In 2014, the capsizing of the MV Sewol ferry claimed the lives of around 250 South Korean high schoolers. The tragedy and its aftermath, which found the South Korean government downplaying its own mishandling of the response, is loaded with an unthinkable pain. Any documentary on the subject would be emotionally devastating, but Lee So-Hyun's documentary “The Talent Show” goes even deeper. It follows a handful of the young victims' mothers who form an acting troupe and eventually star in a play in which they portray versions of their own deceased children. The idea alone is almost unbearably vulnerable. It's rare to witness such unfiltered expressions of grief, and watching these mothers work through their deepest heartbreak on a public stage runs the risk of emotional voyeurism. Luckily, Lee has crafted a vulnerable, profound film that never veers into misery porn as it explores the most extreme edges of the human experience.
The Talent Show is screening at Women Direct. Korean Indies! Korean Women Independent Film Series
The focus here is on the mothers, and there is very little time dedicated to the specifics of the sinking itself. It was such a massive news story, and remains such an open wound, that simply recounting the event would have been redundant, especially since there have already been acclaimed films and documentaries about the incident. Instead, Lee completely centers on the mothers, each of whom carry enough struggle to film a dozen movies. In fact, the opening minutes make no mention of what has brought these women together. In place of news footage and text explaining the incident are scenes of the moms going about their daily routine and preparing for their performances. Occasionally, their resting sadness threatens to burst out from subtle eye movements or hanging pictures of their children in the background, but a viewer unaware of their circumstances might describe them as happy, normal parents.
As the doc progresses and the reality of the situation is made clear, the aching grief they feel comes bubbling to the surface. Through tears, we hear them describe the dreams and interests and bodies of their deceased children. It's overwhelming at times, and there are moments when it feels like we are being shown things we were never meant to see. This uneasiness is complicated, however, by the fact that they themselves are willingly showcasing their trauma on a stage for their whole country to see. Their travelling show is meant to keep the tragedy's memory fresh in the minds of the Korean people, but the unspoken concern is that it is preventing them from moving on from their own loss. By inhabiting the “characters” of their dead loved ones, are they being masochistic? When does holding onto the memory of someone you've lost become unhealthy?
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What's impressive is that “The Talent Show” manages to tackle these questions while also being an enjoyable, even uplifting, cinematic experience. Life goes on, even for people living in the shadow of a senseless loss, and some of the strongest scenes involve the mothers laughing together and getting into petty arguments while vying for starring roles. These are not one-dimensional martyrs; they are vibrant, eccentric, flawed people. The behind-the-scenes glimpses into their creative processes, which find them unlocking parts of themselves they never knew existed, are fascinating. They genuinely want to hone their craft and put on a good show, and there's something heroic about their refusal to merely rely on sympathy from the audience.
Lee captures their bravery with a relaxed, unobtrusive style. The camera almost never calls attention to itself, making it easier to fully focus on the subjects. Everyday kitchens and bedrooms and auditoriums become backdrops for tearful monologues and celebrations of the human spirit that rival most epic dramas, and nothing comes off as inauthentic. Interestingly, the use of melancholy piano in the soundtrack feels almost out of place in a work so uninterested in basic emotional manipulation.
This is an ongoing story, and processing grief isn't as simple as finding a good form of catharsis. The filmmakers have found a way to give the mothers narrative arcs while never imposing a rigid structure on their life stories, and there's no forced resolution. This open-endedness allows for the honesty needed to elevate the material into something profound instead of opportunistic or cynical.
“The Talent Show” documents a story of resilience and healing that would be compelling even in a mediocre film, but Lee, much like the mothers at the center of the movie, isn't content phoning it in. The obvious love behind the camera for these women is palpable, resulting in a documentary nearly as nuanced and inspiring as its subjects.
