Bae. To film fans even the slightest bit familiar with recent Korean Cinema, he'll certainly be one of those faces without a name whose explosive personality captures you, like the Oh Dal-Soo and Oh Gwang-Rok of the past (now I guess most people remember their names as well). The Daehak-ro veteran had small but convincing roles in countless films, from 킬리만자로 (Kilimanjaro) to 고독이 몸부림 칠때 (Sweet Sixties), from Lee Myung-Se's insane masterpiece 형사 Duelist to 무방비 도시 (Open City). Yet, ironically, his best performance outside of My Love, Yurie was actually in a short drama on TV, the Coen Brothers-like brilliant black comedy 저수지 (Reservoir).

For those who enjoy visual storytelling, My Love, Yurie could be quite a find. The way director Go uses the beautiful landscapes as a canvas is impressive, with majestic flow and some incredibly beautiful shots. The out-of-this-world surreal atmosphere, the wit and tongue in cheek approach to the characters in the first half is quite charming, and we're dealing with explosive personalities. Yet, this is quite a verbose film, perhaps 15 minutes too long, and possibly falling prey to its own mannerisms. You can kill by voiceovers, like Wong Kar-Wai, but you can die by the same sword, like this film's overbearingly long-winded finale.

There's also the issue of Dong-Ah's idea of eternal love, which turns out to be no more than a male fantasy, the kind you could extrapolate from any melodrama of the 70s. Yet, the film is so focused on Dong-Ah's fantasy world and all its surreal manifestations you could end up forgiving the rather outdated portrayal of women in this “fairy tale for adults.” In many ways, well worth a look.

RATING: 7

내 사랑 유리에 (My Love, Yurie)
DIRECTOR: 고은기 (Go Eun-Gi)
SCREENPLAY: 고은기 (Go Eun-Gi)
D.P.: 윤지운 (Yoon Jee-woon)
MUSIC: 정용진 (Jung Yong-Jin)
Produced by: Strawberry Tree
Int'l Sales: Activers Entertainment
113 Minutes, 35mm/HD 1.85:1 Color
Release: 1/31/2008
CAST: 강희 (Kang Hee), 고다미 (Go Da-Mi), 김준배 (Kim Joon-Bae)
양영조 (Yang Yeong-Jo), 구혜령 (Gu Hye-Ryeong)
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