Director Jeong Ji-young, who has told stories about the pains of the era, in his new film "My Name Is" stages a shamanistic exorcism for the victims of the Jeju April 3rd incident whose names still have not been found, led by a powerful performance from actor Yeom Hye-ran.
The film My Name Is (director Jeong Ji-young, produced by Lets Film/Aura Pictures, co-produced by M eighty-three·Viva Film, distributed by CJ CGV·Wide Release) is a work that modernly unpacks the pain and consolation of the Jeju April 3rd incident through the two-generation story of 18-year-old son Yeong-ok (Shin Woo-bin), who wants to erase his unrefined name, and his mother Jeong-sun (Yeom Hye-ran), who raises a son the age of a grandson. Yeom Hye-ran, who was praised for her role as Gwang-rae the Jeju haenyeo in the Netflix series When Life Gives You Tangerines, becomes another Jeju mother and delivers the era's pain with a passionate performance.
In particular, the film is the new work of director Jeong Ji-young, who has never hesitated to tell historical tragedies. Having shed light on Korea's modern historical events in numerous works such as Southern Army and Namyeong-dong 1985, director Jeong Ji-young in My Name Is handles the Jeju April 3rd incident without burden and honors the spirits of the victims.
The story unfolds in two framed narratives from the perspectives of Jeong-sun and Yeong-ok in 1998, when the Jeju April 3rd incident was pardoned. Jeong-sun, who faints at the mere sight of leaves fluttering in the wind every spring and finds it difficult even to go out, seeks to recover lost memories to treat her symptoms. And Yeong-ok, who had lived unruffled under his aging mother's care, undergoes changes after meeting transfer student Gyeong-tae (Park Ji-bin) from Seoul, with past and present interweaving and connecting organically.
That process is by no means smooth. Jeong-sun searches spaces within the fragments of memory to retrieve lost time and recover, tracing back the axis of time that she cannot tell if it is memory or an afterimage. The pain is so severe that she cannot drive properly without sunglasses and faints repeatedly, yet Jeong-sun's will shows no sign of stopping.
Meanwhile, Yeong-ok seems gradually overwhelmed by Gyeong-tae's presence, which was striking from his first appearance. Even the unrefined name she always wanted to change is easily replaced and called out with one word from Gyeong-tae. At the same time, she drifts away from Min-su (Choi Jun-woo), a childhood friend who knew details about her mother's illness. Gyeong-tae, who has strong charisma but is somehow delinquent and does not hesitate to use violence among friends, and Min-su, a former class president and model student, are boys who can hardly coexist. In between, Yeong-ok, who was Min-su's friend and then part of Gyeong-tae's group, is tossed about by passionate adolescent emotions.
The sequence of events is accompanied by pain and violence. As Jeong-sun regains her memories, she faces the deaths of her child, her husband, her family, and her friends—an ongoing series of deaths. The memories tangled with tears and pain are afterimages of state violence that can never be glorified as nostalgia. The reason she suffered particularly in the spring, when April 3 arrives, was hidden in Jeong-sun's lost memories.
Yeong-ok finally does not lose the name she long wanted to change while by her mother's side as her mother recovers her memory. Above all, she stays with Min-su until the end and resists the school violence instigated by Gyeong-tae. The stories of Jeong-sun, who recovers wounds as she retrieves memories buried by state violence, and Yeong-ok, who regains friendship despite external violence brought by a transfer student, mirror each other.
At the same time, it shows one way we can attempt to heal the Jeju April 3rd incident. Even though she is an old mother who collapses every spring, the warm relationship between Jeong-sun and Yeong-ok, and the way Yeong-ok and Min-su, who once fought to the point of throwing punches, ultimately restore their friendship—meeting and confronting together. The method Jeong Ji-young proposes is solidarity: not burying wounds but facing them together.
Of course, certain solemnity that inevitably accompanies dealing with historical events, or the heavy atmosphere that is not entirely enjoyable, can appear as obstacles for My Name Is as a commercial feature film. But we should not forget that there were already 9,778 citizen viewers who contributed to the fundraising to make this film. At the very least, these roughly 10,000 people willingly agreed to a film about the Jeju April 3rd incident and gave their time and money.
Director Jeong Ji-young included their names in the ending credits of My Name Is as a dedication. Moreover, the actors led by Yeom Hye-ran and the film staff headed by director Jeong Ji-young did not spare their sacrifices. Sometimes the making of a film itself becomes history. Even if theaters and the film industry are in a slump, such cinematic challenges continue.
Coincidentally, the president recently abolished the civil and criminal statute of limitations for state violence in Jeju. It is a legal response at the memorial ceremony for the Jeju April 3rd incident victims, marking its 78th anniversary this year. Before parsing various interpretations and interests, I would recommend the exorcism that My Name Is offers for the victims who left without even a grave. It has value for record and reconciliation beyond any political or cinematic rhetoric.
Running time 113 minutes, opens on April 3, twelve days later.
[photo] Provided by Lets Film, Aura Pictures.
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