Latest news with #KoreanCanadian
![[Graphic News] ‘Parasite' tops NYT's 100 best movies of 21st century](/_next/image?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwimg.heraldcorp.com%2Fnews%2Fcms%2F2025%2F07%2F23%2Fnews-p.v1.20250723.3b351133929d4110b02e3efcb1350132_T1.gif&w=3840&q=100)
![[Graphic News] ‘Parasite' tops NYT's 100 best movies of 21st century](/_next/image?url=https%3A%2F%2Fall-logos-bucket.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fkoreaherald.com.png&w=48&q=75){kind=small}
Korea Herald
6 days ago
- Entertainment
- Korea Herald
[Graphic News] ‘Parasite' tops NYT's 100 best movies of 21st century
Korean director Bong Joon-ho's 2019 film 'Parasite' has been named the best movie of the 21st century by The New York Times. The top 100 list was compiled based on votes from 500 directors, actors and film fans. The Times praised 'Parasite' as 'delightful yet twisted, unsettling and shocking,' noting that it 'tells the story of the haves and have-nots and offers a fierce critique of neo-liberalism.' Two other Korean films also made the list: 'Oldboy' (2005) by Park Chan-wook ranked 43rd, while Bong's earlier film 'Memories of Murder' (2005) placed 99th. Korean Canadian director Celine Song's 2023 film 'Past Lives' was also included at No. 86. don@
Chicago Tribune
01-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Chicago Tribune
Review: Celine Song's weird and morbid ‘Tom & Eliza' has its Chicago premiere at TUTA Theatre
A librarian who develops an obsessive habit of burning books. A historian who loses his memory and begins to believe he's an oyster. With this odd couple as its title characters, Celine Song's 'Tom & Eliza,' now playing at TUTA Theatre, is a dark, sometimes absurd portrait of unraveling. In just over an hour, we witness the breakdown of one relationship, two individual minds and an entire society. Song, a Korean Canadian playwright and filmmaker, is best known for writing and directing the 2023 film 'Past Lives,' which was nominated for Academy Awards for best picture and best original screenplay. With this directorial debut and her recent sophomore film, 'Materialists,' she is developing a reputation for nuanced reinterpretations of the romantic drama and rom-com genres. While 'Tom & Eliza' also centers on a romantic relationship, it's more eccentric and experimental than Song's budding film canon. Nearly a decade after it premiered in New York, TUTA co-artistic director Aileen Wen McGroddy stages the play's Chicago premiere with Clifton Frei and Seoyoung Park starring in this two-hander. With striking design work and deft delivery of the play's unconventional dialogue, TUTA's production offers an intriguing yet confounding experience that puts up literal and figurative barriers between characters and audience. The play opens with Frei and Park perched on stools in the center of Tatiana Kahvegian's deceptively simple set, a black light box with a transparent scrim forming a visible fourth wall. The off-white costumes (also designed by Kahvegian) reflect the harsh uplighting by Keith Parham, and the combined effect makes Tom and Eliza seem like specimens in a museum display, allowing the audience to peer into their messy lives. Despite this visual sense of exposure and the confessional style of Song's writing, Tom and Eliza remain enigmatic. They begin by narrating their third date, and already, the play is concerned with existential questions. Tom muses, in graphic detail, about his parents' actions that led to his conception, birth and growing up to enter this particular restaurant on this particular date. Later, he is both baffled and horrified by his and Eliza's children, whom he loves but finds somewhat alien. Song writes repetitive dialogue that the two characters volley back and forth, reinforcing and contradicting each other with simple syntax that could be mistaken for a children's storybook if not for its adult themes. Sometimes narrating different perspectives on the same events and sometimes splicing together two unrelated monologues, the actors direct most