Born to Sing: Live to Cry

Do I cry too easily? Possibly. Because even a very predictable, conventional movie about a talent show and its hard-luck singing contestants can turn me into a bucket of tears. I don't know why I'm so easily manipulated even when, like with Born to Sing, I can see where it's going right from the very beginning. The forgetful old man (Oh Hyeong-kyeong) with the prickly granddaughter (Kim Hwan-hee) is going to get the love he deserves; the bashful 20-something (Lee Cho-hee) swoony for her adorable co-worker (Yoo Yeon-seok) is going to get kissed, married and laid in that order; and the henpecked has-been (Kim In-kwon) is going to get back to his rock roots and win over a nation and his hairdressing wife (Ryu Hyeon-kyeong). I cried for every story, every success, every cliche. Pretty much every time!

Before the tears, I confess my interest in Born to Sing was fleeting. As directed by Lee Jong-pil, this sitcom of uplift isn't as competent in building back stories or belly laughs. The comic relief -- an off-key mayor (Kim Su-mi), an overaged delivery boy (Kim Jung-gi) and a self-advancing politico (Oh Kwang-rok) -- are each a little too real. What could've been a series of comically quirky characters come across as sad, small-town lives. Not that sad, mind you. I didn't cry for them. They're more depressing in a lightweight, inoffensive kind of way. Like people you meet in life, people who have their own small dreams and self-delusions, people that aren't going to win and who you'll never see again so really what does it matter.

Is there a subversive message here? Are we expected to chase our dreams and not settle for less after watching Born to Sing? Should we crash the karaoke bars and open mics and company off-site talent shows? To be honest, I hardly think so. I think we'd be better off heading to the cineplex to see good movies like this one and, if we're lucky, something better.

Night Fishing: There's a Great Horror Film Playing on Your iPhone

The universal language of the movies ended with the advent of the talkies. Or so people say. But watching Park Chan-wook's Night Fishing, the short film he made (on an iPhone no less) with his brother Chan-kyon, leads me to disagree. Even without subtitles, this mini-movie speaks volumes, especially in its opening sequence, basically an addictively watchable music video featuring the South Korean indie ensemble The UhUhBoo Project. Watch those fantastical first few minutes in which the four band members jam on an abandoned country road while a kat -- a traditional wide-brimmed hat -- floats magically through the air as the world turns upside down then tell me you think that English is necessary.

Actually the Park brothers subvert the need for dialogue quite a bit throughout Night Fishing. In other sections of the film, you'll find the fisherman (Oh Kang-rok) singing to himself (language unimportant) or listening to the radio (language unimportant) for short stretches. Even the night itself speaks its own comprehensible tongue as the wind blows through the reeds and some bells atop a fishing pole are set to ringing. Later a shaman (Lee Jung-hyun) conducting an elaborate ritual at the fisherman's funeral reminds us that symbolic visuals too speak a language all their own. Talking is so overrated, isn't it?

And really, how much needs to be said explicitly when the topic is life and death. The first half of Night Fishing is surreal but pretty easy to follow: A middle-aged loner has a freakish encounter with a resurrected drowned woman who gets entangled in his fishing lines. (Because this is a Park flick, of course a hook gets caught in her lip and she vomits water repeatedly in his face upon returning from the dead.) The second half is a bit more cryptic: The drowned woman is leading a spiritual ceremony involving self-baptism, the cutting of a long translucent fabric, and a young girl (Kim Hwan-hee) in a wheelchair. I can't say this latter part makes total sense in the end but given the entire film is only about a half-hour long, Night Fishing never tries the patience. To the contrary, it invites repeated viewings.

With technology making filmmaking as readily accessible as the phone in your pocket, now anyone can create a mini-masterpiece without a lot of money. All they need is a cool script, great actors, a willingness to test the limits of technology, and the singular vision of a true artist. Don't believe me? Pick up your phone and play Night Fishing now.