Amateur Recommendation Hour: Microhabitat

Today’s recommendation is a film that for me was an exercise in art without expectations. I went into with none whatsoever, viewed on a whim, and as often is the case, I found myself coming around to root for it harder than many of my peers. It is as sentimental as it is a brutally honest imitation of the most selfless people whom expect absolutely nothing in return for their generosity and receiving just. All the while the fragile structures that keep their own life afloat begin to crumble and fall into disrepair. The living situation of her boyfriend, the price of cigarettes and alcohol, and the people in the band she left behind, her only source of genuine community.

Microhabitat, directed by Jeon Go-woon, her directorial debut no less, is an extremely poignant, emotionally complex work about a woman struggling to make ends meet, who simply wants to live life on her own terms, doing what she needs to in order to stay happy and fulfilled. Each respective story beat is conveyed through a sort of vignette. The preamble to each being a solitary shot of our main character, Mi-so, bundled in coat and hat, rolling luggage in tow, standing in front of the home of one of her ex-bandmates, the bandmates name and the instrument they play in text in the top corner of the screen.

A very well written lead in terms of tethering herself to the viewer, though it is debatable as to whether or not she truly has an arc and how that works (or doesn’t) within a film of this nature, she is nuanced and flawed in that not only do I sympathize with her situation, I can also see how unreasonable she is being. Complexity breeds believability in character traits and motivations. Humans are more interesting than anything a writer or team of writers could hope to construct, but it certainly wouldn’t seem too far outside of the realm of possibility that a person similar to our main character on a micro level could exist in the real world. She is uncompromising, not just in her best traits but also in her most base and materialistic ones too. She will do what she has to do and survive because she has to. And it is that inflexibility that feels very, truthful. A very honest and believable flaw that mutates into many other aspects of her life. In so many ways this film challenges the very idea that people have to adapt to the situations around them when the adaptations they would need to make are so minimal, but never having the idealistic and conceited idea that it is the whole world that must change to suit their whim. I do think that it ultimately earns its main character’s unchanging lifestyle, as it not only supports its thematic intentions, it is done so in a way that feels raw, organic, and true to life. Each person whose life she intrudes upon has their own unique problems and the value that she is able to bring into their spaces is fleeting, once she is gone they will have to deal with the reality of their situations, but the respite she gives, even momentarily, might give them a chance for better, to believe and refocus their efforts, while Mi-so in a cruel ironic twist, is unable to do so for herself.

The cinematography is beautifully muted and simple in the smartest of ways in keeping with the small scale feel of the overall film, while there are some tonal inconsistencies they never intrude on the experience, and the cast, headed by and in particular ESOM, who plays our inscrutable main character Mi-so delivers remarkable performances across the board. The color palettes guiding each particular scene lend an emotional verve and tone that feels natural and unforced. A desaturated and grey day is the arbiter of bad news, a colorful city street on a mundane day adds life and hope to a strict and uncaring undertone, the warm lighting and the embrace of a temporary shelter, these are small but worthwhile additions to the tone of the entire film, not merely the individual scenes in motion. It’s ability to keep a steady hand on the subject matter of the film while also not making it feel overly bleak or melodramatic is an impressive feat when dealing with themes of homelessness, isolation, and staying true to oneself amidst all the chaos surrounding ones life and their ability to stay calm within those situations. It never considers itself to be a definitive “guide” but rather conveys a side to life that we often prefer to forget, of the people who mean no harm but are often lambasted by society as “lazy” or “uncompromising” when they really aren’t asking for as much as we’re making out.

My interpretations of this film are two fold. It is about the conflicting emotions humans have between the general discontent we feel towards society, how it jades us and tries to take the best of us and the things that matter to us away at seemingly every turn, while still clinging onto the belief that humankind is capable of so much good and wanting to see the best in as many as we possibly can. The value of simple lives allows us to retain our best qualities. Struggles must be endured whether you pick inner happiness or outward success. And the cold truth that sometimes the most kind and caring people in the world, as I stated in the opening lines, don’t receive any generosity in return for their actions. Ultimately it may come down to us making the best choices for ourselves, whether we want to make those choices or not.

It absolutely has its flaws and it will not be everyone’s cup of tea as there is no universal cup of cinematic tea out there that has the “one blend satisfies all” trick up its sleeve. It has the charm and authenticity in droves to cover up its imperfections, and that to me is what has stuck in my mind above all else. It was created with genuine soul and endeavor. And it is the imperfect but honest and sentimental art that speaks the loudest and most precious. We often forget that value of sentimentality and sincerity. Always feeling our most honest, raw, and personal sides of ourselves always NEED a quip or a witty remark on the end of it because unless we are “entertaining” when we are sad, we have no value. It is an unfortunate reality of the world that we are living in as of writing this piece. You don’t always have to go in for the joke, sometimes it is the softness that means more in that moment than the laughter. As an analog, I think Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man trilogy is a wonderful example of just that and the value of sincerity in art.

My love of independent Korean cinema is well documented. It might be the main driver of my writing in general. Microhabitat is a work that is far greater than the sum of its parts. It is a solemn sanctuary. And I hope that you are able to find the time and energy to experience it should you give it the chance I believe it deserves.