Latest news with #LaCinef
Korea Herald
22-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Korea Herald
Megabox to exclusively release Cannes-winning short ‘First Summer' on Aug. 6
Historic La Cinef winner marks rare theatrical run for Korean student film Multiplex chain Megabox will exclusively screen "First Summer," the Korean short film that won top prize at this year's Cannes Film Festival's La Cinef competition, starting Aug. 6, the company announced Tuesday. The 31-minute short from Korean Academy of Film Arts graduate Heo Ga-young will screen across around 50 Megabox theaters nationwide. Tickets will be priced at 3,000 won. "First Summer" made history in May as the first Korean film to win the top award in La Cinef, the Cannes section dedicated to student films. The competition selected 16 titles from 2,679 submissions and awarded first, second and third place honors. The film follows Yeong-sun, an elderly woman caught between attending her granddaughter's wedding and her boyfriend's memorial service. Veteran actor Heo Jin leads the cast, with Jung In-ki in a supporting role. Director Heo has said the story was inspired by conversations with her grandmother. Megabox will host special screenings and offer limited merchandise giveaways as part of the release. The exhibitor previously screened Joung Yu-mi's Cannes-selected short "Glasses" in June as part of its ongoing push into curated short film programming. 'We saw clear interest from audiences for Heo Ga-young's award-winning work,' said Kim Joo-hong, head of content planning at Megabox. 'We'll continue to expand our curated offerings to bring more diverse content to theaters.'
Korea Herald
03-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Korea Herald
Heo Ga-young didn't expect to get on course —then she won at Cannes
From a no-budget short film to La Cinef's top prize, the director reflects on her creative journey and the uncertain road ahead When Heo Ga-young applied to the Korean Academy of Film Arts with a bare-bones seven-minute film about sweet and sour pork, she figured she'd blown it. The school was Korea's most prestigious film program, the kind of place where industry veterans compete for spots alongside wannabe auteurs hoping to follow alumni like Bong Joon-ho. Her portfolio consisted of two amateur actors arguing over the ubiquitous Korean-Chinese dish — specifically, whether to pour the sauce on top or dip each piece. Total budget: basically nothing. Film background: some homemade clips and scripts, but nothing that really counted. "Some interviewers asked if I was mocking the school. Another said I had serious nerve," she says over coffee in Seoul. It was, she later learned, the shortest and cheapest submission in KAFA history. Then Jung Sung-il spoke up. Korea's most respected film critic and instructor at KAFA — the one cinephiles quote chapter and verse — saw something different. "He told me he didn't have questions, just advice. He said I was a genius, that I needed to make films, that most people wouldn't love my work but the ones who did would be obsessed with it forever." She laughs at the memory. "I had no clue who he was. Just this old guy being weirdly nice." Two years later, Heo's graduation film "First Summer" won the top prize at the Cannes International Film Festival's La Cinef competition, a competitive showcase for film school students, making her the first Korean filmmaker to take the top honor. It was also the only Korean film at Cannes this year — a lonely victory for a Korean film industry that is increasingly anxious about its global standing. The path from that strange interview to Cannes began, as these things often do, with family. While an undergraduate student at Yonsei University, Heo was assigned to interview an elderly person for a class project. She chose her grandmother, a woman she'd lived with as a teenager but never really understood. "I thought she didn't love me," Heo says. "Korean grandmothers are supposed to be warm, cooking for their grandchildren. Mine was cold, kind of twisted. She never made me a single meal. Did face masks every night but wouldn't share even one with her granddaughter." The conversation changed everything. "First thing out of her mouth: 'I have a boyfriend but can't reach him, so I'm taking sleeping pills because I'm so worried.' In that moment, I saw her for the first time — not as my grandmother or my mother's mother, but as a woman. My whole concept of elderly people just flipped upside down." That revelation sent Heo prowling Busan's streets, notebook in hand. She struck up random conversations with elderly people on street corners, visited the city's "colatecques" -- dance clubs where seniors socialize over Coke instead of alcohol. The first few times, she got turned away for being too young. "Once they heard I was making a film about elderly people, everything changed," she said. "They told me personal stories, became extras in the film, lent me their clothes." The colatecques revealed their own logic, their own culture. Open during daylight hours, closing by six so grandmothers could get home to cook dinner. Coffee from vending machines, trot music on the speakers, and that particular intimacy of partner dancing. "An old man asked me to dance, and suddenly his face was right there in front of mine. That's when I understood what having a dance partner means at that age. It's not about romance. It's about feeling alive, being a social creature, that physical struggle against disappearing." Her first draft told the story from a granddaughter's perspective — a young woman trying to understand her eccentric grandmother. Everyone loved it: The actors loved it, the school loved it. Heo had doubts. "I realized I was objectifying her all over again, romanticizing old age through my twentysomething lens. The story began with my grandmother's actual life. The moment I made it fake, the film would fail." A