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This review may contain spoilers
Four Minutes to Live a Lifetime
There is a saying: "Death is a strange thing. People live their whole lives as if it doesn't exist, yet it's one of the most important reasons to be alive." We don't contemplate death for the sake of dying, but to live more profoundly. The closer one gets to death, the more one truly lives—in a way one has never lived before, the way life is truly meant to be lived.
4 Minutes conveys a message that is both simple and timeless: live a meaningful life, don't wait until death comes knocking to truly feel alive. Cherish everything in the present. Life (often hidden in the shadow of death) will always greet you with opportunities, but no one can change the past. The only thing you can change is yourself.
I honestly wonder if having read reviews and knowing the premise of 4 Minutes beforehand was a blessing or a curse. Because I knew the direction of the story, I could better understand the filmmakers' intentions, and the narrative flow felt clearer. While it sacrificed an element of surprise, the smaller details within the film were still enough to leave me reeling. Knowing that the first five episodes represented the four minutes where Great’s brain relived his life after his heart had stopped allowed me to piece together his story more clearly and better comprehend this character who is far from being purely righteous. It also made me all the more astonished by the multifaceted nature of Tyme, a character I had initially pegged as a hero.
As some reviews have noted, no character in this film is simple or innocent. Hit-and-runs, disposing of bodies, secret recordings, murder, adultery, manipulation, exploitation, schemes and conspiracies, breaking the law and denying guilt—and yet, strangely, this is what allowed me to watch the film as if I were observing a human experiment. All the sins are magnified to a level of complexity. The human mind is not a flat screen, and these are not archetypes or one-dimensional plot devices acting "righteously" because they are protagonists, or acting villainously because they are antagonists. These are people who carry sin, as people always have. They cannot wash away what they have done; every action has irreversible consequences. What they can do is purify who they are—first in their minds, which then leads to action.
The characters in 4 Minutes are profoundly, ordinarily human. Great is a coward, fleeing the consequences of his actions after an accident (regardless of whether the victim intended suicide) and not daring to report his "friend" after witnessing him commit murder. He is numb to the pain of others because he has become numb to himself. Then there is Tyme, so blinded by vengeance that his entire purpose in life is reduced to it. His path leads to a single destination, causing him to ignore everything around him—emotions, reason, and the small wonders of this life. And we have the weak, compromising, and pragmatic Korn; the broken and frenzied Tonkla; and Win—the supposed barrel of justice, who still surrenders to the one he loves (even if it was love at first sight). All of them, these spiritually flawed individuals covered in scars and past traumas, carry their regrets as they cross paths, weaving together a suffocating, insane, and unpredictably dramatic tapestry.
It's said that "red flags" and "toxicity" in fiction can bring a certain vicarious pleasure, allowing us to experience feelings we'd never want for ourselves—to hurt with the characters, go mad with them, and love as fiercely and intensely as they do. This "toxicity" is no accident; it is a deliberate narrative device used to explore deep psychological territories and create high-stakes drama. It’s strange how humans are fascinated by our own dark side, often without even realizing it. Through this toxicity, we witness psychological trauma and internal conflict, which then allows us to observe the process of redemption and transformation in each character, leading to a conclusion that achieves emotional catharsis. Naturally, what viewers want most is a fulfilling ending, to see the change in these fallen characters.
I must say, the script of 4 Minutes stays true to its course. This doesn't make the film predictable; on the contrary, it makes it more complete. The timeline is non-linear and constantly shifting—it begins with the characters' "rebirth," follows their redemption from their own perspectives, then guides us to the objective reality of a "God's eye view," and finally concludes in a "next life," a timeline where they have been wholly reborn as different people.
Redemption, rebirth, life and death, second chances, love that saves and love that gives meaning—it is all the story of a single moment that lasts for four minutes. The entire narrative is told within this elasticity of time: Great's four minutes stretch across five episodes, the return to reality from an objective viewpoint takes one episode, Tyme's story gets one, and the final episode is for the conclusion. In my opinion, even if the film has its flaws, leaving some questions and plot holes, its narrative structure and pacing, contracting and expanding within just 8 episodes, is an incredibly impressive and commendable feat. The unique arrangement of the timeline, combined with a fresh storytelling approach for an already novel plot and theme, truly wowed me in a sea of formulaic dramas. The editing, cinematography, sound, and lighting are all polished and well-crafted. The script is well-invested, with symbolic imagery like time and the number 4 recurring with artistic intent. The narrative is compelling, and the climactic scenes are deeply emotional. Furthermore, the explicit scenes, which cater to the genre's audience, are bold and impactful, yet never gratuitous. These scenes carry their own meaning, though their "eye-popping" direction might lead some to think this is purely a "flesh-fest." For instance, the love scene between Great and Tyme during the 4-minute revival reflects their true feelings: for Great, it's the confirmation of his love in a parallel universe where he is a good person, a hero on Tyme's side, earning his recognition—this is what Great yearns for in his final moments, a chance to atone, to start over, expressing his regrets. For Tyme, it's a life not defined by the smell of blood and dust from the past, not consumed by hatred, but filled with sunshine, peace, and a gentle, melodious love. This stands in stark contrast to their lovemaking in reality, which begins with conspiracy, is stained by hatred and torment, where love never truly offers them solace.
