People And Meat
Introduction
Aging and loneliness are two of the worst pandemics to have marred the human race. More often than not, both these aspects unfold in the form of phases in an individual’s life. But, it is only during the final leg of an individual’s life that both these aspects join forces to weigh an individual down. Think of it – you are in your 70s, either you are married or you aren’t. If you aren’t, you already are lonely and depressed. If you are, your kids are settled in some other part of the world leaving you counting your days for the rest of your life. Therefore, old age has to be that tender phase wherein everything that you lived for until that point comes to a standstill, with people often reminding you of your age and your diminishing capabilities. And then when you see people your age leaving your side one at a time, it definitely leaves you all the more lonely. Interestingly, the new Korean film People And Meat has its building blocks on this very concept featuring three aging individuals who are practically in their last leg of their lives. There is a thread of commonality that ties the three individuals together – all of them are lonely, and all of them are barely surviving to make ends meet (in a culture that is known for a strong family structure like India, something that makes this drama all the more heartfelt). But the makers don’t wish to ponder a lot on this sentiment, in fact they take this concept while flipping it on its head in what is a fun crime drama about friendship with dollops of mayhem.
Story & Screenplay
The emotional core and the characterization in People And Meat go hand in hand here. When you are introduced to the character of U-sik (Jang Yong), you see him meeting his ends meet by collecting and selling cardboard. After a long day when you see him enter his apartment, you do realise that he has no one to talk to, while only having his pet cat for company. Hence, you understand his affection towards his cat in the form of food that he brings for her, at times even sharing a portion of his food. The fate of its other two protagonists isn’t much different – Hwa-jin (Ye Su Jeong) is a vegetable vendor by the street, making her ends meet in order to support her only surviving grandson who chooses to stay aloof from her, apart from asking a little money at times. Hyeon-jung (Park Keun-hyong) is a loner who is left to fend for himself by his two sons who aren’t in contact with him. To make matters worse, he cannot even sell his house given that it is in his son’s name.
Interestingly, the first meeting of the three protagonist is a comic one involving a brawl. But in the very next moment, you witness Hyeon-Jung and U-sik bonding at the former’s house. There is an instant connection given their fate of loneliness, while sharing a common love for ‘meat and radish’. And therein lies the third link when Hwa-jin is brought to the group after a quick purchase of the vegetable. In many ways, People And Meat can be viewed as a buddy film featuring three senior citizens that comes with a twist. Despite its pessimistic premise, the drama tweaks its emotional core into something that is fun and frolik when the trio decide to visit ‘popular restaurants’ to consume meat before leaving without paying a dime. The concept of ‘dash and dine’ would often be looked upon as a crime, but given the age bracket of the protagonists, there is this youthful energy to root for them, even as you hold your breaths during each of their comical escape.
Here the concept of a dash and dine is symbolic of two aspects – one stands for friendship and conversations that directly acts as an anecdote for the protagonists, the other is that of a youthful buzz that the trio brings to the table, mostly given their daredevil acts. It is quite enjoyable with a bittersweet after-taste knowing fully well that this won’t last for long. And therein lies its subtext, their mini-adventures are a reflection of life that is in the last leg for the three protagonists, particularly when the viewers are acquainted with a tragedy that is waiting to unfold between the three of them.
In all of this fun and frolik, the emotional core of the drama isn’t compromised. In a scene, you witness two separate incidents involving Hyeon-Jung —— one wherein he is silently learning the English language in hopes to interact with his son atleast once in his life, who he implies may not be in touch with the Korean language anymore. And second, wherein you witness a friend of his on a deathbed, calling him to meet him for the last time. The latter is more psychological in a bid to come to terms with another friend who won’t be with him anymore. In another scene, you witness Hwa-jin emotionally bidding her grandson a final goodbye before he starts his tenure with the military. For U-sik (the name is a giveaway), it is about life and death as the timer of the remainder of his life is ticking faster than ever. In all of this, when fate actually catches up with the trio, you kind of feel a sense of empathy for them.
The final act is an emotional tear-jerker that found me holding my breath while witnessing something that was inevitable. Yet the writing also included a commentary on the society and their behavior towards the trio. In a scene, you see a group of youngsters offering a piece of shroud to U-sik (a clothing that is donned on the dead body), even whilst he was alive. You also witness his character being briefly jailed and on the verge of an execution, leading to his brief disappearance much to the worry of Hyeon-jung and Hwa-jin. This eventually leads to a bittersweet ending that comes with a revelation that is both philosophical and laced with the concept of friendship. The slice of life finale is heart-touching synonymous to a need being tactfully inserted in the plains of your heart until it gently begins to explode. The screenplay has the ability to linger on, long after the film has ended.
Dialogues, Music & Direction
The dialogues have a sense of humour that erupts at some of the most unexpected places. For instance in a funeral scene, a character exclaims on how the photo at the funeral will wrongly indicate on how the deceased had died young (when the fact remained that he/she was old). Yet, the emotional core acts as an undercurrent in the drama, almost doubling up as a connecting tissue to tie up events together. The BGM beautifully compliments the bittersweet tone of the drama, in notes that are soft and make your way to your heart. The cinematography remains intimate while allowing the viewers an opportunity to stay connected and emotionally invested in the characters. The editing is crisp while also allowing room for emotions to beautifully linger on in the drama. Director Yang Jong-hyun beautifully weaves a story of friendship while maintaining the emotional core of the drama through its aging characters that definitely manage to strike a chord. The emotions don’t feel heavy (in a good way) because they are often intercut with utterly funny sequences that are laced with innocent bouts of humour. And therein lies the messaging of enjoying life to the fullest without being weighed down, something that the director exploits wonderfully well. The direction is brilliant here and manages to leave a lasting impression.
Performances
This is essentially a three character film, and the performances remain remarkable here. Ue Su Jeong as Hwa-jin adds a lovely feminine touch to the drama, always being a more pragmatic character with a strong sense of morality. And that morality does stem from her mid-life wherein she had to struggle a lot after her ‘boss’ mysteriously disappeared after one day. And the amount of emotions that she brings to the table, is simply beautiful here. Park Keun-hyong as Hyeong-jung has a mischievious energy that he often uses as a shield for his vulnerability and loneliness. In his heart of hearts, he silently hopes to reconcile with his children in what feels like a sense of longing. But his reality paints a different picture. Yet, he finds his solace in friendship with his mates while wanting to hold onto it as a welcome consolation. These complex and conflicting emotions are wonderfully portrayed in a stellar act. Jang Yong as U-sik is a person who may have been lonely for most parts of his life. Even if it meant, leaving the love of his life behind, you still didn’t seem him flinch. But all of his emotions seem to have taken the form of a poetry, that erupts at a latter stage (or so being stumbled upon). He has come to acceptance that he hasn’t achieved anything remarkable in his life, while wanting to experience ‘adventure’ through his dine and dash techniques in order to feel alive, one last time until he has to hang his boots. These emotions are beautifully portrayed in an excellent performance that allows you to invest in him, and cheer for him too.
Conclusion
As a part of our Tribeca Film Festival coverage, People And Meat is a bittersweet drama on loneliness and friendship laced in an emotional tale of aging that makes for a heartfelt watch.
