Farewell, My Darling (1996)

Farewell, My Darling begins and ends with images that strangely allude to future films by Park Chul-soo. We begin with a woman Push-Push-ing a baby into a dream of the patriarch, Mr. Park (Choi Seong). And it ends, (don't worry, this doesn't spoil it), with a snapshot reminiscent of Kazoku Cinema. As much as any director in South Korea, this continuity across films further underscores Park's intent to chronicle the changes that a Modernizing Korea has wrought and gifted.

And what more perfect a venue to explore those changes than the rituals surrounding that which never changes? Death. The family of Mr. Park returns to the village where the family was reared following Mr. Park's death. The cast of characters brings a circus to town of dreams met and deferred. Pal-bong (Kim Il-woo) returns from Seoul with the bling-bling of his new high-rolling status, fancy car, trophy wife, and child as accessory. Chan-sae (Park Jae-hwang) travels across the Pacific from America with his bible in hand and gospel music on tape. Chan-suk (Choo Kwi-jeong) finally makes the funeral only to open up old wounds that desperately need dressing. All the while Mr. Park's brother acts as the village elder who tries to wield an iron voice to force all to perform within his understanding of the proper rituals. His efforts are mostly in vain, however, for each party at this party mourns in their own way, from the calculated hysterics of the Aunties to the sincere gesture of Pa-yoo (Kim Bong-kyu) offering a bottle of pop (Yes, I'm from the Midwest) to deceased Mr. Park.

Although I often mistakenly call this film Farewell My Concubine, the more appropriate films to compare with Farewell, My DARLING are Juzo Itami's The Funeral and Im Kwon-taek's Festival. Itami's film is a comedy that successfully transcended cultures in its display of Modern Japan's forgotten traditions. Several comedic moments also erupt throughout Park's film, such as Pal-bong, placing cashier's checks rather than won in the pot for Mr. Park's trip to the afterlife. Park's film, while showing what's been lost by South Korea's quick Modernization, also shows what traditions remain and what new ones have emerged. Interestingly enough, Im's Festival, about a matriach's passing, was made in the same year as Park's film. Im has said Festival served two purposes for him: to document Korean traditions at risk of extinction and to resolve his guilt around never performing hyodo (children's filial duty to their parents) for his mother. Park documents these same traditions, although not as meticulously as Im, such as feeding rice to the corpse and placing a marble between the corpse's lips. And including a director, Chan-woo, as one of the characters -- acted by Park Chul-soo himself -- we can not help but presume the character is a self-critique, similar to the role Ahn Sung-ki's character seems to play for Im in Festival. Interestingly, Chan-woo is asked to stand aside by his Uncle, allowing his younger brother to assume the role of the eldest son, since Chan-woo has been away from the village for so long, he is less familiar with the necessary rituals required.

Although the intrusion within the frame of disruptive sunlight in some scenes can be explained away as a desired documentary effect, the bad makeup, (or poor lighting of the actors and actresses that reveals the obvious makeup), is not something we can excuse. Such poor production reminds us how the high quality we've come to expect from Korean films had yet to take shape by 1996. Despite these flaws and the plethora of characters that are unnecessarily confusing at times, what Park's film shows most vividly is the community that emerges from moments that signify life's stages. As weddings are often more for the parents than the bride and groom, so are funerals often more for the living than the dead. This funeral is a time to eat, gossip, campaign, and transact business. And it is a time for traditions to be passed on through mimicry, such as the delightful scene where Pa-yoo repeats everything the men say, through repetition, such as the constant preparing and re-preparing of food, flipping of pa jun, pouring of soju, and through assimilation, such as the communal viewing of a Korean soap opera amongst the women, the snapping of gender-segregated photographs, and the very portrayal of all these events within this film.