Cynical
critics might label So-dam a “manic pixie dream girl” (its one of their
cliched terms), but she is way too laidback
for the manic part. Nevertheless, she seems to have extraordinary powers of
communication and strange things just happen around her. Regardless, she is
determined to help two middle-aged man-children mature and move on with their
lives in screenwriter-director Zhang Lu’s Fukuoka, which opens tomorrow
in Korea.
Grouchy
Je-moon thinks the twenty-one-year-old So-dam is a nut, because she constantly
hangs out in his dark used bookstore and always wants to talk to him. He might
have a point about that, even though he is the one hearing voices during the
opening scene. Weirdly, she wants to travel with him to Fukuoka on Kyushu
Island, but since he has a former friend there, Je-moon agrees to the
suggestion.
He
and Hae-hyo used to be close, but they had a falling out when they both fell in
love with the same woman. Instead of choosing, she dropped out of college and
disappeared from both their lives. It is twenty-eight years later, but neither
has gotten over it. Initially, Hae-hyo resents their visit, but So-dam is a
positive influence on them. They keep arguing like cats and dogs, but that is
clearly what they like to do. Meanwhile, So-dam successfully draws out many of
the neighborhood locals, conversing in Korean to native Japanese and expat
Chinese speakers, with perfect comprehension (it is sort of like the linguistic
mash-up in El Hipnotizador, but the characters recognize it happening
and think it is odd).
The
fantastical elements of Fukuoka are so light and understated, it is unclear
whether they really are fantastical. Still, So-dam clearly has powers of
universal translation and Hae-hyo believes he recently talked to a dead man, so
maybe there is something a little out there going on.
Yet,
it doesn’t matter all that much, because Zhang’s film is so wry and intriguing.
He really out Hong Sang-soos Hong Sang-soo, while adding delicately subtle
supernatural elements. By rejecting conventional scoring, Zhang evokes a vivid
sense of place solely through ambient noise. Few filmmakers have a better sense
of when to step back and let their films breath organically.
