This year marks the 50th anniversary of Heavenly Homecoming to Stars, directed by Lee Jang-ho, one of the landmark movies that defined the 1970s. Half a century later, is the movie still relevant?

The 1970s were a brutal period in South Korea. The authoritarian government, led by the late President Park, a former military general, wielded Orwellian levels of control and surveillance in the name of anti-communism and economic growth. Democracy, human rights, diversity, and individualism were hardly on the government’s agenda, let alone priorities. Against this dismal backdrop, Heavenly Homecoming to Stars was released to adoring audiences in 1974, becoming one of the most successful films in the history of Korean cinema. But has it stood the test of time? Can it still captivate viewers as it once did? What elements of the film have endured, and which have not survived the changing tastes?

Cool Soundtrack

The soundtrack of the film still sounds cool. Full of the 70s vibe of youth culture, hippie spirit, and folk music, which evolved from its original influences—such as Don McLean, Bob Dylan, and Joan Baez—into something distinctly Korean, the music pulsates with the two main characters, Kyung-a and Mun-oh, as they meander through life aimlessly, clinging only to each other. Lee Jang-hee, a pioneer of Korean folk music, wrote and performed the songs alongside guitarist Kang Geun-sik. True to the style of Korean folk music, the score features beautiful melodies, sometimes tweaked to sound like atonal jazz, filling scenes in bars, clubs, and music cafés frequented by this struggling couple. The title song, “Love Theme,” was a great hit on the charts, though some might find it a bit too sweet.

Saint-Maiden

A controversy surrounding the film was the nickname given by the media to Kyung-a: “saint-maiden.” In Korean, the word for “saint” has the same pronunciation as “sex,” so “saint-maiden” could be a cynical wordplay, labeling Kyung-a as a whore. Kyung-a, from a decent family, is forced to quit school and find a job after her father’s sudden death. Her descent into hardship—becoming a waitress in a beer hall, the kept woman of a borderline masochist, an erotic photography model, and eventually selling herself for a quick drink—begins when a man tricks her into bed with a promise of marriage, only to abandon her and leave her on the surgeon’s table for an abortion.

Some critics suggest that Kyung-a’s misfortune illustrates the limited life choices available to women: either within the family system, accessed only through birth and marriage, or outside of it. Her dire situation showcases the consequences of being cast out of this system. The nickname “saint-maiden” might be seen as an attempt to celebrate Kyung-a as a woman freed from the conventions where a woman’s virtue is valued only in the context of marriage. However, it is actually a shameless expression of male fantasy, reducing women to mere bodies meant to satisfy carnal desires. This had the effect of pushing a woman, detached from the family system, into a fantasy realm. The nickname ‘saint-maiden’ would not fare well in 2024.

Innocence as a Form of Resistance

Mun-oh is a part-time art teacher at a university, barely making a living without his parents’ financial support. Yet he seems to live in a bubble, free from the pressures of real-life responsibilities or choices. He exists in a child-like psychological state, where his inward search for perfect love to rebuild his ego overshadows any other concerns. He appears cool, detached, aloof, and even fearless. Some might see his detachment and fearlessness as a false sense of invincibility found in boys before adulthood. However, viewers of the film saw it as a form of resistance to the controlling state. Acting young, innocent, and even foolish was the only smart way to express contempt for and reveal the absurdity of the oppressive regime. This myth of the “wise fool” was kept alive in films like The March of Fools (1975), Hunting of Fools (1984), and Whale Hunting (1984). However, characters like Mun-oh have become rare, probably because filmmakers and audiences alike have realized that acting silly is not enough to navigate the complexities of today’s world.

Heavenly Homecoming to Stars left an indelible mark on Korean cinema. Although it has aged badly, particularly regarding its view of women and their roles in family and society, it brought female sexuality to the forefront, created a new character archetype—the wise fool—and showed the potential of a good soundtrack as an integral part of a movie. One can only wonder how it will be viewed in another ten years.