of their dialogue toward the house rather than each other. Park develops an especially strong rapport with the audience, her wry delivery belied by a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. Although they both reveal disturbing elements of their inner lives, I came away from this play feeling like I didn't fully understand these characters and their motivations. For Eliza, an innocent work assignment — disposing of books being phased out of her library's system — leads to an insatiable desire to burn books, an obsession that eventually engulfs her children and her community, with global consequences. Why would a librarian want to burn books, you might ask? Eliza never explains. They simply must be burnt, she says. Meanwhile, Tom has a quieter crisis, increasingly spending his days submerged in a bathtub and declaring in a singsong voice that he's a little oyster. Frankly, it's difficult to understand how this couple ever got together. There's little palpable chemistry between them from the start, and they only grow further apart as time goes on. While the limited character development is frustrating, the disconnect between these two lovers tracks with Song's interest in the unexpected consequences of mundane actions (also a theme of 'Past Lives'). Just as their parents' past decisions set into motion their own fates, a tryst behind a cheap pizza joint forever changes Tom and Eliza's lives. Though they may be as different as fire and water, their destructive paths run on parallel tracks from this point forward. One final note: Kahvegian and Parham's designs really pay off toward the end of the play, culminating in some delightfully atmospheric images. Last year, Kahvegian's scenic design for the Broadway adaptation of 'The Outsiders' earned her a Tony Award nomination, and it's a treat to see her work up close in one of Chicago's storefront theaters. If you like your plays a bit morbid and weird, 'Tom & Eliza' is worth a 'Tom & Eliza' (3 stars) When: Through Aug. 17 Where: TUTA Theatre, 4670 N. Manor Ave. Running time: 1 hour, 5 minutes Tickets: $20-$60 at
Express Tribune
26-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Express Tribune
KPop Demon Hunters tops Netflix charts in 41 countries with action, folklore and star-studded voice cast
The animated action-musical KPop Demon Hunters has become a global sensation, topping Netflix's movie charts in 41 countries just days after its release. According to streaming analytics platform FlixPatrol, the film claimed the No. 1 spot in major markets including South Korea, the United States, Taiwan, Thailand, the Philippines, Singapore, and Portugal as of June 24. The movie debuted globally on June 20. *KPop Demon Hunters* follows the story of Huntrix, a fictional K-pop girl group composed of members Rumi, Mira, and Joy, who lead double lives as secret demon hunters when they're not performing on stage. The film combines fast-paced action with musical elements, blending modern K-pop with fantasy and traditional Korean folklore. The film attracted early buzz with a star-studded voice cast, including Lee Byung-hun and Ahn Hyo-seop. The theme song, performed by TWICE members Jeongyeon, Jihyo, and Chaeyoung, boosted its appeal among global K-pop fans. Behind the scenes, the film was directed by Chris Appelhans (Hotel Transylvania) and Korean Canadian filmmaker Maggie Kang, and produced by Sony Pictures Animation. Kang, who was born in Seoul and raised in Toronto, emphasized her intent to weave Korean culture into the film's design and narrative. She cited early influences from first-generation K-pop stars like Seo Taiji and H.O.T. Visually, the film is celebrated for showcasing uniquely Korean aesthetics. Iconic landmarks such as N Seoul Tower and traditional giwajip rooftops appear prominently, alongside folklore-inspired figures like the jeoseungsaja, a traditional grim reaper. With its mix of cultural authenticity and international appeal, KPop Demon Hunters has quickly earned acclaim and chart-topping success on Netflix across diverse global audiences.
