Even If This Love Disappears From the World Tonight: Can Memory Keep Love Alive?

Even If This Love Disappears From the World Tonight is a slow-burn drama with a touching edge. Released in 2025 in South Korea and directed by Kim Hye-young, the film adapts the Japanese novel by Misaki Ichijo and is available globally on Netflix.

Starring Choo Young-woo and Shin Si-ah, the story follows Han Seo-yun, a student suffering from anterograde amnesia. Every time she falls asleep, she loses all memories of the previous day and must reconstruct her life daily through notes and journals. This condition was the result of a car accident, which the film only briefly mentions.

Her routine changes when she unexpectedly begins a relationship with Kim Jae-won, an ordinary young man who gradually reorganizes his own life around her. The romance blossoms under a unique condition: loving someone who must learn to love all over again every single day. The film walks a fine line and avoids falling into pure melodrama or constant tension; instead, it suggests that love can survive even when memory fails.

International critics recognize this delicacy as the greatest strength of the work. Many reviewers highlighted the refusal to turn tragedy into a spectacle, preferring a slow pace centered on small gestures and a shared routine. At the same time, some critics mention the predictability of the script because the narrative follows well-known paths of romantic melodrama. This might alienate viewers seeking something more groundbreaking or a bolder narrative style.

Even If This Love Disappears From the World Tonight occupies a curious space by exploring the idea that love does not need to last to be meaningful. The work transforms forgetting into a narrative language and quietly asks whether loving is still worth it when we know everything might vanish.

In the Pixar and Disney film Coco, this idea was beautifully explored through the concept that people stay alive as long as we remember them.

In this film, the ending reaffirms that premise. However, throughout the first two acts, we are primarily immersed in the struggle of Han Seo-yun to retain memory. We see her suffering from the knowledge that, upon waking, she will not remember the boy she likes or the good times spent with him and their friends.

We are forced to wonder how she will mature, study, or graduate if she cannot retain information. After all, we are the sum of what we live, representing a blend of genetics and experiences gathered throughout our journey on Earth.

When the lens shifts to Kim Jae-won, it happens in a way that is subtle yet significant. We see his concern for his father, a widower who remains withdrawn and unable to form new bonds. Initially, it may seem like simple filial concern, but the film drops clues that eventually clarify the true reason behind the anxiety of the young man.

Had the director opted for a more understated or implied revelation here, the third-act twist might have been even more impactful, though equally heartbreaking.

Despite this, the plot twist remains unique because it prompts us to reflect on how memory keeps those we love alive within us once they are gone. In the absence of a physical presence, memory is all we have left. When those memories fade, the people disappear with them.

The lead couple is charming, and you will certainly find yourself rooting for Han Seo-yun’s condition not to be an insurmountable barrier. Kim Jae-won has the goodwill to understand, learn, and patiently adapt to her routine, giving her the space to get used to their relationship anew every day.

Alongside friends, he keeps the clinical condition of the girl a secret. Notably, a friend of Han explains one of the reasons for this secrecy involves the dangers a woman might face if society knows she will forget everything done to her once she sleeps. In other words, the next day, she would not remember any malice or abuse.

This specific detail has not been tackled in similar works. Although it is handled very subtly here and is not the main focus, I found it an interesting point to raise.

For me, however, the greatest merit of the film is questioning the relationship between love and memory.

When someone ordinary leaves this world without leaving descendants, what remains is how they impacted those around them. But what if the person meant to keep that memory alive is the very person who cannot retain information?

Is love like a muscle memory that does not fully fragment? Or is love something even greater that even forgetting cannot erase?

Films like Coco, 50 First Dates, and The Vow (the latter inspired by a true story) have already told us that love is a force that breaks through this kind of blackout.

But are there enough happy cases in reality to make us truly believe it?

It is worth watching if you are looking for a good cry and a coherent, though not entirely happy, ending.

Since the film prepares the viewer for what is coming, it will not be a total shock. However, be aware that this is the direction the story takes. Although the plot runs like a classic and lighthearted romance until the third act, do not expect a perfect happy ending.

Rating: 3.9/5.

So, do you believe love can survive despite forgetting?