NR | 1h 58m | Drama, Fantasy | 2017
I’ve seen my fair share of romantic films in my day, many of them the so-called “chick flicks” that seem designed to wring every last tear from your soul. When it comes to emotional impact, the South Korean films seem to have a special power over the tear ducts (not that they make me cry, of course, no way).
Grief and Hope
From the start, “One Day” primes viewers’ tear ducts, when Kang-soo (Kim Nam-gil) enters the scene, a man utterly consumed by sorrow. His life is a grim routine of smoke-filled bars, mind-numbing alcohol, and an overwhelming sense of hopelessness after losing his wife, Seon-hwa (Lim Hwa-young).
His work as an insurance adjuster is a constant struggle, made even worse by some shady business deals. Even his mother’s homemade kimchi can’t break him out of his spiral. It’s a bleak existence, and his apathy is palpable. Then things take a curious turn.
Kang-soo is tasked with assessing the insurance claim of Mi-so (Chun Woo-hee), a young woman in a coma after a car accident. In her hospital room, he sees her lying motionless and inspects some of her belongings. Later, after going on a drunken solo bar crawl, he returns to the hospital to return an item he’d mistakenly taken from her room. He finds himself talking to her while sitting on the floor by her bedside.
What begins as a drunken monologue about his own suffering turns into something far more unexpected. Mi-so’s spirit appears, able to speak to him, but invisible to everyone else. At first, Kang-soo is terrified, wanting nothing more than to walk away from the bizarre situation. But Mi-so’s innocent requests to experience the world again slowly pull him back into life.
A Gradual Progression
This drama isn’t just about grief, it’s about the fragile hope that lingers even in life’s darkest corners. Kang-soo’s connection with Mi-so forces him to confront his pain in ways he never expected. While the film never indulges in easy resolutions, it suggests that even the smallest moments of warmth can hold meaning.Yoon-ki Lee crafts a film that’s both thought-provoking and deeply affecting. The filmmaker uses a combination of heartfelt drama, a relatable narrative, and a dash of humor thrown in here and there. The actors’ performances are restrained but incandescent, particularly Kim Nam-gil’s portrayal of a man who is initially just trying to endure his grief, but then finds hope in unexpected places.
Though Mi-so’s body lies in the hospital, her spirit is caught in an emotional tug-of-war between returning to her life or embracing the peace of departure. Her interactions with Kang-soo become both a source of comfort and challenge, urging him to reconsider the way he’s been living. The contrast between Mi-so’s joyful curiosity and Kang-soo’s broken soul creates a delicate dance, one that’s more about mutual healing than romance; these are two people who simply care deeply for one another.
What really transcends the usual genre tropes here is the film’s careful visual storytelling. The cinematography isn’t flashy, but rather subtly crafted to reflect the characters’ emotional states. The camera lingers on moments of despair. We see the debris of Kang-soo’s self-destructive habits—alcohol bottles, cigarette butts, and general messiness—all carefully arranged as though the visual itself is emblematic of his internal decay.
The film’s pacing is admittedly slow, but it’s that very pace that lets us more fully take in the story’s more meaningful aspects. This isn’t just a story about grief, it’s an examination of the slow process of accepting loss and about the unexpected ways we begin to find joy again.
“One Day” is indeed a certified “weepy” and will probably coax forth a tear or 10. But it’s also a genuine film about the small, fleeting moments of connection that help us rediscover the beauty of life. The bond between Kang-soo and Mi-so isn’t your usual love story; it’s a subtle journey of two souls helping each other heal.
In the end, the film asks us to consider (or reconsider) how we live with the aftermath of loss, and whether it’s possible to open our eyes to the world again, not as it was, but with a newfound sense of appreciation for the little things that make life worth living in the first place.
