[K-Movie Night] April Snow

by Dramaddictally

Welcome to K-Movie Night — a once-a-month feature where we microwave some popcorn, put on a face mask, and get cozy with a Korean movie from yesteryear. With so many films finally streaming (with subs!), now is the time to get caught up on all those movies we missed featuring our favorite drama actors.

Each month, we’ll pick a flick, write a review, and meet you back here to discuss whether or not it’s worth a watch. Super simple. All you have to do is kick up your feet and join us in the comments!

 
MOVIE REVIEW

Continuing our run of early 2000’s K-movies, April Snow (2005) caught my attention for its art-house/low-budget look, its barren countryside setting, and its supremely tragic setup (no matter how much I wish life was all comedy and romance). Also, I feel like you can’t go wrong with Sohn Ye-jin — who’s only 23 in this film, but already showcasing mega talent.

An international box office success upon release, the movie was nominated at multiple film fests, landing Sohn Ye-jin a best actress award. Co-written and directed by Heo Jin-ho (who directed the 2021 drama Human Disqualification), the project boasts a plethora of screenwriters, including Lee Suk-yun — the pen behind the drama A Piece of Your Mind and the movie Tune in for Love (both of which I’d recommend).

Cold, barren, tragic, slow — it’s a bit self-punishing, but I have to say it moved me. That is, once I got through the film’s first half. The setup is so deliberate and glacial that the real stakes aren’t even set until mid-way through the movie. But once they’re in motion, your mind starts racing to figure out any way this can end well.

Our first encounter with the leads is in a small-town hospital. IN-SOO (Bae Yong-joon) is there to see his wife who’s been in a car accident and is now in a coma. SEO-YOUNG (Sohn Ye-jin) is there to see her husband, who’s in the same condition.

Right away, it’s bleak. Not just the circumstances, but the surroundings. The hospital looks like it’s decades in need of repairs and updates. The snowy drive from Seoul to Samcheok is desolate and dull. And everything is brown. Literally, from the barren landscape of tree bark and earth, to the interior walls, to the cast’s clothing. Any setting this drab can only mean bad news.

It doesn’t take long for us to understand what’s happened, even with extra-sparse dialogue. The second time the leads meet, it’s at a police station. They’re going through the belongings of their respective spouses — who were in the car together when the accident occurred. And if we had any questions about what that means, there’s a condom amongst the collected objects.

At first, In-soo and Seo-young go their separate ways to deal with their newfound knowledge on their own. In-soo goes through his wife’s texts, which leave little room for wondering. And then he finds a video of the adulterers nuzzling up in bed. It’s a really painful scene, watching a man watch the person he loves with someone else — and also not be able to put the camera down fully and stop himself from knowing. In-soo then goes to the bathroom and we hear him vomit, which seems like the only plausible reaction.

But try as they might to avoid each other, In-soo and Seo-young are staying in the same rinky-dink hotel and their spouses are in the same ICU. They keep running into each other. In one instance, In-soo finds Seo-young standing over his wife’s bed, trying to get a look at the woman her husband cheated on her with. Even though she retreats quickly, it’s not like she can go far. And all they have is time on their hands as they wait for their spouses to wake up, in this town that they don’t live in.

After crossing paths without speaking for some time, the two are convinced to attend the funeral of the person their spouses’ car crash killed. It’s awful and they’re kicked out immediately. On the way back, Seo-young sobs and sobs and this is the turning point. They begin to open up, little by little, and deal with their devastation by confiding in each other. And it makes total sense. Who better to understand their pain than the only other person that’s going through the exact same thing?

We see them start to hang out regularly, recounting stories about their spouses — mourning, in a way, in front of each other. One night, as they talk and drink, Seo-young says they should have an affair to teach their spouses a lesson. She’s joking, but we know exactly what’s to come.

After some time they return to Seoul and continue to meet up there, just the two of them, in what could be construed as dates. Finally, they go to a hotel, holding hands, and the scene that follows is long and drawn out as they undress and slowly move close, barely touching at first. They clearly want to be together, but the sense of hesitation, pain, and perhaps guilt is palpable. Despite that, they go forward.

And now the movie has it’s real conflict. After this scene, it’s hard not to be hit with an avalanche of questions about how this will possibly resolve. Will their partners wake up? And what will they decide if they do? Is this a temporary connection for comfort? Or the start of a new relationship? Worse, will both people see it the same way when the time comes to make that decision?

So long as their spouses stay asleep, their affair can continue (hidden, of course), and they can remain in the little bubble of denial and contentment they’ve created. But we know it’s a time bomb. And when the events start playing out, it’s clear what kind of tragedy this story has the capacity to be. It’s not one where characters simply fall into sad circumstances, but one where they may be forced to make their own tragic choices.

Both actors do a good job of carrying this movie and conveying conflicted feelings, but Son Ye-jin looks particularly vulnerable here. She’s nailed the in-between states, where emotions are muddy, and she can be pained and crying, but also laughing to cover it up.

The first half is brutally slow, but by the end it’s clear why the story needed that much leadup. These two aren’t jumping into bed together out of spite or vengeance. They’re not uncaring partners. And they’re not bad people (necessarily). Their pain and loneliness need time to build before we can fully understand how they end up where they do.

Still, it’s a bit of a slog and it certainly won’t be for everyone. The payoff is in the construction of the story, rather than its content. If you’re not one for tragedy, sad endings, or sitting through two hours of monochrome settings, you might want to pass on this. But if you’re into spikes of heartbreak, conflicted characters, and sorting out what feels like a prisoner’s dilemma, you might — with a little patience — feel some real emotion here.

Join us in May for the next K-Movie Night and let’s make a party of it! We’ll be watching Ditto (2022) and posting the review during the last week of the month.

Want to participate in the comments when it posts? You’ve got 3 weeks to watch! Rather wait for the review before you decide to stream it? We’ve got you covered.

 
RELATED POSTS

• [K-Movie Night] Hellcats
• [K-Movie Night] Il Mare
• [K-Movie Night] Juror 8
• [K-Movie Night] New Year Blues
• [K-Movie Night] Moonlit Winter
• [K-Movie Night] Microhabitat
• [K-Movie Night] Josée
• [K-Movie Night] Twenty
• [K-Movie Night] Very Ordinary Couple
• [K-Movie Night] Midnight Runners
• [K-Movie Night] More Than Family