Virtual Reality=Alternative Reality?

Death is inevitable, but how to deal with it is varies from person to person. The coronavirus pandemic, for instance, has recently led to a spike in zoom funeral since people need the virtual space for interactions. This change raises some questions: What if you could reunite with your loved ones in virtual reality?

This proposal may not appeal to everyone. Yet Jang Ji-sung, who lost her daughter to blood cancer in 2016, accepted the chance to see her daughter again, although it was just in VR. Their reunion forms the narrative climax in the South Korean TV documentary Meeting You, which was produced by one of South Korea’s largest broadcasters with 6 studios. The video started with the little girl playing hide-and-seek. The mother with tears running down her face, attempting reached out to her, attempting to stroke the daughter’s hair. In the real world, Jang stood in front of the studio’s green screen, wearing a virtual reality headset and touch-sensitive gloves, her daughter’s ashes in a locket around her neck. Often the camera cut to Jang’s husband and three of their surviving daughters, brushing away tears.

As a reaction to human death, technological resurrection is a classic trope of literature and science fiction but most of the time is in a dystopian context. For example, in Black Mirror’s “Be Right Back” episode, a mourning widow uses social media accounts of her deceased husband to make an A.I version of her husband. However, it is hard to compare our fascination for cinema as an art form with our limited understanding of virtual reality. Unlike how sci-fi plays with the ideas of a possible reality, the VR daughter is an attempt to recreation a different reality. The makers of the documentary claimed it was intended to “console the family” rather than promote the new technology in South Korea. The technology presented a “new way to keep loved ones in memory.” My reaction to this project probably on the skeptical side. VR Nayeon was intentionally made to act like a child but she was actually controlled by a team of adults. I felt manipulated rather than impressed. Next is the question: it’s “good” to make a realistic project that can blur the line between reality and illusion? The documentary toggles between this studio view and what Jang sees in her headset, and a composite version where Jang interacts with her VR daughter so the viewer can separate the reality and virtual world. But for a grieving mother, it’s not necessarily clear. To me, this experience does not seem to be a healthy way of coping with loss: holding on and unable to let go. Perhaps until the novelty of VR is over, its attempts at realism will no longer be met with skepticism but for now, I still keep my skepticism.