`Comfort Woman’ Film Touches Japan

Ahn Hae-ryong’s ``My Heart Is Not Broken Yet’’ documents Song Sin-do, center, the only World War II sex slave to ``come out’’ in Japan, and her Japanese supporters’ decade-long efforts to sue the Japanese government. /Courtesy of Indiestory

If Erin Brockovich’s cleavage helped her defense, then Grandma Song Sin-do’s unbreakable heart keeps her fighting her case. Currently playing in theaters is Ahn Hae-ryong’s ``My Heart Is Not Broken Yet,’’ which documents this ``unconventional’’ World War II victim who has become something of a star in Japan while filing a lawsuit against the Japanese government.

Only recently have surviving ``comfort women,’’ who were forced into sexual slavery in Japanese military brothels during war, dared to speak of their past. In 1991, Kim Hak-soon was the first to give a public testimony in Korea and two years later, Song became the first in Japan.

The local media often portrays a group of fragile, teary-eyed grandmothers and supporters demonstrating vehemently in front of the Japanese embassy in Seoul _ but in Song’s instance, it was a group of Japanese civilians who persuaded her to file a case against the Japanese government and demand a formal apology. And unlike other war victim, this ``hard as nails’’ 77-year-old exhibits ``rage and humor unbefitting a sufferer,’’ according to an Asahi Shimbun reporter in the film.

Inspired by Song, some 670 Japanese individuals funded the documentary. Song’s sharp tongue makes ``My Heart’’ humorous as much as it is moving, and moreover, inspirational to see how an individual can transcend personal struggles. Rather than lamenting over seven years of sexual slavery she condemns the inclusive horrors of war itself, arguing that Japanese soldiers and sex slaves were all victims. The film moves away from the anti-Japan sentiment that is usually associated with the issue here, and she even welcomes veteran soldiers as valuable witnesses for her case.

Moreover, the film documents her personal transformation. In spite of her charisma and wit, the past had made her deeply untrusting of people and the difficulties of living as a foreigner in Japan had deprived her of the sense of belonging. Through her journey, she learns to open her heart to strangers and reconnect with her homeland.

The movie is currently showing in various venues in Japan since it was first released in August 2007. Song has been touring the nation to tell her story, particularly to high school students. ``It is necessary that many Japanese people be informed of (comfort women) and the movie must be seen in order to spread the knowledge,’’ a teenage girl was quoted as saying after watching the movie, according to the film’s domestic distributor.

Born in 1922 in South Chungcheong Province, Song was coerced into sexual slavery at military brothels in China at the tender age of 16. Over seven nightmarish years, she was impregnated numerous times, and had to give away two of her surviving babies to local families. All that remain with her are a tattoo of her slave name ``Ganeko,’’ a damaged left ear and several deep scars from beatings. >>More

Actress Moon So-ri provides the narration. Also featured is music by Korean-Japanese musician Pak Poe, who is known as the Bob Dylan of Japan. A portion of the profit from ticket sales will be used to fund the establishment of the War and Women’s Human Rights Museum in Korea (http://www.whrmuseum.com/).

Read about ``Chinese Pink," another unconventional account on WWII sex slavery.

'Modern Boy': Reinterpretation of Japanese Colonialism?

``Modern Boy'' (모던보이, S. Korea)
Directed by Jung Ji-woo (정지우). Starring Park Hae-il (박혜일), Kim Hye-soo (김혜수).
Above photo: Actors Lee Han, left, and Park Hae-il.


Following the footsteps of ``Radio Dayz,'' ``Once Upon a Time'' and ``The Good, the Bad, the Weird'' comes ``Modern Boy,'' another purely entertainment-driven movie set during the Japanese colonial era (1910-45). Gyeongseong, the name of Seoul at the time, is home to flamboyant flappers (so-called ``modern boys and girls''), radio stars and charming bandits who aren't necessarily working for Korea's independence.

The symbolic power of cinema is extensive, as it often showcases a given country's aesthetics, technical achievements and entertainment factors, and moreover portrays to varying degrees its cultural, historical and social values. Period pieces in particular become the subject of scrutiny as they speak for the shared history of a people.


