“A film about the past can be a film for the future” - Erwin Leiser
I always saw myself as a stranger since I came here in the U.S. about ten years ago. In those ten years, I was so isolated intentionally or unintentionally, my definition of home became more blurred as my thoughts and values morphed. My feelings about my hometown were somehow different from what I remembered or expected while I stayed in Seoul for three years. In fact, the image of the city was not too different. However, my view of my home was changed for reasons. This pushed me to ponder more and more: Who am I? At that point, I recognized that I was remembering what I wanted to remember and it made me more alienated from the things around me. In such circumstance, I failed to adjust to both homes: the Korean and the American home. My memories of home became a sickness like the Chris’s unforgettable memory of his dead wife (Hari) from the movie Solaris (1972) by Andrey Tarkovsky. To Chris, Hari was the object of longing before she comes back as the actual figure; however, Chris gets confused when he meets the actual object. As time passes in the space station, Chris reconciles his past memories with Hari. He treats her with a different attitude, with sympathy and love. It was then that he could start communicating with Hari, and it changed the solaris. Like Tarkovsky, I would like to know how my memories from two separated homes conflict with each other and why it bothers me to adjust to my new society, even when I don’t have strong feelings of home from my hometown anymore. I need to re-observe my two hometowns in the present and the past. With Home, I, as a filmmaker stand for the belief that filmmakers should understand themselves first to see and project the world with his or her own voice. I would like to understand my previous memories and project my personal observation with a poetic sensibility as a life traveler.