You know that feeling when you're sitting at a bar with two different people from two completely different parts of your life, and you suddenly feel like a walking bridge? Like you’re the only person in the room who can translate not just the words, but the actual soul of one person to the other?
That’s exactly where Past Lives started.
It wasn't some corporate pitch or a "marketable" idea cooked up in a studio basement. Honestly, it was just Celine Song sitting in an East Village bar between her husband (who speaks no Korean) and her childhood sweetheart (who had flown in from Seoul and spoke very little English). She was the only one who knew both of them. She was the portal.
The Real Story Behind the Script
Most people think Past Lives is a standard love triangle. It’s not. Kinda the opposite, actually. Song has been very clear that the "villain" of the movie isn't the husband, Arthur, or even the passage of time—it's the Pacific Ocean.
The story is deeply semi-autobiographical. Like her character Nora, Celine Song moved from South Korea to Canada at age 12. She later became a playwright in New York. She even married a Jewish writer (Justin Kuritzkes). But while the framework is real, Song calls the movie an "adaptation" of her life rather than a straight documentary.
Why the "In-Yun" Concept Isn't Just a Gimmick
If you’ve seen the film, you’ve heard the word In-Yun.
It’s a Korean concept rooted in Buddhism. Basically, it suggests that every interaction between two people—even just brushing clothes on the street—is the result of thousands of layers of connection from previous lives.
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"If two people get married, they say it's because there have been 8,000 layers of In-Yun over 8,000 lifetimes."
Song uses this not as some magical fantasy element, but as a way to explain that heavy, unshakeable feeling of knowing someone. It’s about why some people feel like "home" even when you haven't seen them in two decades. It’s about the fact that Hae Sung doesn't just represent a crush; he represents the version of Nora that stayed in Korea. The "Na Young" that ceased to exist.
Breaking Every "Hollywood" Rule
The production of Past Lives was weird. In a good way.
Celine Song came from the world of theater, and she brought some pretty radical techniques to the set of her directorial debut. For starters, she kept the two lead actors—Teo Yoo (Hae Sung) and John Magaro (Arthur)—completely separate until the moment their characters actually meet on screen.
No rehearsals together. No hanging out at the craft services table.
She wanted that first meeting to feel awkward, tense, and real. When they finally look at each other in that apartment, that’s not just acting. That’s two strangers meeting for the first time while the cameras roll.
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A Script That Looks Like a Novel
Typical screenplays are pretty dry. They focus on what you can see and hear. Song’s script for Past Lives was different. It was only 86 pages—tiny by industry standards—but it was packed with "internal prose." She wrote out the characters' thoughts and feelings in a way that’s usually reserved for novels.
She even wrote the Korean dialogue in Korean on the page, with the English translation right next to it, rather than just putting "(speaking Korean)" in a bracket. It forced everyone on the crew to respect the duality of the story from day one.
The Ending That Still Divides People
Let’s talk about that walk to the Uber.
Some people find the ending of Past Lives absolutely devastating because Nora and Hae Sung don't end up together. They think it's a tragedy. But Song has a different take. She calls it a "happy ending."
Why? Because Nora finally gets to mourn.
When Nora walks back to Arthur and bursts into tears, she isn't just crying because she misses Hae Sung. She’s crying for the 12-year-old girl she left behind in Seoul. She never got to say a proper goodbye to her childhood. Hae Sung’s visit was the ritual she needed to finally let go of that "past life" and be fully present in her current one.
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What This Means for Modern Movies
In an era of $200 million sequels and CGI explosions, a quiet movie about three people talking in a bar managed to get nominated for Best Picture at the Oscars. That’s massive.
It proves there is a huge hunger for stories that:
- Embrace Silence: Some of the most powerful moments in the film have no dialogue at all.
- Respect the "Other" Guy: Arthur isn't a villain or a "placeholder" husband. He’s a kind, observant man who acknowledges that he can never know the part of Nora that speaks Korean in her dreams.
- Focus on Identity: The movie is less about "Who will she choose?" and more about "Who did I become because I left?"
Actionable Takeaways for Movie Lovers
If you're looking to dive deeper into the world Celine Song created, or if you're a filmmaker yourself, here are some things to look out for next:
- Watch the reflections: Throughout the film, Song uses puddles, windows, and mirrors to show the "split" versions of the characters. See how many you can spot on a re-watch.
- Check out "Endlings": This is Song’s breakout play. It deals with similar themes of Korean identity and the struggle of the immigrant experience in a very different format.
- Listen to the score: The music by Christopher Bear and Daniel Rossen shifts from ethereal organs to grounded piano as the movie progresses, mirroring Nora's journey from memory to reality.
The brilliance of Past Lives isn't that it tells a unique story. It's that it tells a universal feeling—the "what if"—with such honesty that it makes your own life feel a little more poetic.
Keep an eye on Song's next project, Materialists. It’s reportedly a rom-com starring Pedro Pascal and Chris Evans, but if Past Lives taught us anything, it’s that Celine Song doesn't do "standard" genres. She does humanity.