Two twelve-year-old in Seoul, Na-Young and Hae Sung, share the beginnings of proto-love…the first experience each of that mysterious attractive force which can suddenly bring two people into a recognition of dazzling overwhelming oneness. Before the feelings can move beyond a tentative beginning, her family immigrates to America. She’s excited; as a budding writer, she sees a greater opportunity to win the Nobel Prize for literature. The memory of their time together fades in her, but smolders achingly in him.
Twelve years later, he searches the internet, and they reconnect for a few months via Skype. She breaks it off when she feels her growing emotional involvement is threatening her blooming career as a playwright (she now wants the Pulitzer). This sudden loss only strengthens the nostalgic attraction he feels for what might-have-been.
Life, as always, moves on, and he finds a girlfriend (off camera), while back in America, Na-Young (now Nora) meets a budding Jewish novelist at a writer’s retreat. Another twelve years pass and, having been dumped by said girlfriend, Hae Sung travels to New York for a few days, mightily confused, for one more attempt at re-connection. Hae and Nora share more conversation, including an evening with her now-husband. Finally, he flies away, leaving her crying in her husband’s embrace, also wondering what might-have-been.
I’m guessing it’s a near universal experience this film explores. Not in exact replication of details, but the feelings involved. “S/he still occupies my thoughts at times. Why is that?” …”I don’t understand this lasting connection, yet there it is.”…The agonizing fear/attraction of trying to answer those questions by seeking the other out. … The frustration of the ambiguous “resolution”.
Written and directed by a Korean-American, Celine Song, Past Lives explores what happens to our thoughts and emotions when a powerful early emotional connection flits in and out of one’s life over decades.