Past Lives Review: The Miracle of Love, Identity, and Choice

Immigrants have multiple personalities.

If you have ever moved abroad, I’m sure you agree. Human beings are shaped by the culture that surrounds them. As an immigrant, one naturally develops different personalities that accommodate and respond to the different cultures they’ve been exposed to.

I, for instance, was raised in one country by people from at least three different countries. Then, I moved abroad. Twice. And I fell in love with two other cultures whose languages I’m doing my very best to learn. I mean it when I say that I probably have around five diverse versions of me bubbling inside my body. They come out depending on what language I’m speaking, who I’m speaking to, where I am, or what I’m watching or listening to.

I’m definitely not the only one raving about Past Lives, Celine Song’s debut feature film, but I wasn’t the least bit surprised when I felt that this was a story that really resonated with me. And here’s why.

This article contains some spoilers. Read at your own risk. You can also pin our (spoiler-free) summary at the bottom!

Going Beyond a Love Story

It’s difficult to categorise Past Lives. Is it a love story? Is it an immigrant drama? It’s a bit of both, but neither at the same time.

The fact that Nora (Greta Lee) is an immigrant — and so, to an extent, is Arthur (John Magaro) as a Jewish-American — is never truly explored (and rightly so). There isn’t much of a real romance between childhood sweethearts Nora and Hae-sung (Teo Yoo) either: their romance is ill-timed and out of sync.

Nora’s relationship with her husband, Arthur (John Magaro), is tender and wonderfully realistic. They’re in love, but their love, as most romantic relationships go, is warm and tranquil after almost a decade together. It’s seen in holding hands, honest smiles, and cups of coffee brought to work. It’s felt in Arthur’s attempts to learn Korean and Nora’s honesty when sharing her encounters with Hae-sung. There’s no boiling passion or crazy changes in destiny, as is commonplace for a romantic movie.

No, Past Lives stands in a very particular category, one that films from Yasujiro Ozu and Satyajit Ray also belong to. One of the exploration of the human heart.

In the end, Past Lives is a film about free will and the consequences of our decisions — even though one of the concepts explored by the characters throughout their tale is the Korean idea of “in yun“. In yun dictates that the ties that we have today come from connections that we have had in our previous lives — as if we’re all fated to meet certain people because we’ve already met them thousands of times before, as our other selves in past realities.

In Yun, Past Lives, and Free Will

Nora and Hae-sung talk about in yun when, in fact, their lives were dictated by their own actions: Hae-sung looking for Nora after military service; Nora deciding to reach out to Hae-sung when she discovers that he’s been trying to find her; Nora’s decision to dedicate herself to her craft instead of leaving everything behind and flying to Seoul; Hae-sung’s decision to go to China instead of New York. These aren’t “lost chances”, as they’ve been described. They are decisions that were consciously made and that led to certain consequences. Everything we do, no matter how small and insignificant, has a consequence. Cause and effect. In Past Lives, a chain of Nora’s and Hae-sung’s actions was the cause, and the two different lives that Nora and Hae-sung lead in 2022 were the effect.

The visual sign of what was to come was right there, in the first 10 or so minutes of the feature. Song and cinematographer Shabier Kirchner wisely show that future with that beautiful shot of young Nora and Hae-sung following two different paths once the road in front of them splits into two. Hae-sung, yearning for connection, stops and calls out for Nora (or Na-young, as she was then), incapable of shouldering the weight of letting her go without a mere “bye”. Na-young, who keeps marching ahead without a flinch, turns back to look at him before she continues her journey.

Colour and Cinematography in Past Lives

Despite making his own choices and accepting Nora’s, Hae-sung keeps on living with the dream of what could be or, as he finds out later, what could’ve been. Colour shows that very clearly: Hae-sung wears blue for most of the film, as a child and an adult. Even after all those years, he’s still the same: a kind-hearted boy who is in love, or whatever he believes being in love is, with that 12-year-old girl he met at school. Meanwhile, Nora wears different colours throughout the film, representing her tendency to embrace and respond to change.

The story develops visually in a way that reminds me of Asian cinematography. Some shots are there to allow the story to breathe, sometimes contemplative, sometimes slightly disquieting. Some shots convey that bittersweet connection between character and space. What Song and Kirchner do very, very well is using reflections and silhouettes. There are mirrors, puddles, and Skype calls. A cigarette break outside the hotel, a walk past a boat. The audience can’t really see their face, but can they see it themselves? Can they really see each other? Do they really show what they honestly feel? Are they hiding their disappointments, fears, and hopes? Are Nora and Hae-sung a reflection of one another?

