In Front of Your Face (Hong Sangsoo, 2021) (Patreon)

Lots of filmmakers were forced to change up their methods in order to keep working during the Covid-19 lockdown. But Hong Sangsoo is one from whom you might not expect any dramatic changes, since most of his films are intimate talkfests built around just a handful of actors. In Front of Your Face is very recognizably a Hong film. The very first shot features a close-up of a sleeping woman, Jeongok (Cho Yunhee), with the frame pierced ever so delicately by a loving hand, that of her older sister Sangok (Lee Hyeyoung). Then, in Hong's signature, understated manner, the image zooms out and gently pans to the right, to show us the two women together, and then Sangok in isolation.

But it doesn't take long for a viewer to detect subtle differences that distinguish In Front of Your Face from Hong's 25 (!!!) previous features. As the two women begin interacting, it almost appears as if there will be no men encroaching on this small universe. This turns out not to be the case, but Hong's favored antagonist, the self-involved male film director (Kwon Haehyo) doesn't show up until the final third of the film, and before this, the women are so tender toward one another that until Jeongok calls Sangok "sis," the two could easily be mistaken for estranged lovers experiencing a tense reunion.

This impression is half-right; Sangok has been living in Seattle and has fallen out of touch with her family in Korea. While she faces gentle recriminations from Jeongok on this score, she is eerily unflappable. This could be related to an early scene in Jeongok's apartment, where Sangok is seen alone, stretching and meditating while reciting mindfulness affirmations to herself (which we hear in voiceover). "I will not focus on yesterday. I will not focus on tomorrow. I will exist entirely in the present. I am in grace." Hong introduces Sangok's unique perspective without explanation, and we surmise that she is in AA or some other 12-step program.

The truth is far more bracing, and an attentive viewer will figure out where the film is going before too terribly long. When one susses out Sangok's situation, there is a tension between the plot and Hong's handling of it, suggesting that he might make the bold decision to leave the narrative's primary element completely unspoken. In Front of Your Face does exhibit a tense formal reticence even for Hong, calling to mind such literary forebears as Hemingway, Didion, or Mukakami.  The film seems to share their laconic style, one that privileges negative space over direct articulation.

But in fact, Hong takes a different tack. In meeting with Jaewon the director, Sangok makes clear that she was once an actress and has given it up. And she very casually reveals her secret to Jaewon, indicating that he -- practically a stranger -- is the only person she's told. What follows is a remarkable concrescence of Hong's usual themes of male / female misunderstanding and, in particular, male immaturity. Sangok is suddenly in the position of reassuring Jaewon, and in explicitly outlining her newfound philosophy of mindfulness and acceptance, she only underlines just how hopelessly self-absorbed Jaewon really is.

But Sangok is beyond caring. She accepts his overtures, and then, in the penultimate scene, laughs ruefully when Jaewon retracts his gestures all at once, refusing Sangok both physical comfort and a possible artistic legacy. The final shot is a direct mirroring of the first, with Sangok the older sister looking over the sleeping Jeongok. In Front of Your Face, as the title suggests, is a blunt, quietly angry film, one that never actually addresses the pandemic but instead explores the broader condition of mortality. Due to quarantines, many Covid-19 patients had to die in isolation. This global horror has prompted Hong to meditate on the harsher facts of the human experience. In one way or another, we all die alone.