I believe this round of applause is even more enthusiastic and heartfelt than the previous ones, indicating that we have understood this film. However, what is important is not just that we watched a film, but that within this film, it not only allows us to see a story and a couple in love, but it also goes beyond merely showcasing a specific social group, such as individuals with cerebral palsy, to provoke our awareness and attention. It is not simply about evoking sympathy for the vulnerable or understanding marginalized individuals. I believe it is more than that; in a certain sense, it effectively, accurately, and delicately conveys a perhaps more significant proposition for us today: how we can see others, how we can see the other, which I must reiterate in English as "the other," not the self, but absolute otherness, absolute difference.
In the story, the otherness embodied by these two characters is irreconcilable. It is difficult to say that after watching this film, if we reflect on our feelings during the viewing, we can experience that we are deeply attracted to them, we empathize with them, but it is hard for us to transform that into ourselves; it is hard for us to become them because they carry an irreconcilable, incommensurable otherness that cannot be encompassed by my self, my sympathy, or my compassion as a reflection of myself. I think this is the most profound expression of the film. Through this film, we see the true other, the real other. And through them, it is not us gazing at them, because our projected gaze, in a certain sense, ultimately melts the object of our gaze and becomes a projection of ourselves.
To put it even more dramatically, in Lacanian psychology, the so-called gaze is actually about imagining oneself being looked at, oneself being gazed upon. The so-called love in the gaze is essentially a form of psychological narcissism, a process of "I ultimately devour him," a process of "I ultimately dissolve the difference." In this film, I don't know how everyone feels, but my feeling is that we are seen by them, we are seen by these seemingly insignificant people, we are forced to not turn our gaze away, not turn our bodies away, and we cannot avoid seeing these marginalized individuals, these weak people, who have been expelled from the social gaze, who have been exiled by social actions and groups. This is a very strong feeling I had when I rewatched this film.
As you all know, this is Lee Chang-dong's third film. Looking back, I find it a bit amusing that it seems I and the students and teachers of this grand hall have collectively agreed to choose these masters who have extremely low output and long creative cycles, from director Zhang Yimou to Lee Chang-dong. In total, Lee Chang-dong's body of work is shorter, and his creative cycle is longer; this is only his third film. This film was also nominated for the main competition at the Venice International Film Festival, where it won the Best New Actor award for the actress who played the princess and Lee Chang-dong won the Special Director's Award. This undoubtedly signifies that this is the work that has brought Lee Chang-dong into the pantheon of cinema, officially canonizing him.
I won't respond to some other discussions. Some discussions suggest that portraying, for example, a cerebral palsy patient or a specific group of people and requiring actors to have special physical control makes it easier for the film to win awards or stand out. I don't want to engage in that discussion. However, we must mention that everyone knows that Moon So-ri underwent six months of training for this role, including extensive physical training and spending a lot of time with individuals with cerebral palsy. Ultimately, when she participated in the film's shooting, without any makeup or technical aids, she completely controlled her own body and authentically recreated the typical physical form of a person with severe cerebral palsy.
Of course, we find it most challenging that while portraying such an extremely distorted and spastic body, she must also show us that she is still a person who undoubtedly has emotions, thoughts, desires, a wish to love, and a yearning to be heard. She accomplished this impossible task with such precision because she could not perform in the normal way we naturally use our bodies, expressions, and gazes. She had to first complete the recreation of the body language of a person with severe cerebral palsy before fulfilling the task of acting.
So, she only received the Best New Actor award, and I even feel a bit unfair for her; perhaps she deserves a higher recognition and evaluation. But I still want to say that the acting achievements of Moon So-ri and the performance of Lee Jeong-kyu (the male lead) in this film, showcasing his versatility as an actor, are undoubtedly remarkable.
If you have recently seen one of my favorite films of his in recent years, "The Day After," and if you have seen him play the role of a refined pre-modern Korean scholar, or if you have seen him portray a strong, action-oriented heroic male lead, then you may more strongly recognize the depth of this actor's skills and performance.