Nora, Hae-sung, Arthur and the Thread that Connects Them

It turns out that Arthur and Hae-sung are two very open characters, and their “reflections” become verbalised throughout the film. Arthur clearly tells Nora that he might never be able to fully understand her, as her Korean persona is something that he’ll probably never get to really experience. But human beings are human beings, and he’s the one who foresees that Hae-sung only came to New York to see his childhood friend, which is something that Hae-sung only confesses to much later in the film. Hae-sung also sees that Nora isn’t Na-young anymore, and her American persona is someone he doesn’t, and will likely never, get to truly know. Arthur and Hae-sung are the same, both looking at Nora from opposite sides of her personality spectrum.

But Nora isn’t just those two sides. She’s a lover, a writer, a Korean, an American, a daughter, a sister, a classmate. She’s human and, as any other human being on this planet, she has many facets that no one will ever understand — not even herself. Na-young used to be a crybaby, but Nora, after experiencing the huge change brought by the immersion into a completely new culture, doesn’t cry. To Hae-sung, the one who knows the little crying girl, she confesses that she stopped crying after moving to Canada because “no one cared”. To Arthur, the one who knows the strong and confident woman, she says that Hae-sung was the one who used to be there, watching her cry her eyes out because of her grades.

Nora’s Journey and The Perfect Final Sequence

Crying is just a symbol of Nora’s journey — as is her name change. She had to let go of Na-young to become Nora. She had to become thick-skinned, independent, and resilient. She did, and so she grew, she became who she wanted to be and went where she wanted to go.

That doesn’t mean that Na-young goes through a complete transformation. Not at all: these changes arise from her inherent determination. The same little girl who wanted to get the best grades in class is the one who decides to go to the artistic residence, and the same one who becomes a playwright. First, she realises that she needs to stop crying. Then, when she deems that her fragile and long-distance connection with Hae-sung might distract her from her goals, she asks Hae-sung for a break. Finally, she gathers her courage and meets Hae-sung in New York, a decade later, as if to prove to herself that he was a real person. Not a memory, not words in an email, not an image on her computer screen. He was real and, between them, there was still a connection of… love? Admiration? Friendship?

Nora tries to rationalise and process it throughout Hae-sung’s stay in New York, but she only comes to terms with it once he leaves and she, finally — finally — allows herself to cry. There she is, almost a silhouette once again, in black, alone. She walks down the street, and Greta Lee’s palpable performance makes us feel that rush of emotion that is bubbling inside Nora before it bursts out. Nora is still Na-young. She’s still that little girl, but she’s also someone else now. This final sequence is a cathartic moment that makes us realise that Nora might just understand herself a tad better now. She has, at last, started to truly embrace her many selves.

The Beauty of Past Lives

The real beauty of Past Lives is in its complete and total lack of unnecessary drama, its human yet poetic dialogue, and its marvellous performances. There’s no “love triangle” here, no “who am I?” turmoil, no competition between the two men in Nora’s life. All three characters feel tangibly real, their emotions are painfully relatable, and, in exploring only these three (there are no friends, siblings, or parents that consume screentime), they are fleshed out right in front of our eyes, their storylines and personalities entwining, clashing and evolving.

Past Lives invites us to think of our own decisions, their consequences, and how things might have been different had we opted for a different path. A beautiful, touching, indispensable watch.

No time to read the entire review? Looking for the spoiler-free version? So why don’t you pin our summary? Just click it to pin it!

Past Lives is out on Blu-ray and DVD. You can also watch it on:

Have you watched Past Lives yet? Let me know what you think about it in the comments!

As a companion to this article, why don’t you give this fantastic interview with Collider a watch? It might be a bit long, but it’s definitely worth it. This is Celine Song discussing the film and her ideas behind this amazing script. She also talks about how she feels now that Past Lives was nominated for Best Picture and Best Original Screenplay at the Oscars 2024.

Talking about the Oscars, have you checked our review of Godzilla Minus One, the first Kaiju to ever win an Academy Award? Not yet? Have a read — I can’t wait to hear what you think of it!