A Japanese newspaper made a misleading report about ``Modern Boy'' and the above-mentioned Gyeongseong movies in January this year. Katsuhiro Kuroda, managing editor of Sankei Shimbun's Seoul branch, announced ``the reinterpretation of Japanese colonialism'' in Korea ― how there was an effort to reexamine it as an era of modernization rather than one of exploitation, oppression and resistance, and that the conventional school manual ``dark period'' version has gotten a facelift and was drawing popularity among the younger generation.


``Modern Boy'' is about a rich, hedonistic playboy played by the fabulous Park Hae-il who cannot care less that his country was colonized and falls head over heals in love with a beautiful independence fighter, ingeniously brought to life by Korean sex symbol Kim Hye-soo. Director Jung Ji-woo crafts a dramatic femme fatale story that evokes ``Carmen'' and ``Original Sin,'' but which can also be compared to Ang Lee's ``Lust, Caution.'' It is essentially a love story, and the dynamics of the time period set the heartbreaking mood for the narrative.

The cheerful characters of ``Modern Boy'' deliver a colorful story, but by no means do they beautify history. It simply shows that life continued, and that there was love, friendship and fun even in oppressive times. Gyeongseong is another name for exoticism, and rich period details give way to a visually lush film. The film portrays a new side of Gyeongseong, brightly lit with neon signs, where swing dance and jazz music were in full swing.

One can argue that the moral distinction between ``courageous'' independence fighters versus pro-Japanese ``traitors'' and evil Japanese authorities has entered a gray zone. ``Modern Boy'' does indeed feature a sympathetic Japanese character (Lee Han) that suffers over his genuine friendship with a Korean. But this is because the area of central conflict has shifted.

Back in the day, Korean cinema had its fare share of political films. Director Choi In-kyu, for example, made a 180-degree turn away from movies propagating Japanese militarism in the 1930s into making ultra-patriotic ones after Liberation in 1945. Such ``nationalistic'' filmmaking is not unusual. Hollywood continues to demonstrate the political agenda du jour, as Middle Eastern and even North Korean ``axis of evil'' terrorists began replacing the public enemy role long held by scheming Russian communists, Neo-Nazis and the ruthless Vietcong.

For Korean cinema's quintessential bad Japanese imperialist, it's a different story. The new Gyeongseong films mark a role shift rather than a reinterpretation of history. The Japanese oppressor is still evil but has melted into the background rather than being a strictly dishonorable character. The bitterness over losing sovereignty remains intact. Some of the most affecting moments in ``Modern Boy'' are when the protagonist, wealthy but deprived of his country, recalls his childhood dream of becoming Japanese rather than a doctor or such, and how a talented artist cannot sing in her own language.

So whether it's Hollywood or Chungmuro, a common denominator is that no matter who plays the bad guy, movies shift their focus away from the political problem at hand. It's called entertainment.

In theaters Oct. 2. 121 minutes. 12 and over. Distributed by CJ Entertainment.

(http://www.koreatimes.co.kr/)

Read about what the "Modern Boy" director and actors said about the film.

`Comfort Women' as Unfading Flowers

Raped, shamed and silenced, hundreds of thousands of women from Korea and other countries were forced to serve in Japanese military brothels during World War II. Who can be justly blamed for the woes of these so-called ``comfort women''?

While the usual answer is Japanese colonial authorities, a novel argues that in fact it is the cowardly men of the male chauvinistic Joseon Kingdom (1392-1910) who were unable to protect their own women from imperial Japan (1910-45), and the Korean government, which neglected the victims for over 60 years, that should be chastised before others.

Wu Bong-gyu, whose novel ``Nunggot (Snow on the Branches)'' was selected by The Korea Times' sister paper Hankook Ilbo as the representing piece for Korea's 50th Liberation Day, has brought ``Chinese Pink: The Spirit of a Downtrodden Joseon Woman'' for the country's 63rd year of independence.

The book pays homage to the victims and their unimaginable suffering and courageous survival. They are likened to ``paeraengiggot''(Chinese Pink or Dianthus chinensis), a light purple flower shaped like the upside down paeraengi hats worn by lowly Joseon commoners. While trampled and exploited, the women persevered and keep their heads up like wild flowers that don't wilt.

