Poetry

In a modest South Korean neighborhood, Yang Mi‑ja lives on the edge of memory, her days marked by a quiet routine of caring for an ailing elder and navigating the challenges of poverty. At sixty‑six, she is already confronting the early signs of Alzheimer’s, a condition that makes each moment both fragile and precious. Her world is a tapestry of ordinary details—a river that runs through the town, the hum of a community center, the rhythm of poetry classes that offer a gentle escape from the relentless march of forgetfulness.

Sharing the cramped apartment with her sixteen‑year‑old grandson, Jong‑wook, Mi‑ja balances the demands of teenage turbulence with her own fading recollections. Jong‑wook’s mother, living far away in Busan, leaves the responsibility of his upbringing squarely on Mi‑ja’s shoulders, creating a bond that is simultaneously tender and strained. Their relationship, steeped in love and obligation, becomes the emotional core of the story, highlighting the generational gap and the weight of guardianship in a household stretched thin.

When the community is shaken by the tragic loss of a classmate—a girl whose death reverberates through the school and the town—Mi‑ja finds herself inadvertently drawn into the ensuing crisis that surrounds her grandson. The film uses this backdrop to explore themes of responsibility, the silences that families keep, and the moral complexities that arise when personal hardships intersect with collective grief.

Through understated cinematography and a measured, contemplative tone, the narrative immerses the audience in a world where ordinary lives are tinged with uncertainty. Poetry becomes a subtle motif, offering Mi‑ja a way to capture fleeting moments and to articulate the emotions that words often fail to convey. The story invites viewers to contemplate the cost of memory, the quiet strength of caregiving, and the delicate balance between truth and protection in a family bound by love and hardship.

Last Updated: October 07, 2025 at 13:31