Undoubtedly, the male and female leads in this love story possess the ability to shape their characters, and they grasp their roles with extreme accuracy because these are two characters that carry irreducible otherness—one is a person with severe cerebral palsy, and the other is him. By accurately grasping this character, we cannot simply say he is a marginalized person, we cannot simply say he is a small character, we cannot simply say he is part of a vulnerable group because this character also carries certain social cognitive impairments or social personality disorders.
Just as Moon So-ri successfully recreated the image of a cerebral palsy patient that is difficult for us to face without disgust or rejection, Lee Jeong-kyu also shaped this awkward, embarrassing, and at times repulsive character, who is described as extremely immature and socially deficient.
These two characters together form the male and female leads of this love story, allowing us to be moved like we are watching a love story, ultimately touched, with tears, smiles, and a hint of warmth. I say that in this sense, merely in the narrative realism sense, the film has already achieved a high level of accomplishment.
This is the first point I wanted to share with you, or rather, it is something that everyone has already realized after watching. At the same time, after watching this film, people seem to easily extend one point, which is Lee Chang-dong's insistence on social critique. Lee Chang-dong seems to stand in solidarity with the marginalized, not from a position of overlooking or observing, but from a place of deep identification, allowing us to gain their perspective and reflect on ourselves, our mainstream society, our mainstream groups, our ordinary lives. It is easy to draw such an affirmation or summary.
However, I feel that this kind of understanding is still insufficient, still inadequate, because what is important is not merely a so-called social critique. I believe that what is very successful in the film, and which continues from "Green Fish" to "Peppermint Candy" to this film, is a very important characteristic: we repeatedly form a recognition during the viewing process, and then in the following plot, this recognition is shattered, and then in the next plot, the original recognition resurfaces.
A very simple example: when we see the first encounter between the male and female leads, we see the abandonment by the sister-in-law, right? We immediately conclude that it is abandonment, but then we find it is not abandonment, right? There is care, there is attention, there is some kind of familial bond. But then we discover that it is uglier than abandonment because it is a plunder, an invasion, a possession. I don't know how many times I have watched it, but when I saw the brother carrying him down the stairs and into the car, I momentarily had an illusion that this brother was still caring for his brother, still very familial. Then I realized it was just to cope with the social worker's inspection because they occupied the new welfare space that should have belonged to the princess, and then it became even uglier. However, at their most despicable moment, they also reveal a certain beauty, right? Just when they stumble upon the scene of the two making love, their shock and anger are where their familial bond lies.
Similarly, the male lead's brothers, the brother and sister-in-law, and the mother also continuously make us feel their indifference, their ruthlessness, their familial ties, their struggles, and efforts, in a constant—though I don't like to use this term, but I will reluctantly use it—reversal, right? In the constant reversal of our perception and understanding of these characters' behavioral logic, they are presented as ordinary people, they are presented as common people, they are presented as us.
So I say, rather than being a social critique, it is a very powerful, silent reflection. It forces us to reflect on ourselves, rather than standing from some angle to criticize society because when we say we criticize society, it seems we are outside of society. The power of this reflection lies in that each of us must face ourselves. How will you do so? Just like the thread we mentioned earlier, the brother's thread, when we see their shock, their anger, when we see the sister-in-law who is already pregnant, still desperately saying, "Help me, save my sister," we feel that little touch, and then there is the bargaining in the police station, ugly yet long-lasting, shamelessly selfish yet reasonable.
I believe that in this sense, this is precisely Lee Chang-dong's unique height as an artist and director. At least in my view, there has not been another director in the world cinema who has reached the height and depth of Lee Chang-dong in terms of accurately grasping reality, accurately using details, and accurately unfolding the meaning of the story. So I say this is another aspect of the film that deeply moves me.
