"Past Lives": the merits and limits of autofiction

Oscars series pt. 3

This is the third post in my Oscars series. If you haven’t yet, check out the other two installments in this series and don’t forget to like and subscribe :)

I came into “Past Lives” very hostile to it. Based on the trailer, I could tell it was a fictionalized portrayal of the filmmaker Celine Song’s life— autofiction, in other words, which is something I don’t typically like. Not only that, but it was autofiction where the stand-in for the filmmaker is portrayed as a sympathetic character who struggles with tender emotions. That’s something I dislike even more. That’s something I’m constantly trying to run away from with my own writing.

Perhaps you don’t share my same revulsion to autofiction but it’s sort of a meme in literary communities. Some people hate it, some people love it. For those who hate it, such as myself, it comes off as self-indulgent, pretentious, and precious. For those who love it, it can be a way to portray the subtle but powerful emotions that we often encounter in life but rarely encounter in made-up stories. “Past Lives” does what autofiction can do right but it also falls into some of the usual traps.

I don’t know a whole lot about Celine Song and I want to be clear that nothing I’m going to say about this movie is an attack on her as a person. I do know, however, that she was born to two artists, emigrated from South Korea at a young age, and eventually became a playwright in New York City. All of that can be said of Nora, the main character of “Past Lives”. The Hae Sung character— the man with whom the main character shared her first experience of love in childhood— may or may not exist in real life. It could be that he only represents the bedrock of her Korean identity, which is central to Song and the main character’s life but is something that their white husbands cannot relate to. It does not really matter if there is someone like him in real life. The character is a great way for Song to approach the most interesting thematic content of the movie. We can’t fully understand another person, even if they are the person we love more than anything. We don’t always know our partners when they were children and that inner child is central to who they are today. The cultural difference heightens this dilemma and makes it more interesting and relevant.

That’s all good and I don’t have a problem with it. The challenge comes with the portrayal of the filmmaker’s persona as a sympathetic character. This is a notoriously tricky thing to get right and I don’t think Song has quite done it here. If we take a something like “Curb Your Enthusiasm,” we can see autofiction done really well. A large part of that is because Larry David portrays himself as a total asshole. That’s really funny. It’s entertaining for us lowly audience members to see this rich and successful guy make fun of himself. It would not be as fun to see a rich and successful guy talk about how, actually, he really has a lot of hard feelings to deal with. We wouldn’t really feel sorry for him because we know he’s still receiving millions of dollars from “Seinfeld.” Of course, rich people probably do have a lot of hard feelings but as audience members we go by our basest instincts— and jealousy is one of those.

I don’t think “Past Lives” is quite aware of this jealousy. When Hae Sung arrives, Nora’s husband feels threatened because he can tell that Sung arouses something in Nora that he cannot. He questions their marriage, asking if it is what she really wanted: living in a tiny apartment in the East Village with a jewish novelist. Now, let’s be clear here— making a living off of your art, married to another artist, and being able to afford any apartment in Manhattan is like THE end goal of countless artists, including myself. I completely envy the main characters for being able to pull that off. But Nora says something to the effect of, “This is how my life happened and I’m here with you.” It’s not the worst line of dialogue and it does get at the central theme of the story. Still, Nora has achieved her childhood goal of becoming a professional artist yet she does not bring that up here. This is what she wanted. It’s not just how her life happened. She isn’t aware of that here, even though she is typically a very self-aware character.

The film’s blindspot to the audience’s jealousy might not even be its weakest moments, which are front loaded in the first act. The bonding between Hae Sung and Nora tends to feel more procedural than enchanting. We see them playing as children. We see them compete for the top grades in class. It’s pretty much just what children do and the film doesn’t really do a lot to add to that. When Hae Sung and Nora grow up and reconnect online is when their conversations border on banal. On a Skype call, Hae Sung reveals that he’s learning Mandarin to move to China for work. Nora says, “Ni Hao Ma? That’s all I know.” They laugh. It’s not really that funny. It’s pretty much the most basic response to someone when they say they’re learning a language. You might laugh in the moment but, portraying it on screen, it’s not very interesting to watch. It’s not enchanting. It doesn’t make the audience fall in love with their love so that the stakes are high when it is ripped away.

The explanation I have for this is that this is Song’s debut feature and it doesn’t quite take advantage of the medium of film. A good comparison could be the first kiss that happens in “The Spectacular Now,” linked below. Here we see the film using a long, tracking take as two teens chat as romantic tension builds and finally releases in a kiss. The dialogue is about as realistic as “Past Lives” but it enchanting through the filmmaking. The length of the take, combined with Teller and Woodley’s semi-improvised performance, really absorbs us into the movie. It makes us fall in love with their love in a way that “Past Lives” doesn’t.

While the romantic buildup in “Past Lives” could be more absorbing and less procedural, the third act still manages to be taught with tension. That’s what makes it a good movie. The fact that it left me feeling melancholy after having approached it so skeptically is proof of that. It really transcends in the ending. Hae Sung and Nora are waiting for his Uber which will take him back to the airport. They’ve already come to a decision that they are not right for each other in this life but maybe they have been in a past life or they will be in future lives. And yet, this is the last chance they have to… to kiss? to run away together? The tension runs so high in the air that we feel like we can peer right into the depths of each character’s soul.

They hug and Hae Sung gets into the Uber as Nora walks back to her husband and balls in his arms. It’s a great ending. It is where the film gets autofiction right. If this was “The Graduate” they would have made the bold choice that only movie people can do. In real life, we’re not as bold. In real life, there is all sorts of ambiguity of feelings. We might be attracted to someone but we will remain faithful to our partners. In movie land, the characters tend not to remain faithful so that we can see their lives burn, which we’re fascinated by.

But this is all just what I think and my quibbling could just come down to the fact that I’m jealous of professional artists. What are your thoughts?