A meta-meet-cute diptych from the prolific South Korean auteur Hong Sang-soo, RIGHT NOW, WRONG THEN is set within two days and one night in the town of Suwon, an acclaimed art house filmmaker, Ham Cheon-soo (Jeong) is scheduled to give a lecture before the screening of his latest work, but he arrives one day earlier, and serendipity leads him fall in with Yoon Hee-jeong (Kim), a local young painter inside a Buddhist temple. Struck by coup de foudre, Cheon-soo tentatively asks Hee-jeong for coffee together, and she eventually agrees (on the pretense that what an honor to be accosted by such a famed directer). Chronologically from the coffee shop, to her atelier, then a sushi diner until a small gathering with Hee-jeong's friends in the night, the pair begins to know better of each other through their courteous small-talk and it is sheer in Hong's wheelhouse when he patiently employs static frames and long-takes (with sonorous music cues) to elicit the polite but tangible awkwardness between two strangers shaping up an incipient acquaintance, constantly using racking focus to point up every subtle variation of their emotions (which leans more towards Hee-jeong since she is the reactive one in the courtship), and also on the strength of two leading players' deceptively ad-libbing naturalism, consequentially, it creates an ensorcelling aura in defiance of the banal pleasantries as if we were watching a situation which would actualizes itself the next morning in front of our own eyes. When the evening ends with an anticlimactic revelation and Cheon-soo is assailed by hangover and gall during his lecture the morning after, the movie starts anew, right in the midstream and we are miraculously transferred back to the beginning and what we have watched hitherto is expunged, but with the fresh foreknowledge in our head, to watching the same narrative panning out ex nihilo but in a slightly different trajectory is a mesmerizing process, not the least if we are intrigued to discern their behavioral niceties. In the second round, Cheon-soo modulates his insincere propriety into an attitude larded with more honesty, both about his genuine feelings to Hee-jeong and to her artwork, no gobbledygook trying to patronizing her, his blunt opinion might be a flea in her ear, but in its own merit, it at least proves to her that he is not a pseud as in the first half. Also Cheon-soo reveals his marriage status in the diner sequences, where Jeong Jae-yeong tops off the protracted long-take with a stirring confession that mounts to a tremendous tour-de-force in this reviewer's eyes. How many times one can experience that sensational feeling of falling in love so completely and helplessly, to those entrapped in the insensate impasse of middle-age, which becomes a blossoming opportunity they can hardly decline. It is more telling and ironic that Hong Sang-soo and Kim Min-hee actually precipitate an extramarital affair ignited by their first collaboration, and therefore she has become his muse both in his fiction work and in real life. The second half (now) redresses what goes awry in the first one (then), and it reaches a warm and earnest coda, where Cheon-soo successfully lures her into watching his film, because up to that point, Hee-jeong has never watched any of them, a leg-pull of Hong's own repute as an internationally celebrated name whose filmography is more heard in circulation than actually being watched by the common herd. Unpretentiously accessibly and tipsily lifelike, by and large Hong Sang-soo's RIGHT NOW, WRONG THEN is a prepossessing conversation piece with an ingenious conceptual wheeze which cogently puts him on the map for cinephiles all around the globe.

This film shows how it would be like to have a do over when it comes to our romantic interest. You know those times when you met someone you have that moment with and ask yourself what it would have been like if you did things differently. Because you missed out on the chance, because you couldn't be more honest with yourself or be more bold with the situation. That is what this film is, it's basically the fantasy of Hong Sang-soo in my opinion. It's like he wrote this whole script for the actress in his film played by Kim Min-hee. The plot is about a introverted and married director falling for a female artist and thus somewhat realistic but mundane conversations ensues. You know the conversations that ensues between introverts at a bar. Actually you can walk into just about any restaurant in Korea with alcohol at night and you can hear similar conversations as this one. The director Hong Sang-soo actually had an affair with the actress in this film. Like the actual plot itself, he is a married man as well. Despite the director showcasing this as an artistic indie film I just couldn't see much artistic merits with this one. It was like watching introverted people having mundane conversations with one another. I am a introvert but even I couldn't find anything interesting about the conversation between the two. Like I said watching this was like watching a fantasy movie for the director Hong Sang-soo.5/10

Right Now, Wrong Then is a film of two distinct halves. In 2 days of the life of a filmmaker, Ham Cheon-soo, in town a day early for a screening of his latest work at a local film festival. He meets a younger woman, Yoon Hee-Jeong, and immediately falls for her. She's an artist, and he views and comments on her work, then they go out to dinner where they drunkenly bear their souls. It results in an invitation to a friend's small party where a revelation embarrasses Ham to the point where they part ways on a sour note. He attends his film to a small crowd, conducts a hungover Q&A, and retires, walking away from the town for good. Roll title card "Right Now" rather than "Right Then." The film literally repeats from the beginning, erasing the first half. Like Groundhog Day but only a once-over, we get every scene again but from a slightly different wishful approach.This second time the couple are honest, unlike the first time where Ham tries too hard to impress and Yoon retreats. Again, they fall in love, but given Ham admits to already being married, their feelings are mutual and emotional without being sexual. He may embarrass himself once more at the aforementioned dinner, but it does not result in a cruel parting, instead drawing them closer. It's a quaint experiment given the relaxed tone. The first half on its own is not a movie, and neither is the second. They're co-dependent to give the narrative meaning, but it's far from cinematic in tone. It's a filmmaker's revisionism of what could have been a perfect evening had the characters acted suitably. It's honest, rather than romantic – though the chemistry still bubbles in the air – and it's utterly bittersweet, in a similar vein to Before Sunrise, but strictly not Before Sunset. It's my first film from Korean director Hong Sang-soo and ostensibly from his fans and critics, Right Now Wrong Then is firmly his style – including the Woody Allen-esque romance between an older creative similar to the director himself, and a pretty younger woman. The atmosphere is very modest with simple photography, though Sang-soo does punctuate some scenes with careful zooms. It's very easy-going filmmaking, and its concept makes the second half easier to watch because you know exactly where it's heading as it retraces steps while you have a sharp eye out for the subtle changes that make all the differences, but it doesn't beg you to keep an eye on every detail. Those differences aren't grandstanding though the narrative is clearly motivated by them. Sometimes a scene will repeat its approach entirely despite the previous scene being radically revised. It's trying to be very nuanced rather than having a 'sliding doors/butterfly effect' where causality makes the universe shift places. Instead, the outcome isn't much different but the overall feeling is utterly converted. It's all down to the performances of its two leads, Jeong Jae-Yeong and Kim Min-Hee, to create that tone with their chemistry, who were most likely shooting both halves back to back, location by location. In both halves, Ham is still a jerk with a kind of irritating laugh, but all the characters are deeply human even if Sang-soo doesn't peel back their layers every time. There's a big heart buried in its very slight execution. However, Right Now Wrong Then is not necessarily about how honesty is a better policy – though Ham's harsh analysis of Hee-Jeong's art in the second half remains a sting that takes a long time to settle – but it's about how it's possible to love again. In this case, love doesn't have to be a complete turbulous affair, but it can still be a fulfilling and life-affirming night if approached accordingly.8/10

I've been a fan of Sang-soo for some years yet his frustrating insistence to continually repeat himself is now annoying me. Sure you can guarantee failed romance and time wasted drunk in korean bars in Sang-soo films and I'm fine with that in theory.The problem I have is that everything else once you've seen a few just seems so repetitive as well... Ie the kinds of creative characters he chooses to portray, the form of the films, the dynamics between characters, the voice over narration, I could go on and on. In totality, they are just far far too repetitive for me. I was absolutely fine with all this until this film. For me this film was like the product of a once great now semi-senile 90 year old director just repeating himself after a golden age of great films decades before.He really is starting to make the decrepit Woody Allen look original! I'll probably watch the next Sang-soo film that comes out as well but with a lot more caution not expecting much.