시 Poetry 2010

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mija (veteran actress Yun Jung-hee) is a beautiful woman in her sixties who moves gracefully through life, contemplating a trivial daily routine that is ill-suited to her refined persona. With elegance and a dash of eccentricity, Mija takes care of her ungrateful grandson Wook (Lee David) and makes a living by cleaning house for an elderly man who, though paralyzed by a stroke, still responds to her charm with bouts of drug-induced arousal.

 

On a whim, Mija enrolls in a poetry class at the local cultural centre and begins a personal quest to find the perfect words to describe her feelings. However, she’s plagued by the onset of Alzheimer’s disease, and struggles with new vocabulary and the challenges of the creative process. When her world is turned upside down by the discovery of a monstrous crime, it is Mija’s unique and touching poetry that allows her to defy the weight of shame and distance herself from a painful proximity to violence.

 

(Adapted from text provided by the Toronto International Film Festival)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SPECIAL : 영화 속의 詩

그리운 부석사

사랑하다가 죽어버려라
오죽하면 비로자나불이 손가락에 매달려 앉아 있겠느냐
기다리다가 죽어버려라
오죽하면 아미타불이 모가지를 베어서 베개로 삼겠느냐
새벽이 지나도록
마지(摩旨)를 올리는 쇠 종 소리는 울리지 않는데
나는 부석사 당간지주 앞에 평생을 앉아
그대에게 밥 한 그릇 올리지 못하고
눈물 속에 절하나 지었다 부수네
하늘 나는 돌 위에 절하나 짓네

- 정호승 「사랑하다가 죽어버려라」 창작과 비평사, 1997

너에게 묻는다

연탄재 함부로 발로 차지 마라
너는
누구에게 한 번이라도 뜨거운 사람이었느냐

- 안도현 「외롭고 높고 쓸쓸한」 문학동네, 1994

시를 쓴다는 것

시를 쓴다는 것은
동지섣달 이른 새벽
관절이 부어 오른 손으로
하얀 쌀 씻어 내리시던
엄마 기억하는 일이다
소한의 얼음 두께 녹이며
군불 지피시던
아버지 손등의 굵은 힘줄 기억해내는 일이다

시를 쓴다는 것은
깊은 밤 잠 깨어 홀로임에 울어보는
무너져 가는 마음의 기둥
꼿꼿이 세우려
참하고 단단한 주춧돌 하나 만드는 일이다
허허한 창 모서리
혼신의 힘으로 버틴
밤새워 흔들리는 그 것, 잠재우는 일이다

시를 쓴다는 것은
퍼내고 퍼내어도
자꾸만 차 오르는 이끼 낀 물
아낌없이 비워내는 일이다
무성한 나뭇가지를 지나
그 것, 그 쬐끄만한
물푸레 나뭇잎 만지는
여백의 숲 하나 만드는 일이다

-조영혜

십일월

당신의 등에선
늘 쓰르라미 소리가 나네

당신과 입술을 나누는 가을 내내
쓰르라미 날개를 부비며 살고 있네
귀뚤귀뚤 나도 울고 싶어지게
쓰르람쓰르람
눈부비며 살고 있네
이제껏 붉던 입술은
낡은 콘크리트 벽안의
박제 된 낙엽처럼
바시시바시시 떨고 있네
지난 여름 손톱에 핀 봉선화 져 가도록
당신의 등에서 자꾸 쓰르라미가 울고
귀뚤귀뚤 나도 따라 먹먹해져서
당신과 포개어 가만히 누워 보고 싶네

-조영혜

장미 가시의 이유

날 훔치려 말아요
내 안의 가시
온 몸 소름으로 돋는 날
더딘 맥으로 밀어내는 저 대궁의 우울
자결을 꿈꾸는 검붉은 미소 보아요
내민 손 거두어 주세요
수레바퀴는 구르기만 하던 걸요

어여쁘단 말로
꺾으려 하지 말아요
아프단 말 대신 자꾸 키워지는 가시
붉은 입술을 지켜야 하는 필사의 무기
소리 없는 눈물
그건, 무던히도 견디어 준 인내의 꽃
모르나요
겹겹의 붉은 물결이 잠시 흔들리는 것은
단지 내 안의 오월 탓이란 걸
이젠 정말
비가와도 가지려 하지 말아요
수레바퀴는 그냥 구르기만 해요

-조영혜

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ABOUT THE WRITER/DIRECTOR

Lee Chang-dong was born in Daegu, South Korea, and studied Korean literature at Kyungbuk University. He began his career as a high school teacher and novelist before cowriting and working as an assistant director on Park Swang-su’s To the Starry Island (1993) and writing Park’s A Single Spark (1995). From 2002 to 2004, he served as South Korea’s Minister of Culture and Tourism, and he currently teaches directing and screenwriting at the Korean National University of the Arts. His other feature films areGreen Fish (1996), Peppermint Candy (2000), Oasis (2002) (winner of the Best Director and Best New Actress awards at the Venice International Film Festival) and Secret Sunshine (2007) (winner of the Best Actress award at the Cannes International Film Festival).

DIRECTOR’S STATEMENT

These are times when poetry is dying away. Some lament such loss and others claim, “Poetry deserves to die.” Regardless, people continue to read and write poetry.

 

What does it mean then to be writing poetry when prospects of

an ongoing future seem dismal? This is a question I want to pose

to the public.