But ``Chinese Pink'' goes beyond the scope of conventional works dealing with this particular subject, and scrupulously criticizes Korea's own disregard for the victims since 1945. The novel begins by pointing out that using the euphemism ``comfort women'' endorses colonial Japan's efforts to conceal the horrid nature of the institution.

The victims themselves understandably prefer the expression over the more precise ― and explicit ― term ``sex slave''. Yet the women's shame and that of the Korean bystanders who employ it to ease their own guilt, the author seems to argue, are two different things. Korean readers will find themselves feeling far less comfortable than perhaps Japanese ones.

The novel reads more like an allegorical fable or song than a graphic historical drama, and rings with ``Arirang,'' the quintessential Korean folk melody evoking ``han,'' or pervasive sadness ― bidding farewell to a loved one, and making the arduous journey across mountains and the road of life.

Images of cascading mountaintops and the smallness of man in the bosom of Mother Nature suffuses, yet the novel by no means beautifies the tumultuous period. In the center of it all stands a female protagonist, Ok-a, who, more saint than human, understands the secrets of the universe and maps out her own destiny.

Adopted by Hoe-san, a Buddhist monk, Ok-a grows up enjoying an independence, education and respect most Joseon women were deprived of. Ok-a's muse is none other than Nan Sul-hun (1563-89), an esteemed Joseon poet known for dying at the young age of 27 after an unhappy marriage to an intellectually inferior man. She, like Ok-a, perished, her towering talent unable to blossom because of her gender.

When Japanese officials begin ``recruiting'' youths for labor in factories, mines, etc., Ok-a, unable to stand her romantic feelings for Hoe-san, voluntarily leaves to work in a factory in Japan. There, she refuses to be saved by I-gu, a man desperately in love with her, and ends up getting sent to a military brothel as punishment for teaching other Korean women ``hangeul'' (Korean alphabet).

At the brothel, Ok-a's beauty strikes the fancy of high-ranking generals. While she could have avoided serving up to 100 men a day by accepting their advances, Ok-a refuses. What drives her is not the conventional force of Korean nationalism, but her own rules of transcending boundaries set by nations and people. She derides the Joseon men, who, preoccupied with continuing their own skewed Confucian legacy, had allowed their country to collapse and their women to be exploited. She even goes as far to admire the fierce loyalty of Japanese soldiers for their homeland.

Moreover, the book paints Korean modern history in a few lines about a remote Korean village: ``1940: A man clubbed to death a female tiger caught in a trap. 1945: Four women were sent to Manchuria by Japanese troops. 1950: Three North Korean soldiers were shot to death while eating. The village housed just three homes.'' Korea surrendered powerlessly to Japanese imperialism like a trapped tiger and had to helplessly watch its people be torn away from home.
``Chinese Pink'' continues on to the rise of ``Great Leader'' Kim Jong-il, another name for Joseon's male chauvinism, and Syngman Rhee, not as South Korea's first president, but as a nameless Hawaiian immigrant capitalizing upon desperation.

Demonstrators, including former "comfort
women'' or World War II sex slaves, take part in the 827th regular rally
demanding justice in front of the Japanese embassy in Seoul, Aug. 20. / Korea
Times File

Following Japan's defeat in 1945, the surviving sex slaves were abandoned and many, uninformed of forthcoming attacks by UN forces, died. Those who survived were often unable to find their way home or committed suicide. Those who did make it through the years have only recently dared to speak of the past.

Civil organizations on behalf of the women demand that the Japanese government acknowledge the sexual slavery and examine the truth; apologize in the form of a national assembly resolution; include facts in school history manuals; construct an archive center and a monument to console the spirit of the dead; and punish those responsible for the slavery.

Unbending the women may be, but flowers are bound to perish with time. Until just action is taken, habitual sadness will linger, clawing at an already downtrodden soul.

Korean-Japanese Singer's Rebel With a Cause

Mr. Pak is one of the kindest, goofiest and talented people I've inteviewed. He's awesome!

