Grief is such a multifaceted emotion; it makes sense that so many films have been based around the simple idea of how to process it. “After Yang”, the latest film from South Korean writer/director Kogonada (“Columbus”) is one such film, adding some science-fiction world building and generational outlooks to the tale in an effort to tell a story of sadness and death in the digital age.
The film follows Jake, played by Colin Farrell (“In Bruges,” “True Detective”), as he and his wife Kyra, played by Jodie Turner-Smith (“Queen & Slim,” “The Last Ship”), as they attempt to have their young daughter Mika’s, played by Malea Emma Tjandrawidjaja, android Yang, played by Justin H. Min (“The Umbrella Academy”), repaired after he ceases to function. This leads them on a journey of reflection as they think back on their lives and relationships with Yang, including a relationship he had with a young woman named Ada, played by Haley Lu Richardson (“Unpregnant,” “The White Lotus”).
“After Yang” is a visual treat to be certain. The simple but elegant designs of this near-future world are quietly beautiful, but it’s in the little details where the world is fleshed out further. For example, seeing Mika get a pet fish from a pet shop and bring it home in a glass container that almost resembles a fish bowl mixed with an action figure packaging helps to build the futuristic world the film occupies.
There’s plenty of brutalist architecture mixed with open doorways hidden by curtains that gives the entire film a very different feel from the neon “hard sci-fi” worlds of other future-set films. It’s also one of the few recent films to feature shifting aspect ratios where the change complements the film. Each shift is not only consistent but purposeful, with differing levels of film grain and color grading to give each a distinct punctuation.
Farrell’s performance is understated, but with intent. His grief is confusing and heavy, and we the audience are allowed to piece it together with him. This never hides the immense charm Farrell has when on-screen, and its utilized well here. Turner-Smith is also great, and her performance as well as the film itself do wonders in showcasing a different kind of grief compared to her husband’s. She’s still grieving, but processing it differently, helping to connect the film’s main theme.
Richardson is just as great as she’s ever been, if a bit underutilized by the film. She makes an impact, but simply isn’t in the story as much as the other characters, diminishing said impact and character in the plot slightly. Min is so excellent as Yang; he gives such a wonderfully understated and curious performance. It’s childlike without being childish, calm without being boring, and emotionally resonant without being sappy. It’s such a fantastically simple performance that sneaks up on you with its excellence.
As wonderfully acted and quietly emotional the film is, it can’t shake the generally slowness of its pace. It’s absolutely a deliberate choice, not some after effect or accident. But the fact of the matter is that even if it is deliberate, it limits the appeal of the film slightly. This is a well told story that looks gorgeous and has some great acting, but it’s also quiet, slow, with plenty of moments of simply sitting quietly as characters think to themselves and mumble quietly. It’s on purpose but is nevertheless a bit alienating.
“After Yang” is a simple and wonderful movie, the kind where you lean back when its over and smile to yourself, thinking “that was a good movie.” Its emotions are complicated and well-acted, and it’s just an overall gorgeous project to watch. Its slowness can be a bit of a hurdle for some, but it doesn’t take away from the tale being told and the power of its examination of grief. 4/5
No comments:
Post a Comment