Mun-hee, a divorcee in her early thirties, has fallen in love with Hyun, in his last year of high school. Mun-hee is arrested for having sex with a minor, but upon her release Hyun meets her in front of the police station and they go to a love hotel for several more days of non-stop sex. Eventually, doubts begin to creep into Mun-hee’s mind, and she declares that their affair is finished. Hyun is persistent, however, and soon their relationship enters a new phase.
Park Chul-soo’s Green Chair sounds like a fairly straightforward tale of sex and the occasional moral pang, but it turns out to be something far more interesting. After a fairly explicit first reel, the film settles down to examine all the little details of Hyun and Mun-hee’s relationship. It does so with warmth and humor, resulting in a nuanced, touching, and subversive love story.
As in many of his previous features, such as the grisly cooking movie 301, 302 or the ob-gyn extravaganza Push! Push!, Park’s direct, non-judgmental approach can be alienating for mainstream viewers. This turned into a problem for Green Chair when its investor, Hapdong Film, decided it was too bizarre to have any commercial potential, and shelved it. That was in 2003, and it was a year and a half before festivals like Sundance and Berlin managed to rescue it from obscurity.
Apart from Park’s inimitable style, Green Chair draws strength from its great cast. Suh Jung, best known from The Isle, brings vitality to the character of Mun-hee; while newcomer Shim Ji-ho plays Hyun as passionate and self-confident beyond his years. A special treat is the appearance of actress Oh Yoon-hong (The Power of Kangwon Province) as Mun-hee’s friend - the warmth and camaraderie the three characters share is one of the most memorable parts of the film.