More than once, the protagonists in Mimang wonder where they are and where they’re going—it is a concrete, geographical question born from walking around the streets of Seoul, but as the film progresses, that urban journey also proves to be an existential one. We accompany the characters in some stretches of their path—many years separate each of the episodes that make up the film, and that distance reveals changes through what remains. This is not a film about earthquakes, but about small transformations, and the marks of time can be seen not only in the actors’ bodies, but also in that other omnipresent protagonist that is Seoul, whose vitality invades every shot. Like others before him (it’s inevitable to think about Truffaut or Linklater), here, Kim Taeyang reminds us that cinema is the best time machine that has been invented so far.
源自：https://www.mardelplatafilmfest.com/38/en/pelicula/mimang
The day Kelly-Anne has been waiting for has arrived. The trial begins for Ludovic Chevalier, accused of the brutal murder of three underage girls. Unlike most people, Kelly-Anne is fascinated by the man, she becomes obsessed with him and attends every single court hearing in the hope he’ll give her at least a fleeting glance. The border between reality and fantasy starts to blur, however, until Kelly-Anne ceases to be a mere passive observer. Pascal Plante once again expresses an interest in female subjectivity, nevertheless, this time he has come up with an arthouse thriller about the perilous attraction of evil. At the same time, the interplay between what we can and can’t see, and what is explicit and what is conjecture, develops into an almost physical viewing experience.
源自：https://www.kviff.com/en/programme/film/63/40082-red-rooms