Yahoo
12-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
‘Materialists' review: A matchmaker is torn between Pedro Pascal and Chris Evans
After too many mediocre rom-coms messing with us, can our own questions about romantic love and long-range sustainability ever be entirely free of either practical considerations or the other stuff — the stuff you can't take to the bank? Writer and director Celine Song's second feature, 'Materialists,' ruminates on the subject within the broad outlines of a romantic-comic triangle. That's the geometric shape of it, kind of. There's insight and wit here, coexisting with handy contrivances Song uses, somewhat sheepishly, to get her story to end up where it's going. How it gets there, and in what mood, makes it interesting. Two years ago, the Korean Canadian filmmaker gave us 'Past Lives,' which, like 'Materialists,' could be described as routine romantic triangulation, subverted. With that beautiful achievement, Song's supple feature debut made the near-impossible look easy, in a story of the people we were before the people we become, and the bargains and longing and compromises connecting past to present. 'Materialists' is another tale of a decision point. It is Lucy's story, if not quite Dakota Johnson's movie. Rare for an American film of any sort, we learn what this Manhattanite earns annually (around $80 grand) as an employee of a classy, higher-end matchmaking firm called Adore. This puts her somewhere in between the two men in her life. One is her ex, the struggling, somewhat tetchy actor/caterer John, played by Chris Evans. The other is Lucy's discreetly persistent suitor, the private equity dreamboat Harry, the one with an inhumanly clutter-free, $12 million pad in Tribeca. Pedro Pascal shifts into stealth mode for this portrayal, artfully suggesting forlorn corners of a determinedly curated personality. Lucy meets Harry at the wedding of one of Lucy's former clients, who is marrying Harry's brother. Briskly, 'Materialists' plops John, catering the wedding, into the equation as he delivers Lucy's preferred drink in the same instant she tells Harry what she's ordering. He's the Radar O'Reilly of this scenario, and a reminder to Lucy of her own struggling years as an actress. Her past life with John, as we see in flashbacks, was full of wearying arguments about money. She called it off. He's still in love with her. Mired in it. Filmmaker Song, who worked for a while as a matchmaker, plays with different ideas and conflicts as Lucy falls gently into Harry's world of exquisite luxury and enticing worry-freeness. Once too often in the screenplay, Lucy reverts to discussing her clients' relationships and her own wariness in clinical terms, with each new prospective mate checking a certain number of boxes. Her cynicism is borne of experience, with John as well as what she has seen, and often personally arranged, on the job. There's a narrative swerve in 'Materialists' involving a client's sexual assault, on a date arranged by Lucy. It's not handled as a drastic tonal shift or a melodramatic convenience (it's all about the aftermath), but there is a queasiness, intentional yet a mite dubious, to its story presence as a life lesson for Lucy as much or even more than for her client. Song has little interest in romantic comedy fizz, at least here. Besides the triangle premise, 'Past Lives' and 'Materialists' share a somewhat mysterious and valuable weight class: They're neither heavy nor light, but there's a deftly handled seriousness of purpose in the telling that worked unerringly in 'Past Lives' and more intermittently this time. Johnson has been effective and affecting in many roles, and without her disarming naturalism, the entire 'Fifty Shades of Grey' trilogy would've collapsed underneath its own dreckiness. There is, however, a thin line between relaxed and not quite enough, and while Johnson and Evans relish the chance in 'Materialists' to play quasi-real people with reality-adjacent concerns, their scenes feel a little underpowered. By contrast, Pascal, even while playing a restrained version of a golden movie archetype, is so innately compelling on screen the movie can't help but lean his way. The world needs more mixed-up, legitimately searching romantic serio-comedies; even when we forget the narrative particulars, we remember the emotional surprises, the way the Vince Vaughn/Jennifer Aniston film 'The Break-Up' (nearly 20 years ago!) lingers in the mind. In that movie, conventional formula fought hard with unconventional detours and some useful audience discomfort, and the result was a hit despite itself. I bring this up only because 'Materialists' is similarly conflicted, and intriguing. It may not be what 'Past Lives' was but already, it's lingering a little for me. It may make true love look all too Hollywood-easy in the end, but en route it's still a Celine Song film. ——— 'MATERIALISTS' 3 stars (out of 4) MPA rating: R (for language and brief sexual material) Running time: 1:56 How to watch: In theaters June 13 ———
Chicago Tribune
