Last night, I watched the Korean film, Poetry. It was long, but not too long. I'm not sure what I would have cut from it and many of the long, slow scenes were beautiful and felt worth the time spent in them.
The film is as much about art in general as it is poetry specifically, but I thought it was a lovely reminder that self-awakening and discovery is as much painful and devestating as it is enlightening and invigorating. Perhaps the best part about it was this focus didn't come off as nihilistic or anti-art. It was just a reminder that should you dare to look and create from what you see, the risks are as mighty as the rewards.
Watch the trailer here. The lead actress (Yun Jung-hee) was brilliant and I loved the director's (Lee Chang-dong) statement.
These are times when poetry is dying away. Some lament such loss and others claim, “Poetry deserves to die.” Regardless, people continue to read and write poetry.
What does it mean then to be writing poetry when prospects of
an ongoing future seem dismal? This is a question I want to pose
to the public.
But in fact, it is a question I pose to myself as a filmmaker: What does it mean to be making films at times when films are dying away?