©Courtesy of Tribeca Festival
In youth-oriented, fast-moving, modern societies, many elderly are overlooked and brushed aside, marginalized and isolated, or just have a bad rap. In the autumn of age, it’s too common to become invisible. In cinema, the theme has been explored in various ways, from Poetry to Umberto D., from Nomadland to Tokyo Story and The Lady in the Van. But instead of accepting and simmering bitterness and rage, the invisibility could be a benefit – and a spark to do “inappropriate” things. That is exactly what the three outsiders in People and Meat have in mind. This charming little treasure from South Korea, that just had its world premiere at Tribeca Festival in the international competition, makes an old, poor, and meat-loving trio wonderfully visible.
In the first scenes we meet one of the three, trash picker U-sik, on the back alleys of Seoul before the dawn. Groaning, he drags his cart up the hills looking for cardboard boxes he can sell while the enormous city is still, and the birds are chirping. Soon he meets Hyeong-jung, another poor, elderly cardboard seeker who happens to live in a big house that belongs to his estranged son.
They start off with a fight, but soon enough they become friends, and connect with a woman, Hwa-jin, who sells vegetables on the square. After the three gather in Hyeon-jung’s house to make beef and radish soup, U-sik hatches the idea of eating at restaurants and dodging the bill. After all, they all crave meat, and it’s a smooth trick. “Invisible” oldies could easily disappear from a table and nobody would suspect them. Soon the three friends embark on a gastronomic crime spree as the infamous “dine and dash trio”. Quickly, everything becomes both tasty and exciting – life is lived at the fullest.
©Courtesy of Tribeca Festival
It takes a certain amount of talent and cleverness to successfully weld the combination of comedy, tragedy, and sharp social commentary into something fresh, heartwarming and moving with a touch of poetry, and to make a feel-good movie that doesn’t overflow with clichés or moral pointing sticks. The director Yang Jong-hyun’s splendid little debut, driven by amazing performances by veteran actors Jang Yong, Park Geun-hyung and Ye Soo-jung, takes on a trio of friends who seem to have more in common that what initially appears: no money and never enough food rejected by society and families.
On the surface the director, and scriptwriter Lim Namoo, tell something light and endearing, but underneath they examine a more serious topic – an urban, contemporary society where many older people are neglected and feel insignificant. In this case, in South Korea, where rapid modernization and changing family structures often prioritizes youth and productivity. The country is also one of the most digitally advanced in the world, which older adults may struggle with. Historically, elders were placed at the top of the social hierarchy, granting them respect and authority. But in today’s urban, capitalist South Korea things have changed.
The description of Seoul, that frames the story, is authentic. In the huge city, with around ten million habitants, we get to see places like worn back street, narrow alleys, small restaurants, the insides of a train and an emergency room captured by cinematographer Seong-eun Lee. When he shot the trio escaping from one of their many dine and dash experiences, it turns into a modest action sequence, adding to the humor. But there are also deeply touching moments when the trio in the restaurants talks about the long, silent struggles to survive in the past, the lost children and personal regrets. And especially touching when Hyeon-jung meet a poor friend who has decided to starve himself to death.
©Courtesy of Tribeca Festival
We are not spoiled to see elderly being a film’s focus in cinema, where themes of invisibility and isolation are illuminated. In Lee Chang-dong’s Poetry (2010), for example, isolation is deeply embedded in the sweet grandmother who lives on the margins of both her family and society. Writing poetry becomes a subtle act of resistance. In Yasujirō Ozu’s classic Tokyo Story (1953), the older parents become background figures for their grown children and in Chloé Zhao’s Oscar winner Nomadland (2020), the invisibility and isolation for Frances McDormand’s independent nomad are not tragic but modes of survival, she has choosing dignity in the margins.
Umberto D. (1952), directed by Vittorio De Sica, about the retired civil servant in postwar Rome who slips into poverty, is one of the most compassionate portrayals in cinema of what is means to grow old and unseen. And one of the most humoristic examples could be Nicholas Hytner’s The Lady in the Van (2015) and Maggie Smith’s eccentric elderly character who is very physically present but socially invisible, a woman society has misunderstood.
In People and Meat, society seems to have forgotten our less eccentric characters. Their isolation and invisibility turn into a lovely friendship, into a sort of alternative family without romances – to dine and dash opens in fact their minds to generosity and clarity, to become keepers of wisdom. When both life and death feel like a chore, friends, “inappropriate” behavior, and delicious meat could have that marvelous healing taste.
Grade: B+
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