At the same time, everyone has noticed the narrative rhythm and tension in Lee Chang-dong's films, and this tension absolutely does not make us perceive it as a structural or plot-driven narrative, but rather as the natural flow of daily life, as the inevitable logic of the characters. However, we all noticed that he set up a narrative metronome, which is the tapestry on the wall that appears in the opening credits of the film, that cheap tapestry that the brother and sister-in-law did not even attempt to take with them when they moved. But at the beginning, we probably would not have noticed the shadows moving on that tapestry. That cheap tapestry, the moving shadows—I wonder if anyone has noticed the third element, which is the clothes that seem to be casually piled up above the tapestry.
Because I have watched it many times, I would particularly avant-garde notice that they are apricot, cool blue, and bright yellow, forming a very vivid, delicate, and lively color tone. As we all notice, as the plot develops, we find that to a large extent, the princess has never received care and nurturing; she is actually managing her own life. So those clothes placed there, and all her clothing in the film express her inner longing for beauty, for color, or for some feminine desire. From the very beginning, she has already placed all the elements of the plot and psychology in this tapestry. Then, the repeated appearances of the tapestry—I have always paid too much attention to the visuals and overlooked the auditory aspects. The close-up shots of the tapestry are always accompanied by the meaningless social news on the radio, or some incessant statements that lack special informational value. Together, they represent the princess's entire connection to the outside world in this almost abandoned, imprisoned space. Her inner and outer worlds are already presented in this metronome.
Then we say, when she finally has a listener, she says, "I am scared, I am scared." Then there is the magic, the magic of the two in the phone conversation, and the final memorable scene—he goes to saw off all the branches outside the window. If we still have any doubts about their feelings, because I have seen an understanding that says the feelings of these two people remain at the level of instinct and physical attraction, I cannot agree with that. If you still believe they have not reached the spiritual, inner, and emotional heights of love, then the final segment will deny that assertion.
He uses this extreme, violent escape method to once again express to her, to hear her voice again, and more importantly, to eliminate the projection of the devilish shadow that threatens and intimidates her. By this point, the story truly elevates to an undeniable expression of love, or to such a height of love.
And all of this has already been presented to us in the first frame, in the opening credits: the tapestry projection, the monotonous sound of the wind blowing, and the colorful clothes below, along with the monotonous broadcast. Everything is already lurking in the opening segment, and then continuously reappearing, becoming the rhythm of the narrative, becoming a progression of the emotions between the two. It goes without saying that this is first described in words: "I dreamt, I dreamt that the characters in the tapestry walked down." Then the fourth dream appears.
The fourth dream is very interesting; I really like how it handles the fantasy segments. Lee Chang-dong's rigor, coldness, and lack of pretentiousness also appear in his fantasy segments. Because all the fantasy segments are centered around the princess, in that fantasy, she becomes a healthy woman, a complete woman. Well, I quietly say that I still suspect that the design of so many fantasy segments is Lee Chang-dong's way of telling the audience that Moon So-ri is not a mentally disabled person; she is a healthy, beautiful girl. (I am joking.)
I say that when I watch it again and again, what moves me about the fantasy segments is that in the fantasy segments, the princess becomes a "healthy, complete woman." However, many of her actions are still inappropriate because she has no way of knowing what is appropriate for a healthy woman. Her inappropriateness and the male lead's inappropriateness form an interesting reference, a mistaken correspondence, right? For example, we see in reality, she inappropriately uses her wheelchair to bump into the male lead who is answering the phone; in her imagination, she also inappropriately uses her body to bump into him; then when she imagines the two embracing and kissing, their bodies are so stiff, and their movements are so awkward, completely lacking the intimacy and physical expression that should occur when a loving couple finally embraces.
I say this delicate and more interesting aspect is when the characters from the oasis in the fantasy walk into her little room, the correct approach would be to have an African woman appear, or a small elephant, because the oasis presented is a scene from the African savannah. Instead, what appears is an athletic woman, which is definitely not Lee Chang-dong's mistake but rather his craftsmanship because within the range of his imagination, he is merely trying to get as close as possible to the female figure that only appears as a vague silhouette.
