Love and worship… A Hometown of the Heart (1949), Korean Film Festival

This year’s London Korean Film Festival is celebrating a century of Korean film but sadly much of the first 30 years is lost which is why Yong-Gyu Yoon’s striking, bitter-sweet film is to be treasured all the more. It’s a beautifully shot film that finds pain even in peace and is a fearless examination of family, maternal bonds and mortal sin: do we deserve happiness, is it even a natural state?

A young boy is abandoned aged three by his mother and left in the care of monks at a Buddhist temple in the hills far outside Seoul. She is poor and unable to care for one more child and as we join the film we see the boy Do-seong – played with remarkable tenderness by Min Yu – a few years on, trying to understand why he was abandoned and clinging on to the hope that someday she will return.

The chief monk (Ki-jong Byeon) won’t reveal the truth and wants Do-seong to complete his spiritual journey in order to atone for the sins of his mother but, as those around tell him tales can he attain this higher level in ignorance? The temple worker (Heon-yong Oh) who tells him his mother will return when he has grown taller or when the next year has passed, means well but this only keeps him in a childlike state of grace.

Other boys hunt for birds as Do-seong lives in discipline and hope.

Min Yu and Eun-hie Choi

A widow (Eun-hie Choi) and her mother (Geum-seong Seok) visit the temple, seeking to make sense of her loss by contributing to the upkeep of the sacred site. Grief attracts loss and the boy and widow become drawn to each other. Eventually the widow asks to adopt Do-seong and take him to live in Seoul where she will pay for his education and he will live well… it’s an answer to the boy’s prayers, a new “mother” to fill the void he has always struggled with.

The widow has a fan made from feathers and Do-seong starts killing birds to make a similar fan for his mother who he is certain he will meet in Seoul. The need for his mother leads him away from Buddhist instruction and there can only be trouble when she does indeed arrive, unknown to him, to argue with the master that she should have him back. The priest is unbending and, for the boy’s spiritual wellbeing, insists that he stay.

Clearly there is going to be a conflict between the strictures of faith and maternal love and the film deals with this in unexpected and thought-provoking ways. It says much that speaks to the modern heart and the juxtaposition of Do-seong’s turmoil with the peaceful surroundings subverts expectations: there is no peace without love and loyalty is a poor substitute for family.

Yong-Gyu Yoon’s understands the mind of a child and balances his emotional narratives with sublime external cinematography. His challenge to the audience is both subtle and respectful, you cannot watch this film without taking sides, forming opinions and, ultimately being surprised.

The London KoreanFilm Festival continues until 14th and then heads out around the UK; full details on the website!