Possible Love was originally conceived as one of the feature remakes of Krzysztof Kieslowski's Dekalog series. I am happy to report that the acclaimed Korean director Lee Chang-dong opted not to just redo the Ten Commandments-inspired classic, but wrote (with co-writer Oh Jung-mi) and directed something far richer and more nuanced than its mere original concept.
Talking about novelistic films, with the running time close to three hours, it might not be narratively as explosive as Burning, which Lee directed eight years ago, but Possible Love is just as layered, and more refined and complex, when delving into class divide and human conditions. It's surely one of the finest films of the year and yet another masterpiece by the Korean master.
Possible Love starts with a quote, "Thou Shalt Not Covet," just like the 10th Episode of Dekalog. But as it plays out, one can immediately recognize that the film is definitely all Lee Chang-dong through and through.
We are at the funeral of a worker who was laid off from a giant manufacturing firm, due to the company restructuring two years before. It turns out that he committed suicide. One of his colleagues, who was also the victim of downsizing along with hundreds of others, and now suffering from depression, is Ho-seok (Sul Kyung-gu of Lee's Peppermint Candy).
The memorial service is being videotaped by Ye-ji (Cho Yeo-jeoung, Parasite). There is a bit of scuffle, as Ho-seok deems taping of a somber occasion and grieving families more than a little abrasive. But he is later assured by his wife Mi-ok (Jeon Do-yeon, Secret Sunshine), that Ye-ji is a documentarian making a film about the state of the labor movement.
Ho-seok's blank stares and never-smiling face tells a story of his tragic case. He is a broken man both physically and mentally, after the violent government crackdown of the sit-in striking workers at the manufacturing plant, where he worked as a welder. He was physically assaulted and was hospitalized from his injuries. In the end, the strike failed and the company ended up laying off many of its workforce.
As Mi-ok explains matter of factly to Ye-ji, there are the 'dead-ers' and the 'live-ers', as the outcome of the company restructuring -- the ones who were fired from their jobs are like zombies, defeated and traumatized, while those who were spared and retained their jobs, get to keep on living. Well-meaning Ye-ji is determined to make a documentary that represents the lives of working people, and Ho-seok would be her main star. She just needs to convince him to be in front of the camera, and a personable Mi-ok could be her ticket.
As the two women become friendly, they talk about their lives and their husbands. We get to know how the couples got together. Through their conversations, Mi-ok finds Ye-ji's tall and handsome husband Sang-woo (Zo In-sung) is from an incredibly wealthy family and Ye-ji's endeavors and, indeed, everything she does in life is provided by him. Sang-woo is the hedge fund manager type, who handles big transactions while on the phone in English, dealing in different time zones. It is hard to read his inner thoughts, but his stealthy exterior, good posture, and mannerisms are impaccable.
One of the funnier bits, and there are many, takes place in a restaurant with four of them together. During dinner, Mi-ok tells Sang-woo that he reminds her of Steve Jobs, to everyone’s amusement. It's not the physical similarities but the confidence he exudes, she explains.
After dinner, on the way home in their Porche, while talking about Ye-ji's filmmaking endeavor, Sang-woo says he admires her 'method acting' as she ingratiates herself into the lives of the working class. Hs observation is sincere, rather than condescending, and Ye-jin takes it as a compliment. She responds that she wants to 'love' these people.
There are several instances where Mi-ok notices expensive clothes and items Ye-ji wears. She tells Ye-ji to refrain from wearing them while showing up to do interviews with the workers and their families. It's not because she is envious, but she is embarrassed for her and knows it is not a good look for someone making a documentary about the proletariat. Ye-ji gets the message.
Lee's dense and nuanced script brings out all four characters and makes them three dimensional. Every small interaction, glance and gesture highlights the differences in the two couple's relationships and underlying tension. All four actors are superb. But it's Jeon Do-yeon who shines the brightest in the role of Mi-ok, who supports her broken husband unconditionally, while keeping him from losing his dignity. This means strictly enforcing no drinking in public and making scenes as he used to. Her Mi-ok is trying to hold the family together in the harsh world for her husband and their son, while always putting up a sunny disposition. She is so good at imbuing all this.
Ye-ji invites Mi-ok's family to Sang-woo's summer mansion by the sea, endowed with a private beach and a caretaker, to spend their summer vacation together. Ye-ji is also hoping that she finally gets an on-camera interview with Ho-seok while there, too. To everyone's surprise, Ho-seok agrees to go, because perhaps it’s time for him to let go of his trauma.
During their stay at the gigantic, opulent mansion, run by a silent, smiling man who turns out to be Sang-woo’s childhood playmate (a former caretaker’s kid), Mi-ok mentions the mansion is like from the novels that she never read.
Tension between two couples boils over as Ho-seok has an emotional breakdown and Mi-ok finds out that Ye-ji’s been monitoring their every movement in the mansion.
The title of the film might suggest that love is possible between different economic classes. Or, it might mean love and understanding for the proletariat are possible. Combined with "Thou Shalt Not Covet," in the context of exploitation of the labor in the capitalist society and haves and have nots, Lee leaves us with a lot to ponder.
