Screening Room

In her class at the cultural center,Mija (Yun Jung-Hee) is told by her teacher that everyone has poetryinside his or her heart. 

Shes not sure she believes it, though. 

A 66-year-old South Korean trying toraise her surly 16-year-old grandson, Wook, while toiling as a maid fora wealthy stroke victim, Mija wants very badly to be a poet, but shesfrustrated by how difficult it is to find that elusive inspiration.

“Where should I go?” she asks theinstructor, as if he could give her a map to the proper place. Mijasmission is the driving force in director Lee Chang-Dongs ofteneloquent “Poetry,” a film that opens and closes with images of aburbling river, a metaphor for life itself, which frequently movesfaster than we think and takes us, sometimes against our will, intosituations we wish we didnt have to face.

Considering “Poetry” involves ahorrifying crime, sexual frustration and the struggle to scrapetogether 5 million won (approximately $40,000) to pay off an unexpecteddebt, this is an astonishingly quiet, even meditative story. 

There is no musical score, only thenoises of the bustling little urban center where Mija and Wook live andthe more soothing sounds of the countryside, where Mija begins torealize her creative potential. 

Lee has a tendency to dwell on scenes with the intensely analytical eye of a filmmaker like Jean-Luc Godard. 

Sometimes this technique pays off,yielding riveting details and bringing unexpected complexities to thesurface (most notably in a stunner of a sequence involving Mija and heremployer). There are also times when a bit of judicious editing wouldhave been a relief; the movie is at least 20 minutes too long.

Much of the poetry heard during thelengthy readings Mija attends has apparently lost some of its grace intranslation, but Yuns yearning expressions and complete captivation asshe listens — she seems to be locking away every word for futurereference — is more than enough to convince us how much the workaffects her. Yun, a legendary South Korean star who came out ofretirement to make this film, marvelously communicates Mijasall-consuming desire to learn and her nearly paralyzing self-doubt,which constantly threatens to hold her back.

Shes also astonishingly fine in hersilent but unmistakably offended reactions to the male-dominatedculture shes locked into. Whether its the mouthy Wook bossing heraround, or a group of fathers that treats her like a servant instead ofan equal, Mija always seems to be running up against men who want towrite her off as a daffy, distracted old eccentric in fussy,pastel-saturated outfits. Mija is far stronger and wiser than theysuspect, although she keeps her power to herself, perhaps knowing theywont understand or appreciate it anyhow.

No viewer will fail to realize that Mijais something special, though. Even when “Poetry” rambles, Yuns superbperformance commands — and rewards — your attention.

‘Poetry’

East Lansing Film Society

7:30 p.m. tonight and

Thursday, Oct. 6, Hannah Community Center, 819 Abbot Road, East Lansing; 7  and 9 p.m. Friday, Oct. 7 and Saturday, Oct. 8; 2 p.m. Sunday, Oct. 9, Wells Hall, Michigan State University

$7 adults; $5 seniors; $3 students

(517) 980-5802

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