John Hendron

This film compartmentalizes the two Korean characters lives in thirds; as kids in Korea, as young adults separated in NY and Korea, and the at the end, as they finally come into contact again. What sets this movie apart is the deep emotions that are not spoken of by the characters; we are left to feel them ourselves. The first example is when the two part at the divide in the road going home for the last time before the Nora leaves for NY. What is said is profoundly short for the emotions we've already seen brewing between them. It's obvious that their chemistry has survived to adulthood in their conversations over Skype. I couldn't help but feel the deep tragedy unfolding as neither of them had the bravery to make the trip. They knew that their plans in life would have been upended; when we learn later that the boy has an average job and pay, it makes us think maybe it should have been him to make the leap to come to the US? The final chapter happens because he had doubts in his current relationship that's been put on hold. He just has to see, is there something there, after all? The movie's technique for dealing with the complexity of emotions was to do nothing at all but let them stare at one another. I know I couldn't stand all that silence. But they let it hang which makes the feelings we're projecting on them seem all the more profound, which is an excellent lesson in human psychology in the art of film. I begged myself on the way home from the theatre that this would be like one of those Ethan Hawk movies with a sequel some years later? The last few minutes of the film finally gives us the emotions from Nora which we've been craving for the whole film. It's hard to say why those feelings exist but for those of us who fell hard for someone in our youth this film is for you.