(Movie Review) Documentary offers uncomfortable but compelling glance at Korea's past

(ATTN: photos available)
By Shin Hae-in
SEOUL, March 6 (Yonhap) -- There's a saying in Korea that goes, "never talk
politics with family members." With a history of war, classism, colonization,
dictatorship and ideological suppression, the words of wisdom cannot be taken
lightly in a country where not so long ago, best friends became enemies and
fathers killed sons over conflicting political views.

The new documentary "Grandmother's Flower (Halmaeggot)" traces the lives of the
director's own family to bring to light the tragedies the country faced -- and
may still be facing.
After stumbling across a journal that once belonged to his maternal granduncle,
who killed himself after suffering from years of mental illness, director Mun
Jeong-hyun embarks on a journey to his grandmother's hometown of Naju, South
Jeolla Province. There he discovers lingering classism among villagers, political
conflicts and internecine squabbles that continue to torture his family and their
neighbors.
"We continue to live in difficult times. I made the film with the hope that our
society will learn to communicate better and accept differences," Mun told
audiences during the film's preview Thursday.
The independent documentary has received awards at dozens of international fests,
including the Berlin Film Festival, the Pusan International Film Festival, the
Dubai Film Festival and the San Francisco Asian-American Film Festival.
Although made in 2007, the low-budget film struggled for nearly two years to find
a distributor and theaters willing to screen it. But with revived interest in
independent cinema after box office smash "Old Partner" hit theatres, Mun's film
is set to be screened at dozens of local cinemas this month.
Naju is home to three villages -- Sangdae, Jungdae and Pungdong -- which were
originally divided along class lines. While "yangban," traditional Korean elite
upper class, lived in the first two villages, while the latter, Pungdong, was
inhabited by lower class butchers and servants.
In the years following World War II, upper-class villagers began to adopt
left-leaning, communist ideologies, while residents in working-class Pungdong
were increasingly influenced by Christianity and conservatism. The division
aggravated centuries-old tensions and eventually led to horrible massacres.
Though today's residents acknowledge that "things have changed for the better
now," Mun discovers through interviews with elders on both sides that resentment
and bitterness between neighbors still linger.
Mun's grandfather, who fought against Japan's colonization of Korea, became a
devoted communist and sided with the North during the Korean War. His political
convictions led to bloody torture by police in the 1950s and left his family in
poverty and endless fear.
Descending into a life of alcoholism and abuse, the care of their nine children
falls on the shoulders of Mun's grandmother, who rears the family through tough
times, witnessing the murder of her elder brother by a family friend and the
exile of her younger brother from the village.
The approaching death of the grandmother, a Korean matriarch whose stoicism
belies a life of tragedy, forms the backbone of the film.
Mun's mother initially urges him to finish the film before the death of his
grandmother. "Society is ready to learn about the past," she insists. Yet,
retreading the hidden story of her family history brings about a shift as she
turns inward and less certain.
"Son, I am not so sure about this anymore," she says as she relates the murder of
her uncle by one-time family friends. "He was a father of a friend of mine and
they were victims of the era, too. If we were too scared to say anything then,
what gives us the right to call him a murderer now?"
Capturing an array of voices and images from the past, Mun brilliantly guides
viewers through a maze of conflicting views and contentious history. Extended
family members and neighbors share tragic memories while joking about current
politics, triggering laughter among audiences.
"Oh, how good it is to talk freely about all this now," says one senior villager
who is immediately answered with a chorus of, "You never know how things might
change again in the future!"
"Come on, we may all go to jail again for talking about North Korea and Kim
Il-sung if a Grand National Party candidate wins the presidential race," his
friend says with a chuckle.
The comment is a slight dig at the current president, Lee Myung-bak, who ran in
2007 -- as the film was being made -- as the candidate from the conservative
ruling Grand National Party. Audiences roar with laughter at the irony.
Mun suggests there is hope for the country despite its turbulent past through an
interview with his own parents, who hold two very contrasting political points of
view.
His father, a right-leaning retired teacher, supports the draconian National
Security Law and is a stout believer in anti-communism education. His mother
wants the security law scrapped and says she was "secretly proud" when North
Korea conducted its first nuclear test.
Despite the difference of opinion, the couple is affectionate and calls Mun
"ridiculous" for even hinting the father may have to report his progressive wife
to the authorities in order to "faithfully abide" by the security law.
"We don't live in such times anymore!" the father exclaims. "Our country does not
force family members to betray each other for political purposes."
"Grandmother's Flower" will be screened at Joongang Cinema Indie Space and CGV
Movie Collage theaters beginning March 19.
hayney@yna.co.kr
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