Hong makes me weep. Whenever a scene is reframed with a continuous shot via zooms and slight turns of the camera left and right, I am truly shaken. These techniques are equally effective as, if not more effective than, a cut would be. This is not necessarily because they allow for a better 'flow,' but rather because they efficiently utilize the space being captured while not breaking the illusion of 'real' time. (Cuts have been utilized for the same/similar purposes by many/most great filmmakers, but I think this unique method Hong often employs works rather well for him). I get at why sort of indirectly in subsequent musings). This has become invaluable to me, at least as a comforting aspect of Hong's films. I am truly appreciative. On top of this, whenever this reframing isolates a character, or a portion of one—typically the head, sometimes keying in on the eyes and mouth—a stronger sense of interiority is often reached. Indeed, this aspect could easily veer into the realm of artificiality—so why doesn't it? Well, the answer to this question is easier felt than explained/answered. I will, however, attempt to do so. I believe one reason is the construction of the settings and situations such in which techniques are employed. These are often communal events, where our characters are eating, drinking, philosophizing, talking, laughing, crying, patronising and humiliating (oneself and/or others). In taking such liberties in the courts of many/a few, Hong creates a constant playground of experimentation where one or more people exemplify their own narrative (personal) within the narrative (a scene/situation) within the (the wider film). Example: On the third day, the first time they leave Novel (the bar we'd become quite familiar with), Sungjoon, Youngho, and Boram are walking together. We begin with a static shot, simply showing the trio, jovial and drunk, walking towards us. Once they get closer, they come to a halt, discussing the occasion of Sungjoon's arrival (this includes his reason for visiting, the duration of his stay, his relationship with Youngho, etc.). "You two are close [...] It's misleading. [...] Looks like something's going on between you two," Boram says. They all laugh, and Ypungho briefly reminisces on the serenity of a past time he and Sungjoon had, inhaling through his nose, taking in the air that "smells like those days." As he does this, the camera zooms in, capturing the two "lovers" (as they jokingly put it) overjoyed, before they walk into the night. Now, this order of operations is slightly different than what may have been imagined above, as the narrative¹ (film as a whole) is condensed into narrative³ (a singluar person) before it retreats to narrative² (the dynamic). While I've typically seen 2 before 3—condensing the frame smaller and smaller, shrinking it's subjects—I'd say the two are often interchangeable (1 comes first at times as well). I say all this to say: these formal methods are dramatically affecting, truly. I, too, have this Pavlovian response. More to be said. Shoutout all involved. RIP Kim Bo-kyung.
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