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Once again on the purpose and role of fiction. Whether it is about a book or a movie, or whatever else.

This is the movie that won the prize at a local festival about independent and experimental movies. The translation of the motivations of the prize:

With his feature-length debut movie the young Korean director Jang Kun-jae transforms a private page of his sentimental education into a fresh, pleasant and audaciously sincere tale. The pain, melancholy, helplessness of a small amorous catastrophe narrated through the fond vertigo of a lost age, not yet removed from his memory. For the two protagonists of the story being eighteen represents the most lacerating of the seasons of life. The first act of a past that can't be left behind. A past that one can let go through the therapy of cinema.

My comment: take "In the Mood for Love" by Wong Kar-wai. This is an unpretentious adolescent version, extremely blunt and sincere, yet delicate. It leaves you with a similar kind of hollow, haunting feeling. Also, a real story.

Another journey in the search for meaning. These types of movies can really stab through your heart and leave it bleeding.