'Spring, Summer, Autumn - (or Fall, if you will)- Winter
and Spring' is, as the title should imply, a fable very much in the 'cycle of life' cache, so simply crafted and yet so flowing with gentle complexity at the same time. It works wonders both as an episodic coming of age saga concerning one man's life-long quest for inner peace and balance, and a refreshing type of character study where actions and physical mannerisms are thrust more attention than words; the dialogue here is minimal, yet the two key characters still display a surprising amount of depth - every subtle tear and drop of sweat adds up - and I found myself completely drawn in by it. The background settings are as delightfully picturesque as background settings come, and the movie's pacing is both gradual and thoughtful, while still leaving room for some slight drizzles of drama, and a handful of haunting, even harrowing, moments which capture the rougher side of living, but nothing to detract from the overall calming sensation you're left with. The result is a seriously unique slice of life and inspiration, and hats off to Ki-duk Kim for it.
Overall, things are left ambiguous enough for us viewers to draw our own merry conclusions, and so rich in all those little minor details which build up the bigger picture that you could spend hours assessing them right down to the very last shade of blue, and dissecting each and everything for all the symbolism and abstract concepts they might embody. It's one of those flicks that has different meanings to different people, I guess. Personally, I'd be happy enough taking it on its direct face value level - things are what they are, they're there because they're there, and what you're seeing is exactly what you get. Cast all possible symbolism aside and it's still a perfectly effective offering about the trials and triumphs of one man's life. And yes, this particular life's complicated enough without all those itty-bitty extra meanings.
The Holy Man's ever-changing assortment of animal companions are probably the best example. We go through the various seasons always with a puppy, chicken, cat, snake or tortoise successively at our sides, and viewers are liable fill up an entire message board debating whether it's the positive or negative aspects of our protagonist they're meant to symbolize - the chicken being lust and brashness, and the puppy being youthful ignorance, the cat being idleness, etc.
But really, their exact species, in most cases, is pretty incidental - their reason for being there doesn't need to be anything more complicated than simply to emphasize time and the changes it entails. A different animal with every new 'season' further marks the shift in time since our last visit to the temple. Note also that the snake arrives on the scene exactly as the older man departs (you don't really need to be familiar with Buddhist practices to follow this one, although it might be helpful to know that apparently that is actually an established self-cremating ritual which comes of knowing the exact moment of your death in advance, and not a suicide by any means), and you can take it as a hint that it may well be his reincarnated self (it's lovely BTW to finally find a flick where snakes are represented in a positive frame). In light of that, isn't it also kinda tempting to subscribe to the possibility that the remaining four could also be the reincarnated souls of the temple's former residents, whoever they might be? That notion satisfies me a lot more than that of the chicken just standing in for some hot burning passion, or whatever.
Then there's the mysterious woman who arrives at the temple with a cloth covering her face. And that's all she really is - a mysterious woman who arrives at the temple with a cloth covering her face. Her exact identity isn't revealed, and nor does it have to be. And we don't really have any means of working it out either, so why worry about that? It is clear though that she's a desperate person in such dire straits that she's forced to conceal her real identity and depart ways with her son, and we can still feel for her on that.
In short, this film is what you make of it, and it more or less goes without saying that it only becomes a complicated puzzle if you make it one.
My own personal quest for inner peace still continues but, needless to say, this movie provided me with 103 beautiful minutes of escapism and bliss.
Overall, things are left ambiguous enough for us viewers to draw our own merry conclusions, and so rich in all those little minor details which build up the bigger picture that you could spend hours assessing them right down to the very last shade of blue, and dissecting each and everything for all the symbolism and abstract concepts they might embody. It's one of those flicks that has different meanings to different people, I guess. Personally, I'd be happy enough taking it on its direct face value level - things are what they are, they're there because they're there, and what you're seeing is exactly what you get. Cast all possible symbolism aside and it's still a perfectly effective offering about the trials and triumphs of one man's life. And yes, this particular life's complicated enough without all those itty-bitty extra meanings.
The Holy Man's ever-changing assortment of animal companions are probably the best example. We go through the various seasons always with a puppy, chicken, cat, snake or tortoise successively at our sides, and viewers are liable fill up an entire message board debating whether it's the positive or negative aspects of our protagonist they're meant to symbolize - the chicken being lust and brashness, and the puppy being youthful ignorance, the cat being idleness, etc.
But really, their exact species, in most cases, is pretty incidental - their reason for being there doesn't need to be anything more complicated than simply to emphasize time and the changes it entails. A different animal with every new 'season' further marks the shift in time since our last visit to the temple. Note also that the snake arrives on the scene exactly as the older man departs (you don't really need to be familiar with Buddhist practices to follow this one, although it might be helpful to know that apparently that is actually an established self-cremating ritual which comes of knowing the exact moment of your death in advance, and not a suicide by any means), and you can take it as a hint that it may well be his reincarnated self (it's lovely BTW to finally find a flick where snakes are represented in a positive frame). In light of that, isn't it also kinda tempting to subscribe to the possibility that the remaining four could also be the reincarnated souls of the temple's former residents, whoever they might be? That notion satisfies me a lot more than that of the chicken just standing in for some hot burning passion, or whatever.
Then there's the mysterious woman who arrives at the temple with a cloth covering her face. And that's all she really is - a mysterious woman who arrives at the temple with a cloth covering her face. Her exact identity isn't revealed, and nor does it have to be. And we don't really have any means of working it out either, so why worry about that? It is clear though that she's a desperate person in such dire straits that she's forced to conceal her real identity and depart ways with her son, and we can still feel for her on that.
In short, this film is what you make of it, and it more or less goes without saying that it only becomes a complicated puzzle if you make it one.
My own personal quest for inner peace still continues but, needless to say, this movie provided me with 103 beautiful minutes of escapism and bliss.