That's my assessment of the main couple. The side couple's story is a bit harder to grasp and left me with some questions. For example, if the first part is purely Great's 4-minute dream, even if from various dream-like perspectives (first, second, third person), how could he describe in detail things he couldn't have known? Or was an omniscient narrator's voice interwoven with Great's POV from the start, penetrating all characters, inside and out, showing us reality? And how does Dome's return lead back to the present? Or are we, the viewers, also being led by an unreliable narrator—the director himself? This ambiguity and a few scattered, almost surreal puzzle pieces can make the film feel a bit chaotic. But ultimately, grounding the story in a scientific premise and exploring such a new theme is a fascinating direction, showcasing an effort to create something more than just another run-of-the-mill rom-com.
Lastly, I truly want to affirm how fortunate I feel to have watched this film on a whim, amidst a forest of criticism and some surrounding controversies. My own moral compass isn't the yardstick I use to measure a film. I want to see it from a deeper, darker, even amoral perspective—because good and evil are intertwined. To borrow from literature, as Georges Bataille suggested, when humans violate the established rules and prohibitions of organized society, they are, to some extent, marked by evil. Literature that writes about things beyond the pale of reason is considered to be writing about evil.
"Goodness is tedious, for it is bland
Goodness is trivial, for it is safe
Goodness is wicked, for it murders passion
Are you afraid of goodness?
And you?
What about you?
Have you ever been as repulsed by goodness as you are by evil?"
(translated from Mưa Nhã Nam - Nguyễn Huy Thiệp)
P/S: The actors are truly talented. To appreciate this film, you have to look past couple shipping and fan service. I'm not comparing or judging any pairings; I'm watching it as a standalone work. What attracted me and earned my highest praise was the novelty and uniqueness of the narrative above all else; the romance was secondary.
4 Minutes conveys a message that is both simple and timeless: live a meaningful life, don't wait until death comes knocking to truly feel alive. Cherish everything in the present. Life (often hidden in the shadow of death) will always greet you with opportunities, but no one can change the past. The only thing you can change is yourself.
I honestly wonder if having read reviews and knowing the premise of 4 Minutes beforehand was a blessing or a curse. Because I knew the direction of the story, I could better understand the filmmakers' intentions, and the narrative flow felt clearer. While it sacrificed an element of surprise, the smaller details within the film were still enough to leave me reeling. Knowing that the first five episodes represented the four minutes where Great’s brain relived his life after his heart had stopped allowed me to piece together his story more clearly and better comprehend this character who is far from being purely righteous. It also made me all the more astonished by the multifaceted nature of Tyme, a character I had initially pegged as a hero.
As some reviews have noted, no character in this film is simple or innocent. Hit-and-runs, disposing of bodies, secret recordings, murder, adultery, manipulation, exploitation, schemes and conspiracies, breaking the law and denying guilt—and yet, strangely, this is what allowed me to watch the film as if I were observing a human experiment. All the sins are magnified to a level of complexity. The human mind is not a flat screen, and these are not archetypes or one-dimensional plot devices acting "righteously" because they are protagonists, or acting villainously because they are antagonists. These are people who carry sin, as people always have. They cannot wash away what they have done; every action has irreversible consequences. What they can do is purify who they are—first in their minds, which then leads to action.
The characters in 4 Minutes are profoundly, ordinarily human. Great is a coward, fleeing the consequences of his actions after an accident (regardless of whether the victim intended suicide) and not daring to report his "friend" after witnessing him commit murder. He is numb to the pain of others because he has become numb to himself. Then there is Tyme, so blinded by vengeance that his entire purpose in life is reduced to it. His path leads to a single destination, causing him to ignore everything around him—emotions, reason, and the small wonders of this life. And we have the weak, compromising, and pragmatic Korn; the broken and frenzied Tonkla; and Win—the supposed barrel of justice, who still surrenders to the one he loves (even if it was love at first sight). All of them, these spiritually flawed individuals covered in scars and past traumas, carry their regrets as they cross paths, weaving together a suffocating, insane, and unpredictably dramatic tapestry.
