Honja saneun saramdeul

Aloners swiftly enchants its viewers with quiet and simple images that slowly build up the solitude of our protagonist. Ji-na isn't per se lonely, she might not even be unhappy, she simply chose to be alone, wafting through the weeks with single lunches and the ever-accompanying noise of technology. When a few encounters threaten to unravel her solitude she is forced to face her past, present and future. Hong Sung-eun's debut is so tender and warm and struck a deep cord within me. The way she uses the camera to portray Ji-Na's life, always focused, always following the same movements, never shattering to slowly making the young woman re-experience her surroundings is incredibly powerful. I especially appreciated Gong Seung-yeon's delicate performance as well as the script's refusal to make its aloners a bad thing - there can be comfort in being alone, and there might be a different comfort in finally connecting with people and life again. Absolutely incredible!

A young girl works at a call-in centre for a credit card company. Aside from greeting customers and looking at her cellphone constantly, she hasn't much of a social life. She is a misanthrope, avoiding any human interaction. When she is forced to have a trainee she is rude and abrupt to her.

All this is well done by the main actress (Jeong Da-eun) and she certainly can't be accused of over-acting. The film is also sprinkled with humour, which alleviates the atmosphere and prevents the film from being overly world-weary.

Obviously the purpose is to demonstrate the alienation and loneliness of young people in today's' world - yet hasn't this been a perennial problem - listen to some of the folk music from the 1960s.

We work the 9/5 to get along. We survive and yet we feel so disconnected by the people around us. I would compare this movie to Fight Club, but a drowned out introspective feminine version. It's a story about a woman working a job, living in a one room apartment, as life happens around her. Of course she doesn't have a murderous compulsion to do violence, but a slow realization that life isn't what it seems and that life is of the habit to keep us from living. If you are into film and understand the lifeless grind of working to survive, this movie hears you.

If you want a solid Korean movie about the working class that has zero frills and tons of humanity, this movie is for you. If you need action and still want some class consciousness, there is always Snowpiercer or Parasite. This one is a much more low key vibe.

This is a review for those who, like me, like to come back here after watching a film, just to see if anyone else shared their concluding thoughts. Thought there are no spoilers, this short review will only resonate with those who have already seen the film.

The director/writer felt the need to insert a few completely uneccessary and very implausible events into the plot, which almost spoiled what should have been a quite good viewing experience. Not sure if the "uneccesaries" were derived from cultural humor or whimsical creativity. Once again, without giving anything away, the silly implausibles were: the magazine death; the hidden camera confession; the restaurant seating incident.

Summary

Notable directorial debut by the Korean Hong Sung-eun, which exposes with a subtlety as extraordinary as it is forceful the crisis of a young woman who chose solitude as a way of life.

Review

A young woman leads a solitary existence until certain events begin to question that way of life.

Jina (or Jin-ah) works in a credit card customer service call center. She is a holojok, a term that defines in South Korea people who live alone in cities, without relatives, partners or friends. She avoids as much as possible any contact and verbal communication, unless it is unavoidable. The film recounts how certain circumstances begin to crack this emotional strength: the reunion with her father, being forced to train a new employee, the death of a neighbor, circumstances that force her to socialize and that in some cases constitute an uncomfortable mirror.

Hong Sung-eun's remarkable debut feature exposes with extraordinary subtlety what Jina is feeling (she is not the only lonely one in the story), in front of that game of mirrors that speak to her of her present and perhaps of her future and those interactions who lives as intrusions in his world dominated by efficient and dispassionate work and permanent connection to screens. The story is not content with sticking to the drama, but rather adds some disturbing elements and few but accurate touches of humor, creating a climate that captures the viewer. And always with what I call the "elegance" of South Korean fiction.

All of this could not work without the extraordinary performance of Gong Seung-yeon as Jina, who owns a mask of infinite shades that perfectly describe what she expresses and suggest what she hides.