Wonwoo Kim

We stand at the edge of the world each day. After the world ends, a new day and world begin. The days lost their connections long ago—there is no tomorrow or yesterday, only fragmented todays. What lies at the end of the path through these fragments?

Moon-ju has arranged to meet Jae-heung, a journalist she has always admired. Suddenly, Jae-heung asks her if she believes in UFOs.

Will is a kind of verbal symbolic balance sheet for life, in which we reconcile our material and immaterial possessions and pass on our message to the next generation. The poetic last words form the outline of the film composed of four segments reflecting in different ways on life against inevitable finality – whether it is a couple of young people walking through a Parisian cemetery, a video installation poetically pointing out the manifestations of mortality around us, a family filmed from the position of the grave while performing cemetery rituals, or the film director as the passive recipient of a farewell to life.

A meditation on life as it continues after loss, So to Speak, Light hesitantly welcomes viewers into the world of filmmaker Wonwoon Kim as he journeys home to South Korea from France to attend his grandmother’s funeral. Simple memories of his now-deceased grandparents speckle the film as Wonwoo aimlessly wanders through the day-to-day routine in his hometown. Ruminating on light, photography, family resemblance, return, and the ability for film to capture more than a moment, Wonwoo asks: How should we endure? This film, a collection of now, is his answer.