Comfort in Simplicity: Little Forest
Now that the weather has gotten colder and the holiday season is here, I have found myself enjoying simple, heartwarming films. Films in the likes of the Studio Ghibli wonders that many of us love, the type that warms up your soul and leaves you grinning the entire time—sparking a sense of happiness that can be obtained from watching something simple, yet so familiar. There’s something about romanticizing our lives, as simple as they may be. The simplicity of simply living, no matter how mundane it feels. When seen in film, not only do we catch glimpses of how precious our lives really are, but we also enjoy these moments of silence, of pure simplistic mundane tasks, such as cooking, inhaling, exhaling fresh air, and spending time with our loved ones. Recently, I watched Little Forest, a 2018 South Korean film about a young woman who returns to her childhood home in the Korean countryside after failing the teacher certificate exam and losing herself in the city of Seoul. I went into the film expecting a coming of age film about friendship and romance. I quickly realized that it was much more than that, or perhaps less, for the first ten minutes of the film demonstrated that this wasn’t going to be a conventional coming of age story. It still holds many of the elements of a coming of age story, however, the film focuses on the main characters emotions through memory and cooking. Its simplicity is what makes this film so wonderful.
The premise is simple. A young woman arrives in the countryside, to her childhood home—one that is filled with beautiful memories of her and her mother. However, things aren’t as perfect as they deem. The protagonist Hye-won (Kim Tae-ri), feels an instant disconnection with herself and her childhood home. When she was still a teenager, Hye-won’s mother left their home unexpectedly, leaving her to her own accords. The film then becomes an exploration of self through memory and isolation - memory that translates itself through the food Hye-won makes. All the recipes that she remembers her mother making, some her mother claimed original recipes, even if they are not, creating an illusion, not only of the food itself, but of her mother that is quickly shattered when she leaves. In many ways, Hye-won lives in a mirage of many illusions. The illusion and fantasy of living in Seoul, and leaving the countryside, the illusion of her relationships with other people, and the illusion of herself. This isn’t the only issue our protagonist faces. In fact, she seems to be running away from many things: her mother, her life and ambitions, her boyfriend, and herself. So, to distract herself Hye-won indulges herself in doing mundane and simple tasks like farming, cooking, and spending time with her two childhood friends, Jae-ha (Ryu Jun-yeol) and Eun-sook (Jin Ki-joo) - all young individuals who seek to fulfill dreams of their own and who have found their own path through their own accords as well, even if these paths are not exactly conventional to the modern individual.
Little Forest feels like a breath of fresh air. In a world that feels and is chaotic, this film stops time and takes time to appreciate all things in life. In a slow pace, all from the change in seasons, which the film does a wonderful job of showcasing through its breathtaking cinematography and the drastic change in colors, from the dream-like scenes of cold winters, to the fantasy-like scenes of spring and the blooming of the harvest. The film doesn't shy away from the very specific details of the wonders these changes bring, as well as showing the meticulous processes that come in patience and love of creating, whether it is the creation of a delicious meal, a sweet dessert or an alcoholic beverage. This is certainly a film that one must not watch if hungry. I was snacking throughout my entire watching experience, and it was difficult not to feel my mouth watering as I watched the preparation of classic Korean dishes and a few I had never heard of but am now eager to try out some day. This is one of the movie’s charms: an appreciation for Korean cuisine, and the process of cooking a warm meal for yourself or others. The relationship with food doesn’t restrain itself from its preparation and to its journey to the dinner table. Food is supposed to be filling and in this film, it is a representation of self fulfilment. At the beginning of the film, Hye-won finds herself starving, describing that food in Seoul just isn't the same. As she begins to indulge in life in the countryside, we see her enjoyment in the things she eats, a smile forming on her face everytime she looks at a finished meal.
This is not a film with much action. This is another one of its charms. The film focuses solely on the relationships between the characters, and their relationships with their surroundings. Not only does the film create intrigue by making us question why Hye-won’s mother left despite showing us flashbacks that demonstrate that their relationship was very healthy and that Hye-won’s childhood was pleasant, and filled with love, despite her father’s absence. However, the actual details of this story aren’t important, rather, the focus is directed towards Hye-won and her emotions and how she comes to terms with her past, her present and the uncertainties of her future. The feeling of wanting to run away from her problems is what keeps her in the countryside, where she spends her days farming and getting ready for the next season despite all the times she claims she is soon to head back to the city. This isn’t a conventional love story between two people, but a love story about the self and the way we live with ourselves, whether alone in isolation or in the company of others.
As she explores the palate of her childhood and reminisces all the times her mother cooked the meals she then cooks for herself and her friends, she begins to get to know her mother and herself a lot more. The movie reminds us that just because we grow up and live with our parents, it doesn’t mean that we know them completely. And in doing so, Hye-won begins to recognize that the little forest, her mother, metaphorically grew for herself and her daughter over the years in the comfort of their small home, isolated from city life. In creating a little forest for herself, we are reminded of how the comfort of simplicity can sometimes help us in realizing the things we truly want and how to trust the process in realizing our dreams. Just like one waits patiently for the bloom of the roots we plant in our gardens, we must also wait to see fruits of our labor in the real world.
