Tag: drone

Scattered Night (Heuteojin Bam)

Posted on by Jeremy Clarke

Their dad Seung-won (Lim Hojun) hasn’t been around much recently. Then he and their mother Yoon-hee (Kim Hye-young) break it to their two kids Su-min (Moon Seung-a) and her slightly elder brother Jin-ho (Choi Jun-woo) that they’ve decided to split up and live apart. The question is, which of the two parents will either or both of the kids live with afterwards? Rather than fight over them, the parents leave it up to each of the kids to decide that for themselves.

Their mother is an ambitious teacher who pushes her students hard. Their father is much more relaxed aboutsuch things, so that’s one difference between the two right there. Jin-ho is studying with his mum at her school for his own exams, so it’s likely that he would move in with mum rather than dad. That just leaves Su-min, but she’s totally conflicted about which way to go.

If she lives with mum and elder brother, she has the advantage that she and her sibling are living under the same room. The two kids get along pretty well, so ther’s no reason why she wouldn’t want that. On the other hand, she likes dad a lot too. And she has problems understanding the fact that the relationship has broken down. Can’t they just get back together again?, she asks.

We never see Jin-ho that much outside the family unit (although we see him studying for exams with mum) but we see quite a bit of Su-min playing with Yu-chan, a boy of around her own age. Dad has given Jin-ho a drone for his birthday, but he’s so busy with exams that it’s Su-min who borrows it and plays with it.

After the overbearing Yu-chan takes the remote out of her hands to have a go then gets distracted and crashes and damages the drone, the understandably upset Jin-ho shows remarkable patience and forebearance to his sister, even going so far as reapiring the damaged drone so she can play with it again. He seems to be good at dealing with people and we suspect that he’s goig to be okay dealing with his parents’ break up.

Su-min, however, finds it all much more difficult. She’s very keen to go on a trip to Lake Park with the family if a bit miffed that her brother will stay behind to study. A family discussion goes in her favour, perhaps taking a little it too much advantage of Jin-ho’s good nature: the parents decree that whoever Su-min decides each of the two kids should live with, that’s the way it’ll be. She can see that her brother will likely end up with mum, but as for herself she finds it impossible to decide one way of the other.

All of which leads to a family trip in the car where she goes missing and parents and elder brother search for her. There’s no point in a spoiler to explain how it all works out – or doesn’t – but this is not really the sort of film where that’s a big deal – it’s a drama based around the characters, particularly the little girl, not a plot in need of resolution. Suffice to say, the film ends at a very interesting place which is utterly consistent with what it’s about.

The shooting style is deceptively simple – a handheld camera following characters around their home or in odd locations like the school, the car, the park, or playing in the nearby streets. It unfolds at a gentle pace yet you can feel the issue of the impending separation pressing in on Su-min and affecting her young life. In the end, it’s a striking portrait of a young girl dealing with issues she’d rather she didn’t have to face at all. It played prfectly well to an audience of adults as the closing LKFF film, but this is also a film that some children might well enjoy with their parents too – although it’s a long way from being a children’s film as such, confronting as it does with some quite tough, grown up relationship issues.

Scattered Night plays in LKFF, The London Korean Film Festival.

Thursday, November 14th, 19.00, Regent Street Cinema, London – book here.

Tuesday, November 19th, 20.20, Glasgow Film Theatre, Glasgow – book here.

Thursday, November 21st, 18.20, Queen’s Film Theatre, Belfast – book here.

Sunday, November 24th, 13.15, Broadway Cinema, Nottingham – book here.

Watch a clip below:

Extinction (Extinção)

Posted on by Jeremy Clarke

Conversations. In Russian. At border checkpoints between countries in the former Soviet Union. And at places in between. Monuments, striking architecture. Much less arresting locations, too. Some of these conversations are accompanied by black and white footage. Very occasionally, someone’s lips move and you see and hear them speaking at the same time, but most of the time, you don’t. Other conversations are accompanied by blank, dark blue footage, nothing but the uniform colour on the screen (unless you count the white, English language subtitles), just people talking on the soundtrack. Monologues discussing various aspects of modern, Russian history and the ethnic diversity of the countries bordering it also appear on the soundtrack along with unsettling music ranging from avantgarde orchestral to drone.

Kolja comes from Transnistria, formerly part of the Moldavian Socialist Soviet Republic (now a self-proclaimed republic, not recognised by any other countries). He has a passport, so he’s travelling, the interpreter on a film crew making a film about Russia and borders and ethnicity. It might be this film or it might be a film we never see. For much of the time we see him driving to or from Eastern Bloc border checkpoints or being questioned by officials in rooms about his nationality and loyalty. Although it clearly has its own identity, with which he identifies, Transnistria doesn’t appear to be recognised by any other country.

As Kolja crosses over and waits in between a seemingly endless series of borders between one country and another – actually five in number – the very idea of nationality, of separate nation states, seems to diminish in significance to the point of evaporation into thin air. Although when at one point he dismisses the suggestion that he might want to live in the EU, you can see him complying with the idea of borders inside his head. A citizen of nowhere? A citizen of somewhere?

In places shots are held for some considerable length of time, whether it’s the opening shot of Kolja’s face against a background of white walls in a waiting room somewhere as we hear him questioned at length by border official on the soundtrack or a passenger seat shot of him driving through nondescript territory.

Much of the time, nothing really happens. It’s a lot like the effect of 2001, watching someone perform mundane tasks or, more often here, wait around for officials to perform their functions so the people in question can move on. As I wrote of Kubrick’s SF outing on its recent reissue, there’s something quite hypnotic about the mundane. If anything, that effect is even stronger here – the vivid black and white images lend an almost dreamlike quality to the whole thing and there are no dramas to suddenly leap out of the humdrum.

It’s barely even a narrative, more like a very strange and empty yet somehow unforgettable surreality, memorable as much for the places in which events (don’t) occur as it is for the things people say and the ideas that float around within their words. At their most focused and extreme, the content of those words explore incidences of genocide under Stalin.

Anyone looking for cinematic equivalents might recognise the feeling of the languorous waking dream from Tarkovsky narratives (Ivan’s Childhood/1962, Stalker/1979) or the bleak architectural images and mom-synchronised voice over of early, pre-feature film Cronenberg (Stereo/1969, Crimes Of The Future/1970). But again, both these examples look positively action-packed by comparison with Extinction – a film which might, just might, be destined for cult status.

Nation states seemingly have mechanisms to exert control over people, but in the end that really doesn’t matter in vision of the female Portuguese filmmaker Salomé Lamas: no matter how much states try to confine those who reside in or pass through them, people and their words, thoughts and consciousness potentially transcend all that.

Extinction is out in the UK on Friday, July 20th. Watch the film trailer below: