In 1978, North Korean dictator Kim Jong-il kidnapped South Korean director Shin Sang-ok and his actress wife, Choi Eun-hee, to bolster the nation's film industry. Forced to work for Kim, Shin eventually directed Pulgasari, a North Korean Godzilla knockoff featuring a giant iron-eating monster that helps peasants revolt against a tyrannical king. Despite its propagandistic undertones, the film became a cult classic, showcasing impressive special effects for its time and a compelling story. Shin and Choi eventually escaped during a trip to Vienna in 1986, exposing their ordeal to the world.
This Vanity Fair article delves into the bizarre and unsettling tale of Pulgasari, a North Korean monster movie often referred to as a Godzilla rip-off, and its inextricable link to Kim Jong-il, the former Supreme Leader of North Korea. The piece paints a picture of Kim's obsession with cinema, bordering on mania, and his desire to establish North Korean filmmaking as a global force, even if through dubious methods. The story centers around the kidnapping of South Korean director Shin Sang-ok and his actress wife, Choi Eun-hee, orchestrated by Kim Jong-il in the late 1970s. Kim, a notorious cinephile with a vast personal film collection, purportedly lured the pair to North Korea under false pretenses with the ultimate goal of bolstering the nation’s cinematic capabilities.
The article meticulously details the couple’s ordeal, outlining their initial separation and subsequent imprisonment in North Korea, where they were forced to participate in Kim's cinematic ambitions. After years of confinement and indoctrination, during which Shin was forced to produce propaganda films, Kim finally revealed his grand project: Pulgasari. This film, featuring a giant iron-eating monster that aids farmers against oppressive landlords, serves as an allegorical tale, potentially mirroring Kim’s own perspective on revolution and societal struggle. The article meticulously explores the film's production, highlighting the involvement of Japanese special effects artist Teruyoshi Nakano, best known for his work on the Ultraman series. Nakano's involvement, according to the article, added a layer of professional polish to the production, differentiating it from the typical low-budget North Korean fare. Furthermore, the piece emphasizes the arduous and often surreal conditions under which the film was made, with accounts of Kim's constant oversight and micromanagement of every aspect of the production.
Beyond the filmmaking process, the article extensively examines the motivations behind Kim Jong-il’s obsession with cinema and his desire to use it as a tool for propaganda and international recognition. The piece portrays Kim as a complex and enigmatic figure, deeply fascinated with the power of film to influence and manipulate audiences. Finally, the article describes the eventual escape of Shin and Choi, a daring feat accomplished during a trip to Vienna for a film festival. This escape, meticulously planned and executed, provided the world with a firsthand account of the strange and disturbing circumstances surrounding the production of Pulgasari and offered a glimpse into the secretive world of North Korean filmmaking under the iron fist of Kim Jong-il. The narrative concludes with reflections on the film's legacy, its cult following, and its enduring status as a peculiar testament to Kim Jong-il’s cinematic aspirations and the lengths to which he was willing to go to achieve them.
Summary of Comments ( 10 )
https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=43880472
HN commenters discuss the Vanity Fair article about the North Korean film Pulgasari, largely focusing on the bizarre circumstances of its production. Several express skepticism about the kidnapping narrative, questioning Shin Sang-ok's account and suggesting his "escape" might have been defection. Others highlight the film's unintentional camp value and the irony of a communist allegory featuring a Godzilla-like monster that consumes metal, representing the insatiable hunger of industry. Some commenters analyze the film's technical aspects, noting its surprisingly decent special effects for its time and budget constraints. A few share additional resources, including a documentary and a Shin Sang-ok interview, for those interested in learning more. The overall sentiment is one of fascination with this strange intersection of film, politics, and propaganda.
The Hacker News comments section for the Vanity Fair article about the North Korean film Pulgasari contains a diverse range of discussion points stemming from the original article. Several commenters focus on the bizarre and often disturbing circumstances surrounding the film's production, particularly the alleged kidnapping of South Korean director Shin Sang-ok and actress Choi Eun-hee. Some express skepticism about the veracity of the kidnapping story, while others point to corroborating evidence and similar accounts of North Korean abductions.
A significant portion of the discussion revolves around the film itself. Some commenters express interest in seeing Pulgasari, noting its unique origin story and cult status. Others discuss its allegorical interpretations, with some suggesting the film could be seen as a critique of capitalism or a celebration of the working class, while others dismiss such readings as overly simplistic or projecting Western interpretations onto North Korean propaganda. There's also discussion of the film's quality, with opinions ranging from "so bad it's good" to genuinely appreciating its special effects for the time and resources available.
Several threads delve into the broader context of North Korean politics and society. Commenters discuss the Kim regime's use of propaganda and its control over the arts, as well as the human rights abuses prevalent in the country. The kidnapping of Shin Sang-ok and Choi Eun-hee serves as a stark example of these abuses, sparking discussion about the regime's methods and motives.
A few commenters also touch upon the technical aspects of filmmaking in North Korea, speculating about the resources and techniques used to create Pulgasari. Others share anecdotes about their own experiences with North Korean culture or their encounters with defectors, offering personal perspectives on the issues raised in the article.
Some of the most compelling comments include those that provide additional context or insights into the story. For example, one commenter links to a documentary about Shin Sang-ok and Choi Eun-hee, offering a further avenue for exploring their story. Another comment details the North Korean government's history of kidnapping foreign nationals, highlighting the broader context of the Shin Sang-ok case. Yet another provides an analysis of the film's symbolism from a Korean perspective, offering a nuanced interpretation that challenges some of the more simplistic readings.
Overall, the comments section provides a rich and engaging discussion that goes beyond the original article, exploring the historical, political, and cultural context of Pulgasari and offering diverse perspectives on the film and its creators.