Korean Wedding Chest is the kind of documentary that is almost impossible to writer about. It’s kind of like writing about modern dance, it sort of can’t be done. It needs to be experienced to really take it all in and enjoy. That said, I will do my level best to tell you about this unique, quiet and beautiful look at the a ritual of coupling that is, seemingly, as old as we are.
When I sat down in the theatre on Sunday afternoon, I think I thought I was going to see a documentary that chronicled how crazy the Korean wedding industry was – something akin to the North American one – in a “Wedding SOS” or “Rich Bride, Poor Bride” style documentary about the stresses of wedding planning, family interactions, decisions about details and, finally, culminating in “the day” every girl dreams about from the moment she’s old enough (or so we’re told). Instead I was presented with an observational, yet powerful look at the minute rituals of the wedding industry in Korea, gently blending the old and the new, the traditions of the old and the traditions of the new. The director, Ulrike Ottinger, takes a very much “old school” approach to this film, observing only, never engaging her subjects on camera. There is no narrative, rarely an explanation. In fact, little of the movie is subtitled, giving you a “fly on the wall” feeling of voyeurism.
With delight and humor we watch a bride and groom begin the marriage process with the item of the title, the Korean Wedding Chest, an old and cumbersome ritual item that is steeped in tradition and beauty. In this box is so much hope for the future and so much honour to the past. The audience watched with fascination the items that are added to the chest and listens intently to the explanation of each item as what it is and what its relevance is is explained in detail. From there we follow as a young man walks with the prepared chest to the home of his intended and continues the ritual in presenting the chest to her parents in a request for her hand in marriage. Filmed with such tenderness and stillness the audience feels privileged to have been able to witness this moment.
It is this stillness that I found to be the most engaging thing about this film, especially since I thought I was going to see a film about the hustle and bustle of the crazy wedding industry. My favorite part was the “passer-by” interludes in which you get to see a small snapshot of Korean life, sometimes with relevance to the subject of the film, sometimes not. It add a wholeness to the ritual we’re witnessing that completes the film beautifully.
Ottinger shows us some minute details of falling love and getting married in Korea that are beautiful and touching. Everything from the courtship to the wedding itself is explored here. Of note, and my personal favorite, is a fence where couple can go, write their name on a lock and lock it to a fence with hundreds of other couples in love. Showing us both the traditional and the new shines a light on the fact that we’re not really that different, people fall in love everywhere and participate in the beautiful, but often silly ritual everywhere.
Having no narration and little dialogue left me with the opportunity to ponder the movie in the context I wished. It jumpstarted my thoughts and took me to places I didn’t expect, leaving me to think about the old and new in my own life, if there is anything, and what it means to my life. Would I pass a ritual on to my children or let it finish with me? What is the meaning of tradition and ritual, especially in the fast and flashy lives that those in major metropolitan areas live? What an incredible film that can nude your thoughts in the direction, rather than take you there with flash and dazzle. I’m a big fan of documentaries with a thesis and I’m looking for the filmmaker in the movie just as much as I’m looking at the subject of the film. In this case, however, in a sea of documentaries at this festival that have definite theses, this was an unexpected and uncommon surprise.
In my opinion, the director put it best in her very own words, taken from her website:
“When I opened a Korean email in fall 2007 I didn’t imagine that I would soon be opening a well-stocked miracle box, the inspiring contents of which would become a film: THE KOREAN WEDDING CHEST. Even though (or especially because) this carefully packed, filled, and tied-up wooden chest was assembled according to the rules of an honored tradition, it offers a remarkable insight into and overview of modern Korean society. I was inspired to look more closely at the old and new rituals to determine what is old in the new and new in the old. A modern fairytale about the amazing phenomenon of new mega cities emerging everywhere and their contradictory societies caught in the balancing act. Bon voyage into the present!”
{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
I should have known right from the start that the filmmaker couldn’t deliver a meaningful film when she starts off with a narrated fable of her own. Why would a documentarian need to fabricate a fable about marriage? If you care a whit about the culture you are documenting wouldn’t you employ one from the culture you are observing? Far less artsy, I guess.
The severe camera “work” (entirely static) makes the film feel, at turns: staged, voyeuristic, superficial, calculating, and ultimately fetishistic. This filmmaker professes to examine old and new rituals, and she does, but by skimming along the surface and narrowly gazing at her subjects she holds them up as oddities and objects of ridicule. People in the theater laughed, but it just didn’t feel right to be laughing most of the time.
There is an utter lack of context and no understanding of the Korean culture displayed. The film is a disjointed and disengaged tourist’s travelogue at best. It’s highlight is a game of rock-paper-scissors between two girls at the wedding; the loser gets slapped in the face. The little girl wins and gently cuffs the bigger girl, then the bigger girl wins and smacks the little girl, making her head spin. Looking around at many of the Koreans in the audience after the film, it seemed like they had been smacked, not gently cuffed.
Wow C.M. Boyd, this is an interesting take on this film. I can definitely see some of your points – it wasn’t a standard documentary, but certainly she has her own feel. Your note that the camera work is fetishistic is actually my favorite part about this comment. I wouldn’t have come to that conclusion myself, but I can certainly see it. In the end I did enjoy it a great deal and it’s too bad that you didn’t – but these are certainly some very valid points and a genuinely awesome comment. Thanks for sharing!