Korean-Japanese rocker Pak Poe /Courtesy of film festival organizers

A rough, coarse voice pierces through the crashing of the electric guitar. Listening closer, one recognizes Memphis blues jazzed up with reggae rhythm, janggu (Korean drum) beats and bangs of ggwaenggwari (Korean gong). The lyrics, sung with a heavy Japanese intonation, are actually Korean. The dissonant sounds ultimately form overarching melodies suffused with feeling and warmth.

Korean-Japanese rocker Pak Poe defies convention, ironically, by sticking to tradition and roots. Born in Japan to a Korean immigrant father and Japanese mother, he was the first Japanese singer to croon Korean lyrics. This was in the 1980s ― ``long before Bae Yong-joon and hallyu (Korean wave),'' the 54-year-old told The Korea Times. ``People laughed at me,'' he said.

According to the South Asia Human Rights Documentation Center, nearly half of all registered foreigners in Japan are Korean, as a result of Japan's occupation of Korea (1910-45). Despite generations of residence in Japan, many have maintained Korean citizenship and thus lack many political rights. Early efforts to assimilate with mainstream society included ``soshi-kamei'' or adopting Japanese names.

While it would have been easier for Pak to continue using his Japanese name Hirose, he insisted on adopting a Korean one ― and rebel with a cause. ``Rock 'n roll means being against something and sometimes complete abandonment. If there's no strong message, it ain't rock,'' he said. Despite his political songs, this ``Japanese Bob Dylan'' was constantly coughing up hearty laughter. ``Have you seen (the movie) `Kung Fu Panda'? The panda and I have the same name, Poe,'' he grinned.

In order to succeed in Japan with a Korean name he left. After a stint in San Francisco singing about racial discrimination against Native Americans, he returned to establish a reputation as an eclectic Bob Marley, mixing up reggae and rock. He also inspired a film, ``Across Borders, Pak Poe: A Korean Japanese Singer'' (2003) by Yukio Tanaka. The documentary brought him back to Korea as a special guest at the Corean Network Film Festival, a Korean Diaspora-themed event.

``My (song) theme is always something `arirang,''' said Pak. The term, most familiar as a quintessential Korean folk melody, evokes ``han,'' or pervasive sadness _ bidding farewell to a loved one, making the arduous journey across mountains or the road of life.

Pak lived a modern day Romeo and Juliet romance when he fell in love with a beautiful Japanese girl in high school. But his girlfriend's elite family would never approve of a son of a bulgogi (Korean barbeque) restaurateur. ``It was shocking and sad,'' he said. Yet his story is a familiar one, and is shared by many other Koreans living in Japan. It coincides with the popular Japanese movie ``Go,'' which was inspired by the autobiographical novel by award-winning Korean-Japanese novelist Kazuki Kaneshiro.

While society endorses political correctness, racism is still there, he said. ``One may be friends with a Korean but won't marry one.'' Historically, racial minorities ― Koreans, Ainus and Okinawans ― maintained close relations and married one another.

``We (Japanese) need to educate the young generation, and teach them history. A lot of things are kept secret like the truth about comfort women (World War II sex slaves). We need to be responsible,'' he said. As for the current controversy over Dokdo, he said, ``It's land, it shouldn't belong to anybody… But maybe we should rename it Dokdo-Take,'' he said, combining Dokdo with the Japanese name Takeshima. As much as he sings in Korean, he makes music about Hiroshima.

``We don't think we're going to change the world right away, but make a foundation for the next generation and start little things,'' he said. And he only knows one way: music. ``My songs are essentially love songs,'' he smiled.

Cinema Paradise for All: Film Museum & Library

A film interpreter narrates for Korea's oldest surviving film "Turning Point of the Youngsters" (1936) last Friday at the Korea Film Archive, northern Seoul. Recently found and restored, the movie was resurrected on the big screen. / Courtesy of Korean Film Archive

Korean cinema is increasingly becoming a landmark in the movie world. Avid fans can now learn all about the past and present of the local film industry at the new Korean Film Museum.

Korean Film Museum
The Korean Film Archive (KOFA), a state-funded organization devoted to collecting, preserving and reviving domestic films and movie data, inaugurated last Friday the Korean Film Museum.

