Jo is 98. Kang is 89. An elderly couple of modest means living in a mountain village, they have been married for 76 years. Even now, they are playful. They are devoted. They have never been more in love. But age is inexorable, and as the days tick away at least one of them is going to cross the river. My Love Don't Cross That River wasn't supposed to be a blockbuster, but it was a smash hit, knocking Interstellar out of the top spot week after week, and becoming the highest grossing Korean documentary of all time, the highest-grossing Korean independent movie of all time, and the best love story of the 2010's (Sorry, A Fault in Our Stars.)

They may be pushing a century, but Jo and Kang still know how to have fun, picking sunflowers for each other's hair in spring, clowning around amidst the falling leaves in autumn, having snowball fights in winter. "I look old and gray but you haven't aged a day," Kang marvels, but the weight of encroaching of time is clear. Their lives are encapsulated in a series of simple, beautiful moments: a weathered hand caressing a face, buying baby clothes for the children they never got to raise. You'll never see another love story like it; you can only hope to be lucky enough to live it.