Well, I don't need to say more; Lee Chang-dong's coldness in handling reality, all the compassion is hidden beneath a cold, delicate sketch. And when he presents the fantasy segments, he is equally calm, unexaggerated, unpretentious, and unmelodramatic in structuring these fantasy segments. But I think, more powerful than the actual fantasy segments, every time I watch, I have a genuine sense of admiration, is when we notice the white dove circling in the room during the first encounter between the two. The white dove circling in the room. When I first saw it, I was really a bit surprised, thinking, "What is this person trying to do?" Because Lee Chang-dong never films these special effects, magical, miraculous, or supernatural things. The reason I say I think this is a supernatural thing is that with today's technology, we can clearly and accurately follow a dove. And everyone notices that the very real dove being followed by the long shot in space has a blurred focus, right? So its meaning is unclear.
However, when we first see this scene, we cannot capture what it is; in the chaos of the move, in the spastic, distorted body language of the cerebral palsy patient, and in front of this seemingly very out-of-place visitor, why does this dove appear? Until the princess throws away the mirror, and the broken mirror casts light spots on the ceiling, and the light spots on the ceiling turn into fluttering butterflies, we realize this is her subjective viewpoint, this is her inner world, this is her soaring imagination in abandonment, loneliness, and imprisonment.
Initially, when I watched this film, I looked up some medical knowledge about cerebral palsy, and I found that in imprecise and non-rigorous medical entries, they often say that individuals with cerebral palsy have intellectual disabilities. However, in this story, we see a certain inner state of theirs. And we might first question ourselves when we see a person with such body language, such an image, such an expression; we should tell ourselves: you do not know, you do not know what their intellectual state is like, you do not know what their inner world is like, you do not know what they dream and long for.
There is no need to repeat what we have already discussed; to some extent, this film's philosophical aspect is about me and him, about us and them, about our relationship with those individuals whose lives we cannot imagine or relate to at all. Of course, I do not need to say the other aspects; everyone has felt it. In the film, he consciously sets up some contrasts, some reverse comparisons, some surprising or rhetorical questions, just like we mentioned earlier, the white dove wandering in the room, then the fluttering butterflies, and the small elephant and dancing Indian women appearing in the room, and the child scattering flower petals—all these things create a contrast with the cerebral palsy patient and this ex-convict, who clearly has social interaction and cognitive impairments, a repulsive individual rejected by his family.
At the same time, he sets up the dialogue between the princess and the general—"Your Highness" and "General, what do you do?" The brilliance and vividness of this dialogue. To answer this question, the male lead lies, saying, "I am a worker at the auto repair shop." He identifies himself as a skilled professional, which in a sense also points to having a relatively stable job and income, leading to his feedback: "I really envy those who have jobs."
Well, we say that these contrasts, these correspondences, become a very powerful rhetoric in the film, while also being a rare exception in Lee Chang-dong's filmography. In a certain sense, we can say, for example, in the film "Poetry," he turns this kind of reference, this kind of heretical encounter, this kind of betrayal of our social knowledge, common sense, and social cognition into the theme of the entire film. It can be said that he allows people to continue, but I say that using such extreme, seemingly ironic elements ultimately is not satire, not a complete betrayal, but a form of arrival. Ultimately, they become the male and female leads of the love story; they become the princess and the general; they become the classic male and female leads in the narrative, the male and female leads of the love story that moves us and makes us yearn.
Well, I won't elaborate further. Haha, the worst review I read on Douban said, "Oh, even a cerebral palsy patient can win love; why can't I?" (Laughter) This is the worst I have read, but fortunately, many comments or responses refuted it. What is important is not the reaction itself, but that this reaction is directed at this film; he really did not see this film because if he had watched this film and still had such a large ego, still had such a large self trying to devour the unassimilable elements in this film, that is the truly sad thing.
Well, we say that throughout this film, in addition to using such a powerful, rhythmically rich interpretation of the love story, he also has another layer of reversal. Just now we talked about the constant reversal of our perceptions and understandings of the so-called mainstream society surrounding us. At the same time, there is something that everyone must have grasped after watching, but I still want to emphasize, which is the film's lack of pretentiousness and melodrama, also reflected in the fact that he never beautifies the two protagonists; he does not beautify them in any way.