It's said that "red flags" and "toxicity" in fiction can bring a certain vicarious pleasure, allowing us to experience feelings we'd never want for ourselves—to hurt with the characters, go mad with them, and love as fiercely and intensely as they do. This "toxicity" is no accident; it is a deliberate narrative device used to explore deep psychological territories and create high-stakes drama. It’s strange how humans are fascinated by our own dark side, often without even realizing it. Through this toxicity, we witness psychological trauma and internal conflict, which then allows us to observe the process of redemption and transformation in each character, leading to a conclusion that achieves emotional catharsis. Naturally, what viewers want most is a fulfilling ending, to see the change in these fallen characters.
I must say, the script of 4 Minutes stays true to its course. This doesn't make the film predictable; on the contrary, it makes it more complete. The timeline is non-linear and constantly shifting—it begins with the characters' "rebirth," follows their redemption from their own perspectives, then guides us to the objective reality of a "God's eye view," and finally concludes in a "next life," a timeline where they have been wholly reborn as different people.
Redemption, rebirth, life and death, second chances, love that saves and love that gives meaning—it is all the story of a single moment that lasts for four minutes. The entire narrative is told within this elasticity of time: Great's four minutes stretch across five episodes, the return to reality from an objective viewpoint takes one episode, Tyme's story gets one, and the final episode is for the conclusion. In my opinion, even if the film has its flaws, leaving some questions and plot holes, its narrative structure and pacing, contracting and expanding within just 8 episodes, is an incredibly impressive and commendable feat. The unique arrangement of the timeline, combined with a fresh storytelling approach for an already novel plot and theme, truly wowed me in a sea of formulaic dramas. The editing, cinematography, sound, and lighting are all polished and well-crafted. The script is well-invested, with symbolic imagery like time and the number 4 recurring with artistic intent. The narrative is compelling, and the climactic scenes are deeply emotional. Furthermore, the explicit scenes, which cater to the genre's audience, are bold and impactful, yet never gratuitous. These scenes carry their own meaning, though their "eye-popping" direction might lead some to think this is purely a "flesh-fest." For instance, the love scene between Great and Tyme during the 4-minute revival reflects their true feelings: for Great, it's the confirmation of his love in a parallel universe where he is a good person, a hero on Tyme's side, earning his recognition—this is what Great yearns for in his final moments, a chance to atone, to start over, expressing his regrets. For Tyme, it's a life not defined by the smell of blood and dust from the past, not consumed by hatred, but filled with sunshine, peace, and a gentle, melodious love. This stands in stark contrast to their lovemaking in reality, which begins with conspiracy, is stained by hatred and torment, where love never truly offers them solace.
That's my assessment of the main couple. The side couple's story is a bit harder to grasp and left me with some questions. For example, if the first part is purely Great's 4-minute dream, even if from various dream-like perspectives (first, second, third person), how could he describe in detail things he couldn't have known? Or was an omniscient narrator's voice interwoven with Great's POV from the start, penetrating all characters, inside and out, showing us reality? And how does Dome's return lead back to the present? Or are we, the viewers, also being led by an unreliable narrator—the director himself? This ambiguity and a few scattered, almost surreal puzzle pieces can make the film feel a bit chaotic. But ultimately, grounding the story in a scientific premise and exploring such a new theme is a fascinating direction, showcasing an effort to create something more than just another run-of-the-mill rom-com.
Lastly, I truly want to affirm how fortunate I feel to have watched this film on a whim, amidst a forest of criticism and some surrounding controversies. My own moral compass isn't the yardstick I use to measure a film. I want to see it from a deeper, darker, even amoral perspective—because good and evil are intertwined. To borrow from literature, as Georges Bataille suggested, when humans violate the established rules and prohibitions of organized society, they are, to some extent, marked by evil. Literature that writes about things beyond the pale of reason is considered to be writing about evil.
"Goodness is tedious, for it is bland
Goodness is trivial, for it is safe
Goodness is wicked, for it murders passion
Are you afraid of goodness?
And you?
What about you?
Have you ever been as repulsed by goodness as you are by evil?"
(translated from Mưa Nhã Nam - Nguyễn Huy Thiệp)
P/S: The actors are truly talented. To appreciate this film, you have to look past couple shipping and fan service. I'm not comparing or judging any pairings; I'm watching it as a standalone work. What attracted me and earned my highest praise was the novelty and uniqueness of the narrative above all else; the romance was secondary.
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