More than once, the protagonists in Mimang wonder where they are and where they’re going—it is a concrete, geographical question born from walking around the streets of Seoul, but as the film progresses, that urban journey also proves to be an existential one. We accompany the characters in some stretches of their path—many years separate each of the episodes that make up the film, and that distance reveals changes through what remains. This is not a film about earthquakes, but about small transformations, and the marks of time can be seen not only in the actors’ bodies, but also in that other omnipresent protagonist that is Seoul, whose vitality invades every shot. Like others before him (it’s inevitable to think about Truffaut or Linklater), here, Kim Taeyang reminds us that cinema is the best time machine that has been invented so far.
源自：https://www.mardelplatafilmfest.com/38/en/pelicula/mimang
To Elena, existence is an effort—not only does she struggle against her body affected by Parkinson’s, but her daughter has just shown up dead and only she finds the suicide hypothesis implausible. Elena is not a good victim, and doesn’t show signs of having been a selfless mother. She is vulnerable, but also overcome by rage and sorrow, and that stubbornness seems to render her invincible, against all odds. But investigating the reasons for her daughter’s death soon becomes a trip through memory, and, as we’ve known since the time of Greek tragedies, every investigation is, deep down, an investigation about oneself. Elena Knows submerges us in the physical and mental experience of its protagonist and, at the same time, invites us to ask ourselves uncomfortable questions about aging, the complexity of mother-daughter bonds and the weight of those mandates women drag the same way Elena drags her feet.
源自：https://www.mardelplatafilmfest.com/38/en/pelicula/elena-sabe