The male lead repeatedly moves us, repeatedly makes us unable to bear it. So I find it very amusing that I see many reviews saying the male lead is kind and the female lead is gentle; this conclusion is absolutely valid. After watching this film, this conclusion is absolutely valid. However, that is absolutely not a role that runs through the entire film as a kind male protagonist, nor is it a female protagonist presented externally as gentle.
Throughout the film, he constantly sets up these contrasts. For example, we see his position within the family. When the younger brother first meets him, he almost says the earliest words: "I beg you, do not come and disturb my life, I beg you." Then we see the sister-in-law's statement: "If it weren't for you, our lives would be much better; others are too embarrassed to say it, so I will tell you." More importantly, the camera pans over, and when the sister-in-law makes such a disdainful, expelling, and contemptuous judgment, the mother is watching television nonchalantly. The mother has no response to her son.
Of course, he continuously accumulates such a confidential display, including that we know the brother and sister-in-law occupy the princess's welfare housing. More importantly, we know that the male lead takes his brother to serve his sentence, and everyone so naturally assumes, "If you have a criminal record and no job, if you don't go to prison, who will?" And throughout the film, another very powerful detail or logic of realism is that all the mainstream groups' shamelessness, baseness, and indifference towards the two characters are reasonable and valid.
For example, the police's malicious remark: "Are you sick? I am sure you are sick; otherwise, how could you have desires for such a person?" For example, the sister-in-law's disgust, the brother's punishment, and the brother's anger at him bringing the princess to their mother's birthday party because he seems to desecrate such a family gathering and harmonious reunion, while more importantly, he almost seems to place the evidence in front of the criminal, the psychological multi-layering. At the same time, throughout the film, there is always a logical thread of his own extending. All these things are not unreasonable; they are all reasonable. It is precisely the reasonable yet unreasonable behaviors that the male and female protagonists ultimately reference that constitute the uniqueness, the strength of this film, and the characteristic of this film that carries not just judgment but more importantly, reflection.
Because we say, if we were at that scene, we would not have any different identification from the characters in the plot, and we would so detest, so reject, and so strongly want to judge the male lead. At the same time, in what sense can we differ from the characters in the story and not regard a character like the princess as something inhuman or non-existent? In what sense can we not ignore her?
Similarly, we may ask ourselves, not just about cerebral palsy patients, but about so many disabled individuals, these anomalies, or about the elderly around us who have aged too much, or those with dementia. In what sense can we recognize that they are still the same as us?
So I say all these things are unique to Lee Chang-dong; they are the strength of Lee Chang-dong's films.
I wonder if you had similar associations when watching this film. This time when I watched this film, a strong association I had was with "In the Dust." A strong association with "In the Dust." Because they are both surplus individuals from two families, both exiled from their families, one a disabled woman and the other a marginalized man. So what is the biggest difference? The biggest difference is that from the very beginning, the male and female leads in "Oasis" have no possibility of being placed or self-placed in any way. I don't know if everyone gave me a little silence, indicating that I did not express myself clearly.
Let's first talk about "In the Dust." In "In the Dust," this pair of men and women enjoyed a happy life; they built their own house, cultivated their own land, and shared a period of time together. However, I am not saying in the sense of "Oasis" that this pair of men and women have no possibility of coming together or settling down; rather, in the entire setting, this relationship is socially unacceptable from the first minute.
Because the male lead is a manslaughterer, and he has a connection to the female lead through the murder of her father. At the same time, the female lead is a cerebral palsy patient; no one would believe or accept that any capable man would accept her. If you accept her, you are either a pervert or dirty and malicious. So, I have already shared the entire story with you, so I won't repeat it more. For me, the most enchanting aspect of "In the Dust" is not its realism; the most enchanting aspect is that it is a dream. A warm dream of marginalized individuals meeting, a dream of a primitive people, a traditional farming dream, in a modern society that has completely destroyed the structure of traditional rural life, a dream of life cycles and labor production cycles that continue endlessly in nature. Although the story has a tragic ending on a plot level, it is filled with warmth, a dream of placing marginalized individuals, of placing oneself, of placing the individual.
