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Program Note

Some assumptions feel so self-evident that we rarely stop to question them. For example: “A Hong Sang-soo film is an interesting film.” For cinephiles who have always found his work compelling, they are works of quiet rapture—films in which one delights in the endless variations on a theme, and which, by the time you've surrendered to their rhythm, are already over.

But here's something worth considering: how might a cinephile who has no interest in Hong Sang-soo's films view them? This isn't a rhetorical setup to suggest that such a cinephile “cannot possibly exist.” There is no single rule for how one should love cinema. For some, his films might simply seem like the same thing over and over again. While for some, tracing the minute differences and repetitions between one film and the next may be both an intellectually thrilling experience and an exercise in sharpening one's critical instincts, for others, the films may appear indistinguishable. Against such a judgment, the ever-growing body of Hong's work might become, in itself, a kind of psychological barrier.

A Traveler’s Needs may not stand out as an especially unusual film in Hong Sang-soo's filmography. And yet, for those who have felt a kind of “disconnection” from his work, it could offer a gentle and inviting first step back into his cinematic world. As the synopsis notes, Iris, a woman from “France,” teaches “French” to Korean students in Korea—through “English.” But her teaching method isn't based on traditional grammar drills or memorizing phrases like “Where is the post office?” Instead, she draws out emotional responses from her students and translates those into French, which they then repeat aloud. In doing so, she encourages them to engage with the intangible energy of language itself.

Iris, a wanderer, teaches her native French to settled Koreans not in her mother tongue, but through a language that is not native to either of them. In turn, the Koreans learn French via English. A Traveler’s Needs explores the fractures caused by languages drifting and the sparks that arise from those fractures. Perhaps, through Iris—the drifting figure in A Traveler's Needs—Hong Sang-soo is extending a quiet invitation to those beyond the screen, asking them to share in the fleeting sparks of language. It’s quite a kind gesture. So for anyone who has felt a distance from Hong's world—anyone who has sensed a psychological break—it might be worth stepping back in. After all, the Diaspora Film Festival is a space that encourages exactly this kind of courage: the courage to come closer to one another. (PARK Jihan)​