Three O'Clock on a Rainy Afternoon: A Love Pentagon

Three O'Clock on a Rainy Afternoon is one of those tragic romances that's so fraught it seems likely that someone might kill themselves while listening to opera. The only question is who? The Korean-American war correspondent (Lee Min) whose bride abandons him before the honeymoon? The violin player who unknowingly crushes on his best friend? The young woman (Kim Ji-mee) who's promised herself to two possible husbands? The homegrown veteran (Choi Mu-ryong) with severe depression and a cane? The undergraduate music student who seems to fall for everyone while no one really cares? Oh yes, there's a lot of frustration in this love pentagon. But as to leaping into oblivion, as one character puts it, "I was too weak-willed to go through with it."

There's also a lot of Western references in director Park Jong-ho's heartbreaker circa 1959: a jazz band at the army barracks, another one at The Pagoda nightclub, a ballet company doing pas de deux, a music class with a few bobbysoxers, some wedding vows spoken in English, and a professed proficiency in the cha-cha. They've even adopted one truly unsettling American ethic in this post-war Korea. Per one drunken, former G.I.: "I miss the battlefields on a night like this. When I felt frustrated, I would point my gun at the enemy. After a round of firing, my heart would feel much lighter." Gun therapy! (And yes, this is the type of guy who would take a slug a woman... and does.) Soon enough, you're no longer wondering if one of these character is going to slit wrists and taking bets on which one might pull out a pistol and shoot another in a fit of passion. Well, someone does die. But not in that way either.