In this blog post, I’ll explore why the everyday romance and multidimensional characters in ‘Spring Days Are Gone’ resonate so deeply with audiences.
Introduction
What kind of movie genres do I actually like? Some of my favorite films fall into the fantasy genre, while others are queer films. Perhaps because I haven’t seen or experienced enough yet, I’ve found it difficult to pinpoint a specific genre I prefer.
However, the diverse range of films I enjoy all share a common foundation: “love.” I’ve come to realize that I love movies that explore “love,” even if they do so in different ways. Many people say that romantic films are all pretty much the same, and it’s often easy to predict what will happen next while watching them. But despite this, why do we watch romantic films? When watching a romantic film that seems unremarkable, what is it that allows us to empathize and become emotionally invested in the characters?
Why did I choose ‘Spring Days Are Gone’ out of the countless romantic films available? The reason is simple: I was curious. While watching ‘Spring Days Are Gone’, I felt something quite different from what I usually experience when watching romantic films. But I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was. Through this essay, I want to explore and understand that distinct feeling I couldn’t clearly identify at the time.
Main Thesis
While watching ‘Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter… and Spring’, I found the “romance in everyday life” to be its greatest appeal. Everything—from the film’s setting to the characters’ dialogue and actions—felt authentic, not staged for show. It was a romantic film that didn’t feel like I was hearing someone else’s love story, but rather one that presented elements that could easily become my own story.
This leads to my first point: What exactly does the story of love in everyday life, as portrayed in the film, convey to us? What is it within that story that makes us empathize with it?
As I reflected on the film again, Lee Young-ae’s line, “Would you like some ramen?” came to mind. While recalling this line may be highly subjective, the second point I found in it is that criticism is not entirely subjective. In typical romantic films, we see stories tailored to the genre and stereotypical characters that fit those stories. Why do stereotypical genres feature only stereotypical characters?
Of course, this doesn’t mean stereotypical characters lack appeal. Nor does it mean the genre itself is problematic because of them. Nevertheless, what kind of appeal does a three-dimensional character bring when placed within a stereotypical genre?
I will analyze the film ‘Spring Days Are Gone’ from a genre perspective, exploring how multidimensional characters influence the genre.
Proving the Thesis
What Everyday Love Stories Convey to Us and the Emotions Within Them
Romantic films often rely on dramatic events or a traditional narrative structure with a clear beginning, middle, and end. As a result, they frequently invoke concepts like chance or fate and resort to extreme expressions. Ideals like “love that lasts until death” often become fantasies that everyone dreams of. However, the love we experience in our daily lives is bound to be different from what we see in books or movies.
The film ‘Spring Days Are Gone’ avoids excessive dialogue. By capturing the characters’ actions, emotions, and small moments of daily life on camera, it presents a love story drawn from our own lives—not one that relies solely on words.
In today’s world, which tends to focus only on the extraordinary, the ordinary daily life depicted in this film feels all the more special and precious. Scenes such as walking with a wobbly gait, sitting at the dining table drinking, and neighborhood women gathering to play Go-Stop are scattered throughout the film, offering a unique kind of joy.
While showcasing these ordinary moments, the characters in the film also reveal their honesty without resorting to exaggeration. One of the scenes that resonated most with me while watching the film was when Sang-woo (Yoo Ji-tae), waiting for a call from Eun-soo (Lee Young-ae), changed his phone’s ringtone several times and shook the phone by its cord. I found myself thinking, “Oh, I used to do that too,” which made me feel empathy for Sang-woo and allowed me to become even more immersed in the story.
In the film, the sounds of nature are used to express the progression of Eun-soo and Sang-woo’s love. The sound of the wind through the bamboo grove, the sound of snow falling at dawn amidst the scenery of a mountain temple, the sound of water flowing through an icy valley, the sound of the ocean, Eun-soo’s humming, and even Sang-woo’s enigmatic smile seen in the final scene in the barley field—these sounds of nature, which are easily overlooked in daily life, are transformed into the voice of the heart and resonate like a journey of love.
The sound of the wind through the bamboo grove signifies Sang-woo’s heart being stirred by Eun-soo; the sound of snow falling at dawn signifies that love has found its way into Sang-woo’s heart; the sound of water flowing through the valley signifies Sang-woo’s growing attraction to Eun-soo; and the sound of the ocean signifies the conflict between Eun-soo and Sang-woo. The sight of Sang-woo wearing a faint, almost imperceptible smile as he listens to Eun-soo’s humming in the barley field shows how a young boy matures through the process of love.
Furthermore, “sound” is what these characters have in common despite their differences, and it also defines love itself. Early in the film, the grandmother says that whenever something depressing or sad happened, she soothed her heart with the sound of the wind through the bamboo grove. People are exposed to many sounds, but often let them pass by without realizing whether they offer comfort. Love is no different. If you don’t look around you, you cannot hear love, and if you don’t listen closely to the other person’s voice, you will inevitably let it slip away.
