“For those who seek cinema in the fleeting moments of life, The Day She Returns is a treat.”

Hong Sang-soo returns once again to his familiar, monochromatic world — this time with an even deeper sense of simple self-love and self-acceptance. Hong’s films always bring familiar locations and signature camera work, yet every time they evoke a new emotion, a new realization. It is an emotion that resonates with all of us; a voice within that whispers, “Ah, this is it.” Premiering at the 2026 Berlin Film Festival, his latest work The Day She Returns proves yet again why he is the undisputed king of minimalism and the poet of the everyday.
The story follows Bae Jeongsu (played by the luminous Song Seon-mi), who has recently finished shooting an independent film and is now participating in a series of interviews. Within each interview we find glimpses of ourselves. Simple, genuine emotions recur throughout these conversations, woven together by common threads: the act of loving oneself, the difficult process of acceptance, and the quiet, almost radical pursuit of wellness in the smallest of ways. It is a film that doesn’t demand your attention through spectacle, but earns it through radical honesty.
Hong Sang-soo never misses a beat. His signature zoom-in — the hallmark of his style — is vividly present here, acting as a punctuation mark in a sea of soulful dialogue. The first interview is a masterful 17-minute long take, where the camera zooms in only once in that quintessential Hong Sang-soo style that we can’t help but adore. Each interview unfolds in these long takes, allowing us to fully immerse ourselves in the emotions, the heavy silences, and the physical spaces in between. We lose ourselves in them completely, becoming an invisible witness at the table.
While we are used to seeing soju flow in his films, this time the setting shifts the palette, and we see German beer instead. Coffee, beer, and casual conversations — as always, they are the vessels for discovery rather than mere props. Through these small interactions, we realize how easily life can be viewed through a simpler lens if we only let go of our baggage. As Song Seon-mi says in the first interview: “All interpretations ultimately lead to anxiety. If you can see things as they are, then you can actually experience real peace.” It feels like a holy shower for the soul, washing away the clutter of modern over-analysis.
It is impossible not to fall in love with Hong’s writing. The simple way in which he presents everything is truly astonishing. He captures the wholeness of life, refusing to look away from the parts that aren’t traditionally beautiful. In the second interview, one line hits particularly hard: “How can we maintain an innocent face, when our souls are in tatters?” This question lingers, challenging the audience to look inward.
Sometimes I feel Hong’s films take me to a place where I’ve always wanted to be, but could never reach physically. For those who seek cinema in the fleeting moments of life, The Day She Returns is a treat. There is no complex plot, no loud crescendos — the film flows like a calm afternoon sun setting over a quiet street. When Song Seon-mi admits, “I refuse fake love in my life,” one feels that perhaps the only response to life itself is a quiet, knowing “Cheers.”
(c) Image copyright – Jeonwonsa Film