Located in Sangam-dong, northern Seoul, it's the city's first museum devoted to movies. Walking around the circular room, you'll zip through 100 years of film history. It's small but compact and full of small treasures. Cineastes donated precious personal items for the museum. You'll find legendary screen beauty Choi Eun-hee's (1926~) jewelry and make-up brushes as well as celebrated director Im Kwon-taek's signature on-site outfits and the Honorary Golden Berlin Bear trophy he won at the 55th Berlin International Film Festival.

The historiography is presented in four parts:

The first (1903-1945) shows silent films and creative activity under Japanese colonial rule (1910-1945).

• The second section (1945-1972) highlights war documentaries from the post-World War II era and the 1960s, which is often dubbed the ``Golden Age'' of the film industry. One notable relic is the Special Silver Berlin Bear trophy, left, that director Kang Dae-jin received for ``Mabu'' (Coachman, 1961) at the 11th Berlin festival (left photo).
• The third period (1972-1986) is marked by oppression and censorship under military regimes.

1. Lastly, the fourth period (1987~) covers the 80s or the ``New Wave,'' and the 90s' ``Renaissance'' of Korean cinema. Also featured are scoops on the latest box office hits that signal a bright future for the industry.

The history lesson is spiced up with multimedia surprises for tech-savvy people. In each section, people can flip through movie posters and listen to soundtracks of the era.

The museum also revives history with its recreation of an antique theater. Founded in 1902 to celebrate Emperor Gojong's 40th year of rule, it was reborn in 1908 as Wongaksa, one of Korea's first silent film movie theaters. You can see a collage of clips from homegrown classic ``Turning Point of Youngsters'' (1936) and foreign flicks like ``Ben Hur'' (1925), which are narrated by a retro-style film interpreter.

In the central area, a booth traces social trends through the actresses who ruled each time period. During the Japanese colonization era, screen star Moon Yae-bong was loved for her pure image and feminine allure, while Hwang Jung-soon was the quintessential mother figure in the 80s. More recently, tough ladies like Shin Eun-kyung (``My Wife is a Gangster'' series) reigned and Jeon Do-yeon, who won the 2007 Cannes Best Actress award for ``Secret Sunshine,'' is widely loved for her chameleon-like acting.

Period pieces reviving the splendor of the Joseon Kingdom (1392-1910) have always been a popular genre. You can see how Yeonsan-gun, the Machiavelli of Korea, was depicted by different generations of iconic directors including Shin Sang-ok and Lee Jun-ik. It also features the set of a fancy noble lady's room that appeared in ``Untold Scandal'' (2003).

For children, the special animation zone will be a real treat. It displays a neat claymation (animation of models constructed from clay and plasticine) set and an interactive computer quiz game. There's also a machine that demonstrates the science of animation or moving cartoons.

For students, there are events that are educational and entertaining, like making optical devices of popular 19th-century Western movies and creating your own lines for silent films. Teens can also partake in debating sessions about old Korean movies and interaction between the movie and the media. All the descriptions and labels for the exhibition are in Korean. An automated English audio guide will be available beginning June.

Movie Library
Upstairs on the second floor, there's a Film Reference Library where you can watch movies for free, including black and white classics and the recent flicks you missed in theaters. It's small but it offers enough fun to go around for everyone. There are individual booths with flat-screen TVs and DVD players, for one or two people, and groups of three or more can reserve a separate room.

The library also has movie soundtrack CDs and books, including volumes of local and foreign film magazines like Cine21, Cahiers du Cinema and Animation Magazine.Before you leave, look around the gift shop, which sells nifty little souvenirs like 3D pop-up storybooks inspired by famous movies and more. There are a couple English books on Korean cinema.

The Korean Film Archive is a 15-minute walk from Susaek station on subway line 6. Visit http://www.koreafilm.org/ for details. For information about Korean movies in English, visit the Korean Movie Database www.kmdb.or.kr/eng/index.asp Visit http://www.koreanfilm.org/ for more information. For a full list of Korean movies in English, visit the Korean Movie Database www.kmdb.or.kr/eng/index.asp. (http://www.koreatimes.co.kr/)

Read about books on Korean film history.