Everything about this film is perfect ... except that it doesn’t lend itself to slick and easy summation. It’s beautifully shot, powerfully acted, perfectly directed, and the soundtrack, while used very sparingly, when called upon to augment the emotion of a scene, is masterfully executed.

OK. That’s some hyperbolic praise. This film blew me away. The funny this is, though, I’m not sure I really got it, or got all of it. In a nutshell the film is about a thirty years young Korean man in search of his biological mother. With extras.

Having said that, and saying that this film touches on many of the related topics of child abandonment, identity, adoption, loss, being young pregnant and alone (not to mention some very pointed exposition on Korean nurseries and clinics), in very powerful ways, it’s not a message film nor an after-school special level catharsis. It’s way weirder, and more literary, and much more poetic. The film is more like a painting than a story. The second act is pretty much a riff on Albert Camus’ Le Malentendu. And what a second act it is. It reaches Shakespearean levels of emotional intensity that are downright scary, getting jiggy with some twisted Oedipal sidewinder concoction. I wouldn’t call this an art-house film, though. It doesn’t come off as pretentious or intentionally vague even though parts of it might seem random and inexplicable.

So what is it I didn’t get? The film opens abruptly with a scene, likely to cause you to recoil in your seat, of young girl in somewhat primitive circumstances having an abortion. It’s not explicit, more fly-on-the-wall view, but it’s potent. And I think it’s an abortion. Could be she is going to deliver the baby and sell it. Given the stage of her pregnancy the latter is more likely, and the film seems to want to ask if there is a difference. [UPDATE: upon a second viewing, it’s clearly option #2, but I’m leaving my error because I’m in favor of letting this represent my initial reaction] Either way, she is in full traumatized mode. The confusing part is that this girl continues to appear in the film, pregnant, with ambiguous results, in a sort of parallel storyline. I’m not sure if she is to represent the boy’s mother or simply another scenario. I’m not sure at what level this film plays with time, reality, representation, and/or dreams. It’s more like a visual poem than a movie and really only my left brain wants to know. There’s nothing frustrating or loose-endy about it if you just let it be.

After that first scene, the film settles into more standard drama for a bit, with a little cultural essaying and identity politics, as it introduces us to the young man who will be our protagonist in search of his biological mother. He is with his girlfriend who wants to support him but also proposes to him and suggests it might be better if the two of them start their own family instead. The young man says he’s not ready for that and abandons her to go find his mother.

I should point out that this young man was raised in Australia and speaks English. His Korean is broken at best and this fact adds to the difficult dreamlike second act when he returns to Korea and ends up at a broken down hotel run by two widows, one of whom may or may not be his mother. I’m not even going to begin to try and dissect the second act. Suffice to say, the ambiguity of this film is precise and spectacular. As is the performance of Park Ji-a as the younger of the two women inn-keepers.

Park Ji-a, apparently going by simply ZIA now, is the only person associated with this film that I know anything about. She’s been in a few Kim ki-duk films, most notably the lead in BREATH (SOOM), and I’ve always liked her oddball beauty and thin but extremely muscular frame. It’s not surprising to see her here as she has always seemed at home in Kim’s dreamy structures. And I think a Kim ki-duk directorial comparison is somewhat apt here, but I can’t tell you a thing about the person who directed this movie, AN Sun-kyong (Ahn Seon-kyeong?).

Park Sang-hun (Park Sang-un?) is very good as the young Korean man, and I guess I do know about Park Ji-Yeon who plays his girlfriend. Her role is mildly minimal but she does a fine job. I’m not sure who plays the young pregnant girl (Kim Ye-ri?) but her performance is amazing. She practically steals the show and you will feel very strongly for her. Maybe you’re wondering how something like this ends. Well, endings are the most difficult part, aren’t they? To tell you the truth, things wrap up with a slightly melodramatic resolve but I didn’t really care one way or the other about it. The film had to stop at some point, and it did. Sort of like this review. Come to think of it, I thought the ending was fine. I can’t imagine that even if you hate the ending that it would spoil the preceding journey. This is a film that should be seen by anyone interested in good and/or powerful film making. That’s all I’m saying. It’s not about the story or the message. It’s about the colors and the brush strokes. And the meter. Just wow.

Sitenoise, I watched “A Blind River” based solely on your review, and found it to be overwrought, with too many underdeveloped plot threads, little or no character development, stiff performances by the actors (who are required by the director to engage in ridiculous amounts of hysterics), all topped off by a bombastic soundtrack. Two lessons I did learn from watching the film (1) if you’re an orphan, don’t go searching for your biological parents in Korea, and (2) don’t go booking a room at any creepy motels in Kangwon Province, especially if the landlady has burn scars all over her face.

Aw Shucks. Jon, you may not be alone in much of what you came away with, as this film isn’t getting much attention from anywhere. It seems to have played quite silently at the Zurich Festival only. I’m sad you didn’t like it because I’m still thoroughly fascinated by it and would love to have a discussion about it.

One thing I’ll say, is that plot threads don’t really seem to work as a way to follow this film. As I wrote, it’s more like a painting. Take the young girl. There’s what happens at the beginning, then in her little boarding house room, then the scene with the police guy, then the last scene of the film. There’s just no way there could be a plot thread connecting those scenes. Something else is going on. I agree she had no “character development” but, again, as I wrote, she has a powerful presence in the film but who is she and what does she represent? She doesn’t seem like a candidate for character development.

Without spoiling things, there is the obvious explanation for the second act. There has to be ... because a plot thread isn’t going to work there either in the big picture.

I truly believe this director went elsewhere for his structure without landing in any overbearing Lynch land. It’s like a collage but never frustratingly random.

Would you at least give it points for being photographed well? I thought the cinematography was beautiful.

I watched it a second time and am still blown away by it, still can’t completely figure it out but surprisingly I’m not bothered by that. It doesn’t seem obtuse to me at all. It seems very poetic, and absolutely controlled.

I guess this is like Myung-se Lee’s “M”, which you found indulgent and loose, and I thought it was a beautiful work of a master craftsman. This film reminded me of that one quite a bit.

Anyway, thanks for taking the time to see it and respond.

My gut told me this film was made by a woman and that turns out to be true:

Ahn Sun-kyoung (안선경) http://www.hancinema.net/korean_Ahn_Sun-kyoung.php

The DVD is available from yesasia (unless you live in Hong Kong)
http://www.yesasia.com/us/a-blind-river-dvd-korea-version/1021643349-0-0-0-en/info.html