In contrast, the film "Oasis" is much crueler. It tells us through its plot and the values and ethics it expresses that far too many similar individuals are forever unplaceable. This society does not provide them with any possibility of self-placement. Then, when we recall some details in the film, it becomes particularly painful, right?
For example, the couple next door comes here to commit a crime because for them, this is almost an empty house. And the eyes watching from the other side of the door do not constitute any disturbance for them. The quietly closed door then takes on richer meaning.
Then there is the lipstick, that lipstick, and "I want to ask you something." Then when the poison arrives, his question is, "Why did you give me flowers?" The spoken and unspoken behind that is a painful feeling because that is the deepest trampling, deprivation, and oppression. Of course, this film also has a very warm ending in its long and intense narrative. I personally believe it has a relatively warm ending.
Because on one hand, it confirms the love story; it still takes on a slightly crazy, reckless, immature, and even anti-social posture to cut off all the branches outside the window. More importantly, the final tranquility. In that tranquility, we see how the princess is cleaning her room on the ground. We hear her voice in the space, and a literary response. She says, "When one day I go out, I want to eat tofu." We then return to the opening scene where she is wearing a thin coat in winter and goes to the store to hug a piece of tofu and starts devouring it. We initially thought it was hunger; we had not yet understood that it was a small desire in the prison life.
And this time, she once again enters a state where such a small desire is deprived. But at this moment, we hear the dialogue, we hear the anxiety, we hear the genuine connection between them, even though physically and socially, they are completely isolated. At the same time, the director creates the final special effect; we see the scattered light spots drifting in the adjacent room. This time it is no longer the white dove, no longer the butterflies, but the omnipresent "silly bean." She once again directly becomes a presentation of the princess's inner landscape. We know she is experiencing warmth; she is experiencing the joy of being heard and listening.
So I say, in the end, it truly becomes a charming love story. And this charming love story, all love stories actually play such a role, about how we place individuals, how each of our independent selves reaches out, how we are no longer lonely, how we are no longer split in two, searching for this lifelong pain. And in this film, this love story carries rich meanings. At the same time, the so-called irreducible otherness, the unreachable other, means two levels of significance for me. One level of significance is that for me, this is the true meaning and value of the film. The true meaning and value of the film is to let us see the other, forget the self, rather than being filled with narcissistic reflections, searching for our own image on the screen. Instead, it is about seeing the other and forgetting the self.
From another perspective, a theory proposed by the French theorist and philosopher Emmanuel Levinas is about the face of the other. The face of the other carries the irreducible uniqueness that often makes us truly perceive that we are insignificant, that I am just me, that I cannot cover him, that I am not him, and that my meaning exists in his irreplaceability, his uniqueness. The image of the other's irreducible difference allows us to gain an ethical connection with others; this is social ethics. Thus, we attempt to obtain a social shadow that can overcome the barrenness and loneliness of the self.
The reason I want to say this in conclusion is that today's online existence, today's digital technology, today's big data, today's precise targeting, and information cocoons are isolating us in the name of so-called homebound living, making us self-isolate, making us self-projected, so that the gaze we seek is merely our own reflection, our own replica, our own substitute, rather than the other, causing us to forget that the shadow of our lives comes from social connections, not from our own barrenness and narrowness.
So I say, for me, the greatest significance of this film lies in our genuine experience of seeing others and forgetting ourselves. Because if I cannot forget myself, the entire viewing process will always leave us with discomfort and displeasure. And when we express our viewing pleasure with heartfelt applause at the end, I think we have collectively experienced a moment of temporarily forgetting our excessively large selves.
Thank you all.
Originally, I also prepared a hand card with two professional terms, one called "hypertonic desire" and the other called "hyperreflexivity," which are medical terms used to describe the physical actions of cerebral palsy patients. In the end, I found I didn't need to use these professional terms because we have all intuitively grasped them.