In 1999, Eun-ju, a girl moving out of a beautiful seaside house called “Il Mare,” leaves a letter providing Il Mare’s next occupant with her forwarding address. Strangely enough, the letter finds its way to the past, into the hands of an architect, Sung-hyun, who has just moved into the newly built house. He writes back and after some confusion, the two begin to understand the strange occurrence and exchange more letters, sparking an intimate relationship, separated only by time.
Though Il Mare was released in the same year as Ditto and much was fervently exclaimed about the astonishing similarity between the two slowly-waning-in-novelty premises, (without even getting started on Hollywood’s Frequency), the film still presents its own slightly altered take that doesn’t simply retread plots of its predecessors.
Il Mare’s main divergence is in the romance. While Ditto snugly fits into the same melodrama genre, its two protagonists are 21 years apart and they hardly entertain the possibility of getting together. They simply use each other to talk about the relationships going on in their lives. But because Il Mare’s heroes are only two years apart, it is their obligation to fall in love with each other for the viewer’s sake.
And as odd as it might seem for two people, who have never met, to fall in love over exchanged letters, director Lee Hyun-seung makes it work. Boundaries are swiftly transcended as the film portrays the exchanges through voice-over monologues where the characters alternate to read their letters. In a time when handwritten letters were rapidly going out of style, the device gives the film a wonderful simplicity, recalling Regency period type exchanges where a received letter becomes the most exciting part of the day.
While Ditto’s characters had the ability to speak with each other in real time and bounce off the other’s words in actual human interaction, Il Mare’s use of letters widens the gap between the two leads, enhancing the loneliness of their lives. The letter writing and reading are solitary activities, but Lee turns those scenes into the most magical ones with atmospheric montages of beautiful seaside scenery set to a melancholy piano score. We see our characters live out their dreary lives and understand their anticipation for the next part of their correspondence. Throughout the film, many seemingly insignificant moments are transformed into intense ones— even a character’s act of putting on earmuffs elicits a rush of emotion.
Both actors also deliver fine performances. Pre-My Sassy Girl Jeon Ji-hyun captures her character’s lovelorn and subdued personality convincingly, while Lee Jung-jae matches her, offering some achingly painful scenes with the utmost awkwardness. The characters are developed and consistent—sometimes perhaps a little too consistent as when Eun-ju repeatedly complains about her lost love into excess.
The film’s only other misstep is the unavoidable paradox in time-travel films that comes from trying to change the past. Il Mare falls into a horrible pit of confusion at its climax and hopes the rush of swelling emotion will keep us from questioning the logistics of the situation. The climax sets up the possibility for two distinct resolutions and it chooses the more illogical one, which elicits a reaction closer to a “huh?” than an “aww.”
Even so, it will still be hard to shake off the emotion felt from all the events leading up to it, which may admittedly infuriate viewers further about the conclusion. But most likely, it will leave them with fond memories of the good times.
Reviewed by Tarun
