We have always been preoccupied with the concept of time – whether it is in the form of reflecting on the past and wishing we could go back in time, or pondering the future by trying to predict what the next stage of our lives will bring. It almost seems as if we are never quite satisfied with the present moment, which is peculiar since it is the future that our prior selves looked forward to, and is the past that we will look back on fondly. It’s an interesting concept that is most certainly universal to all of us since we have all had these discussions with ourselves at some point. Literature has done exceptionally well in capturing both of these experiences, whether in those works that attempt to look back at the past in the form of historical stories or period pieces, or those we find in the realm of science fiction, where artists speculate on the future. A film that combines elements of both comes on behalf of Lee Hyun-Seung, who directs Il Mare (Korean: 시월애), in which he tells the touching and compelling story of Sung-hyun and Eun-joo, two occupants of a house on the idyllic shores of South Korea, who form a strong bond that eventually flourishes into a beautiful relationship, with the only caveat being that, despite living in the same home, they exist in different timelines, being separated by two years, living parallel lives that briefly come into contact, but don’t intersect until much later when they have managed to defy the very laws of logic and time itself, their love shattering one of the most unimpeachable boundaries imaginable. Entertaining, but not excessive, this film is very striking in both form and content, provoking certain ideas and ultimately having quite a distinct point of view, which is beautifully conveyed as we navigate this story and its many unexpected turns.

Il Mare is a film that sets out to subvert genre from the very beginning – this is a story that employs elements from a range of different categories, plucking out the most ideal elements of each and putting them together to create something entirely different and unique. It may not honour each of these genres to its full capacity, but it is fascinating to see precisely how the director blends the different styles to create a unique project that carries the best aspects of them all. Primarily, this is a romantic drama that borrows elements of both science fiction and fantasy, with the idea of falling in love with someone from a different timeline being an interesting concept, and one that we haven’t seen done in quite this way. However, Lee is very cautious to not draw attention to the more abstract parts of the story, since the one currency that this film had was that it managed to be relatively plausible, so setting the two timelines only a few years apart (albeit over the millennium, so that was certainly an interesting addition when considering the more social and cultural aspects of the story) allowed it to use these bold ideas, but in a contained and logical environment, which was a terrific choice, and one of the reasons this film feels so fresh and compelling, even when it is skirting around the edges of becoming a bit too saccharine. This is a film that struggles to find the appropriate tone at times, and it veers towards becoming overly sentimental at many points, which can be frustrating for those who aren’t invested in this kind of trite melodrama that propelled this story. However, it’s not the emotions that drive this film on its own, but rather how it makes use of them, which is why it is so impressive, and its complex ideas are all beautifully contained within this charming story.

At the heart of this film are two wonderfully earnest, complex performances that may not appear like much at a cursory glance, but grow to be a pair of extremely powerful, endearing interpretations of star-crossed lovers that encounter the obstacle of time, which separates them and keeps their love at a distance, forcing them to find ways to overcome such an enormous boundary, which they do through simply embracing their strong emotional bond and spiritual connection. Lee cobbles together quite an impressive film around these two actors, with Lee Jung-jae and Jun Ji-hyun being amongst the brightest stars working in Korea at the time (and have subsequently gone on to become even more notable based on their steadily growing body of work, on both sides of the camera), but there is something so special about this film and how it uses these two actors. Inspired by classical romances like Before Sunrise and The Shop Around the Corner (the latter in particular, since they are both films about characters falling in love through written correspondence), the film rests squarely on their shoulders, and they make very light work of the sometimes dense and over-written screenplay that is riddled with cliches and inconsistencies, the kind that could have sunk any other film. The entire success of this film resides within these actors, and they are doing exceptional work, finding the details in every moment between these characters, and just generally being fantastic performers capable of capturing every nuance and detail, as if it were reflected in these characters themselves. They’re both exceptional and manage to do so much with very paltry material, which would not have been nearly as successful had less-gifted actors been tasked with bringing this story to the screen. No one else in the cast made that much of an impression, leaving most of the work to the two leads, who are simply remarkable, giving two of the strongest and most spirited performances of that particular year, as well as making a strong case for themselves as the future of Korean cinema in general.

Il Mare is not a film that aims to make much sense, nor should it aspire to do as such. Based on its premise alone, this was always going to be a project that would employ a far more abstract execution of what is already undeniably a very strange film. This is not science fiction in the way that makes us used to it – it is bizarre and peculiar in all the ways we may not always expect, and it becomes an exercise in seeing precisely how far the director can take these ideas before they become too wacky to handle, at which point he gently reins it in, rather than trying to double down on what is already not a particularly subtle film. The allegories are not at all elegant, and we know immediately what this film is trying to achieve, which makes it frustrating for those who want something with slightly more elegance, but not enough to compensate for certain elements that could have been elided to make for a tighter and more consistent film. However, absolutely none of this is accidental – this is a film that is bold and ambitious and has many peculiar ideas embedded deep within them, which gradually and steadily emerge the further we immerse ourselves in this film. Il Mare is a work that reflects the theme of desire and longing, as shown through the stories of two lonely individuals as they navigate new challenges that test them and cause each one of them to gradually attempt to shatter the boundaries established to keep them apart. It’s a very effective portrait of yearning, as seen through the perspective of two adults realizing the limits of their desire, and the lengths to which one can go to manifest some of these ideas.

Il Mare is not a film that always appreciates long, but it is difficult not to admire its boldness, and how it manages to so frequently defy logic in creative and fascinating ways, leading to a very charming and heartfelt romance, the kind that takes bold swings, even when a more subtle approach may have been far more appropriate. It proposes itself as some insightful and powerful psychological portrait, and while it is relatively successful in establishing a strong core for both of these characters, it is ultimately more of a depiction of love, as filtered through the lens of two very off-beat, unconventional protagonists. It is certainly a film that has its charms, and it very wisely never overstays its welcome, especially not when it comes to how it gradually unravels the layers that bind these characters. It is certainly a solid film, and while it isn’t revolutionary in any way, it has a certain honesty and forthright candour that means a lot, and it eventually flourishes into an unexpectedly moving, quiet demonstration of love defying the odds, which in this case refers to time itself – just because two people are divided by years doesn’t mean that they can’t form a connection, and while it does rely too heavily on the audience’s ability to suspend disbelief for long enough to believe that this is a plausible story, and not just a work of mediocre speculative fiction. It is a strong effort in theory, and even in practice, it has its moments of impact. As a whole, it is a solid, well-made and undeniably very interesting film, and with a slightly more concise execution and more attention to logic, it could have been one of the great romances of the past century, but instead has to settle for being merely passable, which is certainly not a bad position for a film such as this to ultimately end up occupying.