12-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Chicago Tribune
‘Materialists' review: A matchmaker is torn between Pedro Pascal and Chris Evans
After too many mediocre rom-coms messing with us, can our own questions about romantic love and long-range sustainability ever be entirely free of either practical considerations or the other stuff — the stuff you can't take to the bank? Writer and director Celine Song's second feature, 'Materialists,' ruminates on the subject within the broad outlines of a romantic-comic triangle. That's the geometric shape of it, kind of. There's insight and wit here, coexisting with handy contrivances Song uses, somewhat sheepishly, to get her story to end up where it's going. How it gets there, and in what mood, makes it interesting. Two years ago, the Korean Canadian filmmaker gave us 'Past Lives,' which, like 'Materialists,' could be described as routine romantic triangulation, subverted. With that beautiful achievement, Song's supple feature debut made the near-impossible look easy, in a story of the people we were before the people we become, and the bargains and longing and compromises connecting past to present. 'Materialists' is another tale of a decision point. It is Lucy's story, if not quite Dakota Johnson's movie. Rare for an American film of any sort, we learn what this Manhattanite earns annually (around $80 grand) as an employee of a classy, higher-end matchmaking firm called Adore. This puts her somewhere in between the two men in her life. One is her ex, the struggling, somewhat tetchy actor/caterer John, played by Chris Evans. The other is Lucy's discreetly persistent suitor, the private equity dreamboat Harry, the one with an inhumanly clutter-free, $12 million pad in Tribeca. Pedro Pascal shifts into stealth mode for this portrayal, artfully suggesting forlorn corners of a determinedly curated personality. Lucy meets Harry at the wedding of one of Lucy's former clients, who is marrying Harry's brother. Briskly, 'Materialists' plops John, catering the wedding, into the equation as he delivers Lucy's preferred drink in the same instant she tells Harry what she's ordering. He's the Radar O'Reilly of this scenario, and a reminder to Lucy of her own struggling years as an actress. Her past life with John, as we see in flashbacks, was full of wearying arguments about money. She called it off. He's still in love with her. in it. Filmmaker Song, who worked for a while as a matchmaker, plays with different ideas and conflicts as Lucy falls gently into Harry's world of exquisite luxury and enticing worry-freeness. Once too often in the screenplay, Lucy reverts to discussing her clients' relationships and her own wariness in clinical terms, with each new prospective mate checking a certain number of boxes. Her cynicism is borne of experience, with John as well as what she has seen, and often personally arranged, on the job. There's a narrative swerve in 'Materialists' involving a client's sexual assault, on a date arranged by Lucy. It's not handled as a drastic tonal shift or a melodramatic convenience (it's all about the aftermath), but there is a queasiness, intentional yet a mite dubious, to its story presence as a life lesson for Lucy as much or even more than for her client. Song has little interest in romantic comedy fizz, at least here. Besides the triangle premise, 'Past Lives' and 'Materialists' share a somewhat mysterious and valuable weight class: They're neither heavy nor light, but there's a deftly handled seriousness of purpose in the telling that worked unerringly in 'Past Lives' and more intermittently this time. Johnson has been effective and affecting in many roles, and without her disarming naturalism, the entire 'Fifty Shades of Grey' trilogy would've collapsed underneath its own dreckiness. There is, however, a thin line between relaxed and not quite enough, and while Johnson and Evans relish the chance in 'Materialists' to play quasi-real people with reality-adjacent concerns, their scenes feel a little underpowered. By contrast, Pascal, even while playing a restrained version of a golden movie archetype, is so innately compelling on screen the movie can't help but lean his way. The world needs more mixed-up, legitimately searching romantic serio-comedies; even when we forget the narrative particulars, we remember the emotional surprises, the way the Chicago-set Vince Vaughn/Jennifer Aniston film 'The Break-Up' (nearly 20 years ago!) lingers in the mind. In that movie, conventional formula fought hard with unconventional detours and some useful audience discomfort, and the result was a hit despite itself. I bring this up only because 'Materialists' is similarly conflicted, and intriguing. It may not be what 'Past Lives' was but already, it's lingering a little for me. It may make true love look all too Hollywood-easy in the end, but en route it's still a Celine Song film. 'Materialists' — 3 stars (out of 4) MPA rating: R (for strong language and brief sexual material) Running time: 1:49 How to watch: Premieres in theaters June 13
