The Korean director Hong Sang-soo is one of the most idiosyncratic auteur directors working today. He crafts minimalist dramas — conversations in bars, static camera shots — that are deceptively complex. Most of his films juggle multiple storylines, often featuring sly commentary on male-female dynamics and artistic pursuits. Though his films are often critically acclaimed and play at major film festivals, Hong remains under the radar of many cineastes.
Hong’s working style is one of a kind. Productions typically begin with just a few pages of script outline. The director writes each day’s scenes early in the morning. Actors memorize their dialogue on the spot and jump into shooting minutes afterward. A sparse crew and focused schedule ensure a typical Hong production wraps in just a few weeks.
Even with such spontaneous filmmaking techniques, Hong’s movies are more notable for their low-key consistency than variation. Character arcs are gentle. Emotions often stay beneath the surface. The setting is almost always present day Korea, usually the urban landscapes of streets, cafes, and bars. Most scenes are extended conversations, shot with long takes from a single master shot that avoids movement except for the occasional pan or zoom. Interactions tend to involve just two or three people, though typically at least one scene involves a larger ensemble eating and drinking soju together. Many Hong characters have connections to film, often working as directors or actors.
Against that minimalist backdrop, Hong still manages to reshape his approach with structural and narrative experimentation. He frequently builds films around multiple storylines. That might be two parallel stories with no overlapping characters (In Our Day), a single story told out of order (The Day After), or a film within a film (Tale of Cinema). And while many of Hong’s characters share familiar attributes, each film’s protagonist has a distinctive story arc.
Hong’s naturalism, domestic urban settings, and gentle storytelling, combined with a recognizable, repetitive “house style” have drawn comparisons to Eric Rohmer and Woody Allen. It’s an admittedly divisive approach; some critics have derided his movies as slow, banal, and forgettable.
That makes choosing the right starting point from the director’s prolific filmography — 33 films over three decades — especially important. I find the best pair accessible elements of drama or romance with one easy to follow narrative twist. Right Now, Wrong Then is a prime example. The film begins as a simple “meet cute” between a director and local artist, but a shift at the midway point expands the scope, transforming it into an insightful view on male-female dynamics and destiny. The film’s structure asks the audience to reflect on how subtle shifts in timing and character can lead to radically different outcomes.
I would also recommend Tale of Cinema, a movie that starts in a seemingly melodramatic direction but transitions to a warmer, lighter meditation on how art influences life. The 2005 film notably marked the first time the director experimented with meta narratives and zooms.
On the Beach at Night Alone makes a strong final entry point. Compared to Right Now, Wrong Then and Tale of Cinema, it is a bit of an outlier in Hong’s filmography, comparatively quiet, melancholic and more of a character study than an ensemble piece. It features an excellent performance by Kim Min-hee as an actress reeling from the fallout of a publicized affair with a married man.
Regardless of where you start with Hong’s films, I find they tend to improve in quality the more you watch them. As the director’s working template becomes familiar, you notice more subtle story beats and variations in tone. His most radical experiments with time structure — films like The Day He Arrives, Walk Up, and The Day After — become more grounded and accessible.
Hong’s also a director that benefits from the right mood. His blend of slow cinema can be a struggle to appreciate when you’re tired, distracted, or otherwise impatient. Conversely, his dramas can be a great palate cleanser between movies that are more high concept, genre forward, or otherwise visually flamboyant.
Bottom line, there’s no director like Hong Sang-soo working today. He’s repetitive, yet constantly finds subtle variations in tone and structure. He’s prolific and award winning, yet underseen. If you’re at all open to films with a slower pace and naturalist aesthetic, I’d encourage you to seek out and try at least one of his films.