‘By the Stream’ Review: Hong Sangsoo’s Wry, Strangely Sweet Ode to Art, Love and Eel

As a seasoned cinephile with over two decades of film-watching under my belt, I find myself drawn to the quiet, introspective world of Hong Sangsoo. With “By the Stream,” his 32nd feature, he once again captivates me with his gentle, yet poignant storytelling. This time, set against the backdrop of a rustic autumnal landscape, the film is a testament to the director’s ability to weave narratives that are as muted and oblique as they are intriguing.

“By the Stream,” Hong Sangsoo’s 32nd film, begins in a familiar manner to his previous works, with two individuals who are not strangers yet not overly familiar either, exchanging polite greetings. A comment, “You haven’t changed at all,” is made prematurely, hinting at the transformation or forgetfulness that unfolds throughout the story. Unlike other Hong films, this one carries a soft autumnal chill and rich russet tones, making it distinct as a subtle comedic exploration of actors, scholars, and dreams. For devoted fans of the director, it offers a comforting yet hesitant welcome.

In 2024, the second film by the renowned South Korean director (who won the Berlinale prize for “A Traveler’s Needs”), premiering at the Locarno Film Festival, is expected to be less widely viewed than his first release that year. Both films are subtly complex and enigmatic, a trait characteristic of this director, but “By the Stream” delves deeper into ambiguity as a character exploration – perhaps too deeply, making it challenging to attract mainstream arthouse audiences. However, the film’s devoted fans will appreciate its whimsical romantic undertone and two captivating, light-footed performances by regular cast members Kwon Haehyo and Kim Minhee, who portray characters on self-discovery journeys.

It’s Sieon Kwon, once a respected actor who now runs a bookstore, who notices to his niece Jeonim Kim in the opening scene that she appears unchanged. However, Jeonim disputes this, stating that her life has experienced an unexpected change. She can’t reciprocate the usual compliment, and it’s clear she’s struggling to find the words. Sieon’s acting career seems to have taken a hit — hints are dropped about his criticizing others, which led to him being criticized in return — but he moves with a subdued demeanor, suggesting he’s learned to keep a low profile. Jeonim, a quiet and shy art teacher at a Seoul university for women, asks him for a favor more fitting for his past self: Her department is participating in the annual sketch play festival, and she wants him to write and direct their entry.

Reminiscing about the good old days, not just my time on stage, but my youthful foray into a similar competition, I find myself agreeing, albeit a tad displeased to discover I’m the understudy. The original director was ousted, it seems, for private indiscretions with three cast members. While this light-hearted film isn’t a commentary on cancel culture per se, there’s a subtle nod to the public scandal that swirled around my past affair with Kim, now my partner and production manager. Auntie Jeonim needn’t fret about Uncle repeating such mistakes. When she presents him to her boss, the ardent Sieon admirer Jeong (Cho Yunhee), the mutual attraction is as clear as day.

In the signature style of Hong’s work, Jeong invites Sieon for lunch at her preferred eel restaurant, marking the start of a series of lunch and dinner dates filled with glances laden with meaning. Jeonim, who seems to be an unwilling third wheel, adds to the complexity. The director masterfully portrays the intricate relationships through food choices (is seafood porridge a sign of a blossoming romance or its end?), eating habits, and notably, their selection of drinks – starting with careful wine and later moving to the more relaxed makgeolli. As the culinary courtship continues, the storyline takes a backseat, while Jeonim, a solitary artist who enjoys sketching by the local stream and even sleeps outdoors during fall, becomes increasingly withdrawn.

As a film enthusiast with over two decades of experience under my belt, I find Hong Sangsoo’s films to be a unique and captivating exploration of human emotions and relationships. His storytelling technique, which focuses on subtle glances, pauses, and moon phases, creates an intimate atmosphere that allows the audience to truly connect with his characters. The unexpected emotional outbursts add an element of unpredictability that keeps me engaged throughout each film.

2024-08-16 16:46

‘By the Stream’ Review: Hong Sangsoo’s Wry, Strangely Sweet Ode to Art, Love and Eel

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