Pul-lip-deul

„Soju in einer Herbstnacht, das sieht so gut aus!“ Hong Sangsoo erforscht in seinen Filmen die Themen Reiswein-Rausch, soziale Scham und die Dynamik des Vorwurfs – mit serieller Lust an der tragikomischen Variation. Schauplatz von PUL-LIP-DEUL ist, wie so oft in Hongs Filmen, ein kleines Café, in dem tagsüber gerne mal Wagners „Lohengrin“-Vorspiel aus dem Lautsprecher zirpt. Der Reigen der leicht eskalierenden Begegnungen beginnt und endet mit einer emotional-instabilen Autorin, die den Gästen des Cafés Geschichten ablauscht. Eine schwarzweiße Fiktion, die wie ein Tagebuch anmutet. (Robert Weixlbaumer)

Almost always, Hong Sangsoo’s universe is organized the same way: Men and women who seduce each other (or, at least, want to) but are unable to understand each other; all of them are relatively well educated, because they belong to the world of arts (film, theater, or literature), and the preferred meeting point is always a bar and, therefore, the action is limited to drinking soju and having conversations. Novelty, this time, lies on the proliferation of couples unexpectedly added to the tale in order to discuss love-related subjects. Some of the times, these discussions have a tragic air to them; and, most of the times, they happen in a bar and with the music of classic Western composers in the score. The usage of the zoom to create a new frame without actually having a new shot and of lateral camera movements to expand, in a single register, the space of the scene are effective and elegant devices through which the director introduces new couples and associates them to other characters. The only lonely character is a female writer who, somehow, works as the film’s consciousness inasmuch as when she writes her thoughts these duplicate the events of the tale and suggest a possible reading of the totality of the film. (Roger Koza)