I have a soft spot for a couple of things…dogs and elderly people. So I was immediately drawn to Moyoung Jin’s documentary “My Love, Don’t Cross That River,” a Korean independent film which portrays the relationship of one couple after 76 years of marital bliss. What starts out as a beautiful story about a true love that defines the term “soul mate,” suddenly had me feeling quite guilty; for it’s hard not to feel as if this fragile couple is being exploited during the most life-altering moment of their lives. But more on that later.
The film opens with a shot of a woman sitting in the falling snow, her back towards the camera. She is crying, alone. A clear foreshadowing of things to come, we then flashback to about a year earlier and we are introduced to Byong-man Jo and Gye-yeul Kang, nicknamed the “100-year-old Lovebirds.” They radiate joy, playfully and slowly, tossing leaves in the air and at each other. He sings her songs, she calls him hubby. They are the picture of what true love looks like.
We learn more about the couple, their lifestyle, and history. They live in a remote village in Korea, next to a running river. She gave birth to 12 children and lost 6 of them due to the war, measles, and other tragic circumstances. They met when she was 14, and he was 19 as part of an arranged marriage. Initially appalled by the age difference, she did not even hug him until she was 17-years-old. Overcome by emotion, she explains that he waited for her to feel comfortable, something that she has been grateful for ever since. Now, they cannot fall asleep without holding each other’s hand.
His health declines very rapidly, which is captured on camera. The coughing and wheezing get worse, and all we can do is watch helplessly as he suffers. A man who was once so playful and fun loving literally turns into a walking skeleton, barely able to mutter a word. The couple is put through even more difficult circumstances when one of their two dogs passes away. Director Moyoung Jin’s choice to show the dead dog in the arms of the dying man changes what could have been seen as a poetic, circle of life moment, to one that just feels sad.
There are moments early on in the film where I found myself choking back tears, especially during the tender touches to her face as they fall asleep. However, the more his health declines, the more Moyoung Jin seems to fixate on her breaking heart, almost capitalizing on the cinematic draw that it will bring. I found this not only difficult to watch but incredibly sad to see one family’s private moments of anguish become so public.
What started out as a celebration of humanity, unfortunately, became what felt like an exploitation of a fragile woman’s grieving process. This isn’t just my “soft spot” talking either (although I did have to witness both a dog and an elderly person die on screen). To me, this brings up the bigger question of morality in filmmaking. I’m not saying that Moyoung Jin should have censored or in any way omitted the fact that death is, of course, part of life, but the way it is portrayed just didn’t sit well with me. Focusing on pain and loss above the beauty of what created this relationship,”My Love, Don’t Cross That River” leaves viewers feeling blue.
“My Love, Don’t Cross That River” is not rated. Now playing in select theaters.
