My Punch Drunk Boxer is a calm film, moving at a pace as idyllic as the seaside town it is set in. It is a letter to times almost forgotten, the air of remembrance present in the smallest of details. You see almost no digital devices, the clothing is generic enough to be timeless and within each character, you find hints of yearning for the prime that they lack.

From Min Ji still confused about life, Gyo Hwan pushing forward for his and the forgotten past of Byeonggu and Director Park, you get a sense of listlessness that seeps into every scene.

The editing is choppy at times, so choppy that it has to be intentional, often coinciding with moments we see Byeonggu’s condition deteriorates. The sudden, confusing cuts mirror his own perception and provide a look into his mind. Indeed, Byeonggu and Director Park are the only characters granted with a clear point of view, the two who are in a time that is not theirs.

The simple but effective cinematography captures both, the sense of a forgotten place and the turmoil of the characters. Many wide shots are used, the action occupying only a small portion of the frame while life goes on around the characters. Even the last shot of the film is seen from a distance and even though only two are present, they are too far away to connect with. Close ups are reserved for heightened moments and often only for Byeonggu.

The colour palette also lends into the emotions. For ordinary scenes outside the gym, the colouring is often realistic and chaotic. The scenes in the gym are almost the same but surrounded by warm yellow that makes it seem oddly nostalgic - as if the gym almost exists in sepia

It is during the most emotional scenes that the palette narrows down drastically - from opening sequence, the confession in Min Ji’s room, the final conversation in the gym and the last match, the colours become unreal. Saturated. The palette becomes darker ans focused and you just know that something important is about to happen.

From the incorporation of traditional music, the emptiness in the boxing world and our forgetting and forgotten hero, this film dwells in the past without the wistful happiness of nostalgia. Far from perfect, it is just a peek into the feeling of fading away.

You get the crux about midway, in a scene where Byeonggu speaks to himself about his grandfather and how forgot himself. Every moment aches for something long gone because the biggest tragedy here is not forgetting or being forgotten but rather knowing that you are forgetting and being forgotten.

The performances are delightfully restrained and the cast works well together, speaking naturally with a certain ease. All in all, a good film to watch on a rainy day.