Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter... and Spring

Perfect Simplicity

My review of this film should end with those two words. However, the 10 line minimum requirement that IMDb requires of all reviews belies the differences between my world and the world shown to me in Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter…and Spring. I understand why IMDb does not want 1000's of (apparently) useless two-word reviews in their database. However, I would hope that they could make an exception for this film.

Perfect: The film is as close to perfect as a film could get. No shot is presented to us, nor a line of dialog uttered that does not make us ponder and understand at the same time. The film is also beautiful. (Like the previous reviewer, I am a fan of Asian cinema and never tire of the stunning ability of Asian directors to capture beauty on film.) This film exceeds most other Asian films I have seen in the cinematography regard. However, its beauty is surprisingly deceptive. Like most great films, it surpasses the 'cinematography' level of beauty and delves into the beauty of existence through its story. For example, the Old Monk has a different pet during each 'season' of his life. This is not discussed by the characters nor shoved in our face by the director – as would have been done if Hollywood had done this film. It is merely background we experience and come to understand. Two days after viewing the film, I am still finding new reflections in my mind that encompass the cinematography, the literal story and the underlying context of the film.

Simplicity: This film approaches a level of cinematic Haiku. While I don't recall the entire dialog with any specificity, I am sure you could print the script on one page of paper. The amazing part is that while you are watching the film, you don't notice this. Every shot moves the story along. The simplicity of life as shown by the story is reflected in the simplicity of the film. After the film ended, I had a strong urge to move away from civilization and live – or die – in peace with nature. I enjoy (and have come to be too dependent upon) modern inventions, so I will stay at home. However, this film will remain in my heart. It does exactly what good story-telling is supposed to do: Take us completely out of our world and put us in another. There is no wonder that this film was selected for so many film festivals.

This film is a good example why cinema is called an art - this is not just another movie, but a real piece of art. The pleasure of seeing it belongs to the aesthetics, and it transcends beyond the action and beyond what only happens on screen, or what the characters say and do.

It is both a simple and complex story - the story of a life, catching all seasons of development of man: innocence of childhood - so quickly lost unfortunately, mistakes of the young age, tragedies of maturity , and wisdom coming with the old age.

The film is filmed at one location of a cut-breathing beauty. Beauty of nature is being maximized by the art of the camera. The soundtrack has little dialog, but the expressiveness of the actors makes the dialog useless. You feel the drama, you do not need to hear the words, and the music says more than words.

There are a lot of symbols in this movie, and I probably lost most of them because they belong to the Budhist culture. There are however many other symbols that speak to the European spectator - the cycles of life, the rhythms of nature, the magic figure 4, like the number of seasons of the year, or like the number of parts in classic symphony, the unity of space as in Greek tragedy, and time - one life instead of one day, all give to this creation a wonderful symmetry and equilibrium.

Worth seeing, this is a film that will make the delight of anybody who believes like I do that cinema is an art.

At the risk of boring you all senseless here are some observations off the top of my head.

THE HUT Representing the self. All the possessions and shelter needed is on the floating hut. When the young man can no longer live at peace and comfort in the hut then bad things transpire. He never commits lustful acts in the hut. When we seek happiness outside ourselves, we are never truly content.

THE DOORS The doors by the lakeside and in the hut are symbolic rather than prescriptive. The fact there are no walls means their use is not forced but elected. They represent morality and discipline. Morality is not defined by a higher power but by society and the self. By adopting the constraints the doors engender, self-discipline is attained. As soon as the young man transgresses these self-imposed boundaries, to sneak across to the young woman, then disaster follows.

THE DEAD ANIMALS The Master allows the young boy to let the animals die. He does not become an all powerful father figure, cleaning up after him, but allows him to make mistakes and suffer the consequences. Buddhism does not have a higher power but rather promotes self-awareness.

THE MILLSTONE AND BUDDHA Represent the twin stones of regret for killing the fish and the snake. What you do unto others, you do unto yourself. He has carried that karma around with him all his life until he transcends them both, carrying them to the top of the hill, near heaven. Here he cuts himself free and attains redemption through struggle.

THE MASTER Is a great teacher, but does not lecture. Hardly a word is spoken, but lessons are learned. A good teacher points the way for a student to discover self-evident knowledge for themselves.

THE MOTHER The veil, representing guilt and shame are ultimately the cause of her downfall. Hiding from the outside world can bring about ruin.

THE YOUNG BOY Both at the beginning and the end, represents us. A good life is attained not by the absence of bad thoughts, but rather by their mastery, so they have no hold over us. We choose our behaviour rather than it choose us. The new boy is not born without sin, but rather must walk his own path to divinity. The same actor playing the young boy show the eternal cycle of the human soul.

THE SEASONS The endless cycle of birth, growth and death.

This film left me speechless, and I still have a hard time putting how I feel about this movie into words. After seeing it the first time in the theater, my friend and I couldn't bring ourselves to say a word to each other...not even in the car on the ride back. The second time I saw it, after purchasing it, another friend and I walked around the campus for half an hour in silence. The third time, a friend and I sat in silence in her room for an hour after the movie was over. This film is that profound, touching, and moving.

Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter...Spring is the most beautiful movie I have ever seen. Visually it is fantastic, though several films surpass it in this aspect. However, the film manages to speak directly to the soul (or...failing to believe in the soul...something deep inside anyone watching it), and this is where it's beauty lies. Parts are so affecting that a painful nostalgia for a place you never knew overwhelms you.

I am sorry I cannot be more helpful...the quality that makes this movie so wonderful is well beyond words for me.

This is a hypnotic film to watch. The beauty of it lays in the simplicity in which it has been told. Director Ki-duk Kim's images feel like paintings by great masters.

This story about Karma and Buddist beliefs could have used a bit of trimming to make it more appealing, since at times it is too static. This is a film to stay away for those interested in fast action or special effects. No one is going to find them here. What the viewer will get is a feeling of well being and inner peace. The director seems to be teaching us a lesson in how anyone can achieve nirvana through self examination, meditation and doing good no matter to whom. Also, how cruelty, be it against a harmless animal, or a human being, will haunt those who transgress throughout life.

The acting blends in with the serene beauty of the temple in the middle of the lake, as we watch one season following another, as seen by the amazing cinematography by Dong-hyeon Baek.