month before production, she rewrote everything from the grandmother's perspective. "The staff lost their minds," she says. The final version follows Yeong-sun, played with fierce dignity by veteran actor Heo Jin, as she chooses between attending her granddaughter's wedding and her younger boyfriend's funeral (spoiler alert: She picks the funeral). What unfolds is a portrait of grief, desire and late-life self-discovery that refuses to look away from its subject's complexity. At Cannes, the jury — including German filmmaker Maren Ade, whose "Toni Erdmann" Heo had studied obsessively in school — raved about the film. "They kept saying they loved it, love with a capital L," Heo recalls. But the real validation came from audiences at the post-ceremony screening in Paris. "Elderly women thanked me for making them protagonists. People said they needed to call their grandmothers immediately. One person said, 'Thank you for telling a story that isn't fake.' As a filmmaker, you can't ask for more than that." The warmth of that reception couldn't mask the reality Heo returned to in Korea. The film industry she'd entered two years ago is struggling to find its post-pandemic footing. Box office numbers remain sluggish, screen monopolies by a few blockbusters has worsened, and government funding for the arts has been slashed. Young directors are entering an industry that claimed to want fresh voices while demanding increasingly formulaic products. "They tell us in school to develop our unique vision, our own cinematic language," Heo says. "Then you graduate and realize the market only wants copies of what worked last year. You watch your seniors compromise until their films could be directed by anyone." Which made Monday's meeting at the Presidential Office all the more surreal. President Lee Jae-myung had gathered Korea's recent international award winners — including Tony Award-winning musical writer Park Chun-hue, Prix de Lausanne ballet champion Park Youn-jae and world-renowned soprano Jo Sumi. Heo sat among them as Korean cinema's sole representative, there because her student film had salvaged some pride for an industry shut out of every major film festival this year. The president's first words to her landed with perfect irony: "I hope you'll succeed as a commercial filmmaker." Heo wanted to ask what he meant by commercial. Instead, with cameras rolling and officials watching, she talked about the crisis eating Korean cinema alive. How film schools train directors to develop unique voices, how the industry claims to want innovation, but how market realities force young filmmakers into predetermined molds. "We lose our cinematic language trying to fit into boxes labeled 'profitable,'" she said. She made her pitch: Adopt the French model where blockbuster profits fund diverse filmmaking through taxation and redistribution. "Audiences are smarter than we think. They recognize good stories. But those stories have to exist first. When you maintain a steady supply of diverse films, the culture survives. In France, people still see movies as art, still go on dates to the cinema, because that ecosystem exists." The cameras rolled, ministers nodded politely, and Heo stumbled through her prepared remarks, forgetting half of what she had planned to say. "I was so nervous," she says. "All those cameras, all that pressure to represent an entire industry in crisis. I always thought I thrived onstage — guess not." That pressure reflects something deeper about the way Heo approaches her work. Throughout the interview, she returns repeatedly to broader questions of purpose and ethics. It would be reductive to label this activism — filmmakers create, and it would be blasphemous to suggest otherwise. But it's hard to miss how deeply Heo's awareness of cinema's social dimensions shapes her work. When sustainable filmmaking in financial terms is mentioned, she immediately pivots to environmental concerns — the mountains of waste generated after each shoot. When discussing "First Summer," she frames it in terms of violence of representation and the filmmaker's accountability. "Film is inherently violent," she says. "You're in a dark room, experiencing a director's world one-sidedly for hours. People pay money, give their time. We owe them something meaningful in return. Having a platform means having power. I feel that weight constantly." That weight drives the two scripts she's currently developing — one about a middle-aged female bassist, another about a couple trafficking abortion pills. But drive alone doesn't secure anything. Despite the Cannes victory and fawning media coverage, despite the presidential photo op and industry acclaim, Heo knows her future remains as precarious as any young filmmaker's. "We all live with this low-grade panic," she says. "Winning at Cannes was an incredible honor, but it guarantees nothing about my next film getting made. I constantly hear about projects being cancelled. I see directors becoming replaceable parts in an assembly line. The fear is that I've finally found my voice, and I'll have to lose it just to survive." "First Summer" will get a limited theatrical release in Korea next month, part of ongoing negotiations between KAFA and distributors. Theater chain representatives declined to comment on the matter. It's an important progress and victory for a student film that might otherwise struggle to find an audience, but hardly a career guarantee for Heo. Asked if she is optimistic about cinema's future, particularly in an era of shrinking attention spans and binge-watching, Heo doesn't hesitate. "Honestly? I'm pretty pessimistic." She pauses, reconsidering. "But I think every artist secretly harbors hope. Why else would we do this? We believe our work might shift something in the world, even if slightly. Film is becoming niche culture — maybe that's inevitable. But we still have to try." She finishes her coffee and shrugs.
