The movie begins with a sequence in which an elderly architect collapses. His assistant (Parker Posey) accompanies him around a famed Columbus-based home, and she spends the majority of the scene trying to track him down in the immense estate. Shot by shot, it's quite literally a perfect sequence. We cut to a couple parallel stories, one following an aspiring librarian named Casey (Haley Lu Richardson) and the architect's son, Jin (John Cho) who has just flown in from Seoul to be with his sick parent. The opening of the film cuts back and forth between these two, ever so slowly, with no clear connection. Jin spends much of his time wandering a fancy yet isolate hotel, while Casey cooks dinner with her mom and dodges the advances of her esteemed and charming coworker (Rory Culkin).
The film is not as much about the circumstances of their meeting (a beautiful scene in which they walk down a long iron fence and then finally meet at the gate's opening) but about the conversations they share, largely based around Casey's love of the city's architecture. She recognizes Jin's father and had planned on seeing him in a now-cancelled lecture. To her surprise, Jin finds no interest in the appeal of buildings, so he has her describe some of her favorites. Along the way, they discuss their dreams, their setbacks, and perhaps identify the damaged parts of themselves that they wouldn't otherwise be able to see. The film's most beautiful scene comes when Casey is forced to tell Jin why she loves a particular building, and not for the reasons she might have learned on a guided tour. We watch her smile and tell Jin with such a warmth about this converted bank, and yet we hear nothing she says through the glass windows. We don't hear her insights, but that doesn't mean we don't understand every single word she is saying. Watch her light up.
2017 has been an odd year for movies so far. Nothing special overall, nothing overreaching or important. Out of all of them, perhaps COLUMBUS is the quietest movie I have seen. It moves at a glacial pace while we slowly learn about these two people, each in their own way lost in a city that has completely different meanings to the other. It's largely due to the impressive debut of a director named Kogonada, a man who understands how to frame a shot, how to direct young people, how to interpret a script, and how to make visual poetry. For a movie set in a random midwest city, believe me when I say that watching this film I felt as though I were in Wonderland. Each new structure and glass and straight line created a scene so absolutely lovely that it's absolutely amazing to think that such a place exists in the heartland of the United States.
You would be hard pressed to find a movie that more accurately depicts kindred spirits. We grow to like Casey and Jin ever so slowly that by the end it's amazing that such an emotional climax had been built up at all. The same goes for a script so charming in its simplicity that it's refreshing to just sit back and watch it unfold. Listen to how Jin talks about his Korean background, and then listen to Casey slink around discussing her mother's history of addiction. These aren't high points in drama. They're simply another topic that is brought up. Nothing is spelled out for us. That's life, I suppose.
No comments:
Post a Comment