 

But in fact, it is a question I pose to myself as a filmmaker: What does it mean to be making films at times when films are dying away?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The New York Times
– Manohla Dargis

[T]he South Korean filmmaker Lee Changdong uses reserve to tremendous effect. Mr. Lee’s latest, Poetry, which is also in competition, centers on Mija (Yoon Jung-hee), a grandmother raising her only grandchild, a teenage boy, in a small city. At first, this seemingly simple story concentrates on Mija’s daily habits, her visits to her doctor, her relations with her grandson, her poignant vanity. one day she decides to take a poetry writing course, a decision that, as the tale takes a violent turn, becomes our entry into a woman who’s far richer than her fussy habits and humble words suggest. With an understated visual style and perfectly paced narrative, Mr. Lee has created a portrait of a woman who has, by the end, become an extraordinary vision of human empathy.

 

 

 

 

Boston Globe
– Wesley Morris

This is a warm, deftly made film that uses the humor and tenderness in Yoon 's performance to dramatize the artistic and emotional depths we don't know we have. Lee, making his first film since 2007's Secret Sunshine, is astoundingly skilled at maintaining a perfect tone. This could have veered into a comic thriller, like Boon Joon-ho's Mother, or an all-out melodrama. But Lee modulates his touch just enough so that the film's bizarre moral and sexual turns don't derail what is essentially a life-size movie about loss and self-discovery. Afterwards, I ran into a friend outside a sandwich shop who had just left the Palais, and we did something I hadn't ever done here. We sat at a table outside and cried in the rain.

 

 

 

Chicago Tribune
– Michael Phillips

Of the competition titles I saw prior to before the weekend, among my favorites was Poetry, by Lee Chang-dong, whose earlier Cannes entry, Secret Sunshine, remains one of the great examinations of religious belief in contemporary cinema. The South Korean writer-director's protagonist is exceptionally rich: a 60ish grandmother coping with financial difficulties and the early stages of Alzheimer's. Her grandson, whom she supports, commits a terrible crime with a group of other teen-aged boys, resulting in the death of a female student. The crime is to be swept under the carpet by local school authorities. How the protagonist's actions affect this plan, and how her enrollment in a poetry appreciation class provides the story with its through-line, occasions one of the heartening glories of the filmgoing year.

 

 

 

 

ArtForum
– Melissa Anderson

Lyrical compositions serve more serious purposes in Lee Chang-dong’s Competition entry, Poetry. Lee, last in contention for the Palme d’Or with 2007’s Secret Sunshine (for which Jeon Do-yeon took home the Best Actress prize), creates another powerful narrative about a woman raising a child on her own. Mija (Yoon Jeong-hee), a proper, sixtyish home aide in the early stages of dementia, lives with her sullen adolescent grandson, whose mother is looking for work in Pusan. Enrolling in a poetry class, Mija anxiously awaits inspiration from the muses—which arrives the moment she decides her charge must finally suffer the consequences of a heinous act he has committed. Perfectly paced and performed, Poetry stands out as both a quietly scathing condemnation of male violence (and the craven attempts to cover it up) and an ode to the strength—and moral compass—of senescent women.

 

 

 

 

Time Out (London)
– Geoff Andrew

Lee’s movie counterpoints Mija’s curiosity, courage and generosity with the injustice, cruelty and complexity of the world she lives in, and does so to witty, affecting and very intelligent effect. Wisely, he steers clear of sentimentality – Mija is too firm and feisty a character to allow for that – and in this regard he is admirably served by a wonderful lead performance by Yun Junghee as Mija; sadly, it’s hard to imagine a British film focussing on such an elderly protagonist, let alone carrying it off so persuasively. But Lee gets things gloriously right, and Poetry is undoubtedly one of the best films in this year’s official competition.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

아네스의 노래 - 양미자

그곳은 어떤가요 얼마나 적막하나요

저녁이면 여전히 노을이 지고

숲으로 가는 새들의 노래소리 들리나요

차마 부치지 못한 편지 당신이 받아볼 수 있나요

하지 못한 고백 전할 수 있나요

시간은 흐르고 장미는 시들까요

이제 작별을 할 시간

머물고 가는 바람처럼 그림자처럼

오지 않던 약속도 끝내 비밀이었던 사랑도

서러운 내 발목에 입 맞추는 풀잎 하나

나를 따라온 작은 발자국에게도

작별을 할 시간

이제 어둠이 오면 다시 촛불이 켜질까요

나는 기도합니다

아무도 눈물은 흘리지 않기를

내가 얼마나 간절히 사랑했는지 당신이 알아주기를

여름 한낮의 그 오랜 기다림

아버지의 얼굴같은 오래된 골목

수줍어 돌아앉은 외로운 들국화까지도 내가 얼마나 사랑했는지

당신의 작은 노래소리에 얼마나 가슴 뛰었는지

나는 당신을 축복합니다

검은 강물을 건너기 전에 내 영혼의 마지막 숨을 다해

나는 꿈꾸기 시작합니다

어느 햇빛 맑은 아침 깨어나 부신 눈으로

머리맡에서 선 당신을 만날 수 있기를

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

http://www.kino.com/poetry/ 

http://trailers.apple.com/trailers/independent/poetry/ 

http://www.cine21.com/Movies/Mov_Movie/movie_detail.php?s=note&id=26575

http://www.theepochtimes.com/n2/content/view/51036/

http://www.salon.com/entertainment/movies/andrew_ohehir/2011/02/11/poetry