Watching the film, there are moments when you find yourself craving ramen. There are several scenes where Eun-soo and Sang-woo eat ramen, but this isn’t merely a simple everyday prop. Kimchi is a dish that becomes more flavorful the longer it’s aged, while ramen is a convenient, disposable meal. If Eun-soo thought of Sang-woo to soothe her lonely heart, Sang-woo might have wanted a woman like kimchi—one who reveals her true flavor as time goes by.
Sang-woo’s reaction—snapping, “Do I look like ramen to you?”—vividly reveals the differing values and views on love between the two. The scene where Eun-soo flatly replies to Sang-woo’s confession, “I can’t make kimchi,” illustrates the same point.
In this way, the film finds meaning in the small details of daily life and, through the passage of time as that meaning fades, prompts us to reflect on the value of the process over the moment itself. This is why the audience empathizes and becomes fully immersed.
When three-dimensional characters are placed within a formulaic genre
The film ‘Spring Days Are Gone’ can be seen as a movie in which the female lead’s character truly comes alive. What makes this character feel so vivid? While watching the film, I sometimes got the sense that the traditional gender roles between men and women were reversed. The reason for this becomes clear when we examine the protagonists’ first encounter.
Sang-woo is a sound engineer, and Eun-soo is an announcer and producer at a local broadcast station. In the scene where Eun-soo first appears in the Gangneung Station waiting room, she is sitting on a bench, dozing off with a red scarf tightly wrapped around her entire face. Sang-woo tries to wake her up but doesn’t quite have the courage to approach her directly. When Eun-soo wakes up, she confidently says to Sang-woo, “You’re a little late, aren’t you?”
In a typical romantic drama, this would have been a scene where Eun-soo, exhausted from waiting for Sang-woo, dozes off and feels embarrassed, while Sang-woo looks on fondly at her. However, Eun-soo in this film is neither demure nor submissive.
There’s a scene in the film where Eun-soo asks Sang-woo and a music critic the exact same question. Sitting on a chair in front of the recording studio, Eun-soo asks Sang-woo how to use a fire extinguisher, and Sang-woo just smiles without saying a word. Eun-soo recites the instructions without looking at the manual. Some time later, Eun-soo asks the music critic the same question, but he deflects the conversation and offers her a beer.
Eun-soo’s question about the fire extinguisher wasn’t just a way to show off. It was Eun-soo’s way of alluding to those lonely days when she sat alone in the empty broadcasting station hallway, drinking coffee from a vending machine. However, Sang-woo couldn’t even begin to guess at her feelings, and the music critic changed the subject with a different answer.
Rather than revealing Eun-soo’s character directly through dialogue, the film shows how Eun-soo views Sang-woo—and what kind of person Sang-woo is to her—through the reactions she elicits by asking the same question to both men. Conversely, Sang-woo is still too young and naive to fully understand Eun-soo. He comes across as a young boy who longs for love but lacks the ability to form a relationship.
Even after learning that Eun-soo is keeping her distance from him and dating the music critic, Sang-woo resorts to timid actions, such as hiding in a corner store in front of the broadcasting station to watch her or scratching her new car with a coin. Though he lacks the ability to actively resolve the situation, he expresses his feelings, however passively.
His lies in the recording studio and his dash from Seoul to Gangneung in a taxi at dawn to be with Eun-soo portray a man defeated by love. However, after his grandmother’s death, Sang-woo lets go of his lingering feelings for Eun-soo and accepts the fact that love changes. In the final scene, Sang-woo records a sound on his own, and as he listens to the recording of his time with Eun-soo, he stands alone in a field, smiling happily.
The scene where Sang-woo turns his back as they part ways on a street lined with cherry blossoms leaves a deeper impression because it doesn’t clearly reveal whether his emotions are positive or negative. For Sang-woo, who has never truly experienced love, the fact that love changes is a difficult truth to accept.
Just as Sang-woo’s grandmother waited for his grandfather in his youth, we all have a desire to hold on to beautiful memories. The film tells the story of things that constantly change yet remain true to their essence. Love, too, is not eternal and does change, but that change does not destroy the essence of love.
In Conclusion
We are prompted to ask again what the story of love in everyday life, as portrayed in the film ‘Spring Days Are Gone’, conveys to us, and what it is within it that allows us to relate to it. We live our daily lives, and within those routines, we find, feel, and experience love. That is why, no matter what exists within it, we can relate to it.
When the element of “everyday life” and multidimensional characters are added to the formulaic genre of romance, the film comes alive. This film conveyed emotions honestly through dialogue and actions that suited the characters, which is why it resonated so deeply with audiences.
There are still many romantic films in the world, and many more will be made in the future. Even if some say love stories are cliché, there is still something that moves our hearts. I’ll conclude this piece while waiting for a spring day that will move our hearts.
