Oh Jung-min‘s family drama “House of the Seasons” is something of an analysis of the decline of the family, as the traditions that bring it together also serve to push it apart. But moving at a slow, sleepy pace, its strengths can also act as its weaknesses.
House of the Seasons is screening at Melbourne International Film Festival
The Kims run a family-owned tofu business in rural Daegu. The grandfather Seung-pil (Woo Sang-jeon) having now retired, has handed the business over to the next generation in Tae-geun (Oh Man-seok), who he is far from confident in. Meeting for a Buddhist ceremony, the whole family are gathered once more, with disputes over the quality of their product.
Following the death of the matriarch Mal-nyeo (Son Sook), the family are together once more, emotions leading to further disputes over finances. The shortcomings of each are highlighted, as the more time they spend together, the further apart they grow. While a collection of large family gatherings take place across the seasons for various rituals, dialogues between pairs are the focus; it is easier to speak one-on-one rather than as a group.
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By far the film’s strength is its cinematography from Lee Jin-keun, with the camera often filled with members of the family, showing how claustrophobic an environment in these sorts of gatherings can become. There is no space to breathe, with Seung-pil always watching over, and Tae-geun’s overbearing alcoholism dominating any scenario. For younger members and outsiders, one can’t help but laugh.
Oh uses long takes to allow the lack of space to linger over the screen, each member often holding back in the group. It is once they are alone with another that they each finally feel able to speak their mind. And it is in these exchanges where the downfall of the family unit is realized. Those deemed less talented remain at home, while those with more ambition are allowed to leave to flourish.
Grandson Seong-jin (Kang Seung-ho), is the brightest, shining in Seoul as he tries to make it in film. Much like his grandfather, he is often silent, the two having a bond that doesn’t require words, with Seung-pil happy to see him leave to achieve. He could remain and make the family business grow, but he is for better things.
“House of the Seasons” does perhaps lack a little of its own flair, however. The funeral march immediately evokes Koreeda’s “Maborosi” but watching this, one very much gets the aura of Taiwanese cinema of the 80s and 90s. While it is no bad thing, it lacks something to differentiate it, offering little in the way of groundbreaking or revolutionary moments of cinema. The ending as the family patriarch walks into the distance is a nice parting shot, but a lot has to pass to reach it.
This is relaxing cinema, but can also be a little sleepy. There is a lot of darkness on screen and nothingness in plot development. Slow cinema is not a crime, but while this looks nice enough, it needs a bit more oomph to keep you fully engaged. Even the more emotional moments leave you a little flat.
“House of the Seasons” maybe isn’t the brilliant child fleeing to the capital for greatness, but neither is it the useless son gradually ruining the family business. It is very much a middle child; quiet and unassuming.