The Star
01-07-2025
- Entertainment
- The Star
K-drama 'When Life Gives You Tangerines' that made the president cry — and why it matters for South Korea's cultural policy
SEOUL: President Lee Jae-myung (pic) on Monday (June 30) underscored the power of culture in enhancing Korea's global standing, sharing how a hit drama series moved him to tears and convinced him of the nation's untapped cultural potential. Speaking at a meeting with cultural figures at the Presidential Office in Yongsan, Lee said watching the Netflix hit "When Life Gives You Tangerines" reassured him the industry could provide a turnaround in the nation's growth. 'It made me realise that Korea's cultural capabilities go beyond just music, and that we have new strengths to offer,' Lee said, adding that the drama's universal resonance, despite its deeply Korean themes, was proof of culture's ability to connect across borders. 'Now, I find myself thinking deeply about how we can nurture this potential, provide our people with access to high-quality culture, create jobs, and strengthen our national power through culture,' he said. Monday's event gathered some of Korea's leading cultural figures who have recently gained international recognition. Attendees included Kim Won-seok, director of "When Life Gives You Tangerines," which topped Netflix's Global Non-English TV chart; Park Chun-hue, who won multiple Tony Awards for the musical "Maybe Happy Ending"; and soprano Sumi Jo, who received France's prestigious Commandeur of the Order of Arts and Letters in May for her contributions to music and the arts. Emerging artists were also present, including Huh Ga-young, winner of first prize in the La Cinef section at this year's Cannes Film Festival with her short film "First Summer," and Park Youn-jae, a 16-year-old who became the first Korean male dancer to win the Prix de Lausanne in its 53-year history. Kim, who has yet to receive a formal award, made light of the moment. 'I'm the only one among the five of us here who didn't receive an award, yet I'm still here. It seems the tears of the president and first lady were the award,' Kim joked, adding that he intended to make viewers laugh, not cry. 'I never expected the entire nation to resonate and shed tears with us, but people liked it much more and for much longer than I had imagined.' The president shared that his vision aligns with that of independence leader Kim Gu, who once said that military power should be just enough to protect ourselves, economic power just enough for us to live well, but that culture is different because it only does good in the world and spreads positive influence. He hoped for Korea to become a nation with truly strong cultural power. "I feel that we are now standing at the entrance of becoming the kind of cultural powerhouse Kim Gu envisioned," Lee added. "I believe that if we, as a nation, significantly increase investment and support for the cultural sector, provide opportunities for the next generation, grow this into an industry and expand Korea's cultural influence globally, we can become a leading nation — a true global powerhouse. I think this could become our greatest strength. These days, just thinking about it makes me feel proud," he noted. He also acknowledged the challenge of appointing a culture minister capable of realising this vision. 'That's why I still haven't been able to appoint a Minister of Culture yet,' Lee said with a laugh. 'It's such a complex task that it needs to be someone who can handle all of this. I hope all of you will think about it too.' As of Monday, Lee has appointed 17 out of 19 ministers, with the Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism and the Ministry of Land, Infrastructure and Transport still led by ministers retained from the previous administration. - The Korea Herald/ANN
Korea Herald
30-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Korea Herald
A drama that made President Lee Jae Myung cry — and why it matters for Korea's cultural policy
In his meeting with cultural figures, President Lee stresses the country's cultural potential President Lee Jae-myung on Monday underscored the power of culture in enhancing Korea's global standing, sharing how a hit drama series moved him to tears and convinced him of the nation's untapped cultural potential. Speaking at a meeting with cultural figures at the Presidential Office in Yongsan, Lee said watching the Netflix hit "When Life Gives You Tangerines" was a turning point in his perception of Korea's cultural strengths. 'It made me realize that Korea's cultural capabilities go beyond just music, and that we have new strengths to offer,' Lee said, adding that the drama's universal resonance, despite its deeply Korean themes, was proof of culture's ability to connect across borders. 'Now, I find myself thinking deeply about how we can nurture this potential, provide our people with access to high-quality culture, create jobs, and strengthen our national power through culture,' he said. Monday's event gathered some of Korea's leading cultural figures who have recently gained international recognition. Attendees included Kim Won-seok, director of "When Life Gives You Tangerines," which topped Netflix's Global Non-English TV chart; Park Chun-hue, who won multiple Tony Awards for the musical "Maybe Happy Ending"; and soprano Sumi Jo, who received France's prestigious Commandeur of the Order of Arts and Letters in May for her contributions to music and the arts. Emerging artists were also present, including Huh Ga-young, winner of first prize in the La Cinef section at this year's Cannes Film Festival with her short film "First Summer," and Park Youn-jae, a 16-year-old who became the first Korean male dancer to win the Prix de Lausanne in its 53-year history. Kim, who has yet to receive a formal award, made light of the moment. 'I'm the only one among the five of us here who didn't receive an award, yet I'm still here. It seems the tears of the president and first lady were the award,' Kim joked, adding that he intended to make viewers laugh, not cry. 'I never expected the entire nation to resonate and shed tears with us, but people liked it much more and for much longer than I had imagined.' The president shared that his vision aligns with that of independence leader Kim Gu, who once said that military power should be just enough to protect ourselves, economic power just enough for us to live well, but that culture is different because it only does good in the world and spreads positive influence. He hoped for Korea to become a nation with truly strong cultural power. "I feel that we are now standing at the entrance of becoming the kind of cultural powerhouse Kim Gu envisioned," Lee added. "We might be at the enterance of a nation I believe that if we, as a nation, significantly increase investment and support for the cultural sector, provide opportunities for the next generation, grow this into an industry and expand Korea's cultural influence globally, we can become a leading nation — a true global powerhouse. I think this could become our greatest strength. These days, just thinking about it makes me feel proud," he noted. He also acknowledged the challenge of appointing a culture minister capable of realizing this vision. 'That's why I still haven't been able to appoint a Minister of Culture yet,' Lee said with a laugh. 'It's such a complex task that it needs to be someone who can handle all of this. I hope all of you will think about it too.' As of Monday, Lee has appointed 17 out of 19 ministers, with the Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism and the Ministry of Land, Infrastructure and Transport still led by ministers retained from the previous administration.
Korea Herald
23-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Korea Herald
Heo Ga-young's 'First Summer' wins top honor at Cannes' La Cinef
KAFA graduate becomes first Korean filmmaker to win La Cinef's top prize Heo Ga-young's graduation short "First Summer" won first prize at La Cinef at the 78th Cannes Film Festival, becoming the first Korean film to receive the top honor, festival organizers announced Thursday. The Korean Academy of Film Arts graduate beat 15 other student films selected from nearly 2,700 entries worldwide. Her 15-minute work pairs veteran actor Heo Jin with Jung In-ki in a story about an older woman charting new territory after years devoted to her family. Jury president Maren Ade presented the 15,000 euro ($17,000) first prize during Thursday's ceremony at Bunuel Theatre in Cannes. Beijing Film Academy's Qu Zhizheng took second for "12 Moments Before the Flag-Raising Ceremony," while Japan's Miki Tanaka and Estonia's Natalia Mirzoyan shared third. The winning films screen at Paris's Cinema du Pantheon on June 6. The film marks Korea's second selection this year alongside animator Jung Yu-mi's "Glasses" in Critics' Week. No Korean feature film made it into the festival's lineup this year. La Cinef, formerly Cinefondation, serves as the festival's dedicated platform for student films. It selects 15-20 short and medium-length films annually from film schools around the world. Korean entries have appeared regularly since 2001, with several securing runner-up and third-place positions. Most recently, Hwang Hye-in's thriller "Hole" won second prize in 2023. Yoon Dae-won's "Cicada" also took second place in 2021.
