(1985) Directed by Sang-ok Shin; Written by: Se Ryun Kim;
Starring: Son Hui Chang, Ham Gi Sop, Jong-uk Ri, Gwon Ri, and Yong-hok Pak; Available
on DVD and YouTube
Rating: **½
“They’re just an army of farmers. They have no strength.
Give them no leeway and attack at once.” – General Fuan (Riyonun Ri)
There are few films as notorious as the North Korean giant monster
movie Pulgasari, produced by none other than Kim Jong-il. The behind-the-scenes
story reads like a work of fiction, with events more fantastic than anything depicted
on screen. In the hopes of improving his country’s floundering film industry, Jong-il
ordered the kidnapping of South Korean director Sang-ok Shin along with his ex-wife.
After several years of imprisonment, Sang-ok was appointed the head of his own
film company, and given pseudo-V.I.P. status (under the watchful eye of North
Korean officials). Before eventually fleeing the country, he made a handful of
films, including Pulgasari. In addition to utilizing substantial domestic
resources for Pulgasari, Jong-il flew in a Japanese effects crew under false pretenses,
including monster suit actor Kenpachirô Satsuma (the second individual to wear
the Godzilla suit). The baffling events conjure memories of the old TV
commercial tagline, “But wait, there’s more!” For anyone looking for a more
detailed account, a good starting point is the 2003 Guardian article, “Kidnappedby Kim Jong-il: The Man Who Directed the Socialist Godzilla,” by John Gorenfeld.
The basic story reportedly stems from a Korean folktale* but
appears to share some similarities with the Japanese Daimajin movies and,
of course, Godzilla. Set in 14th-century Korea, a community
of poor farmers are harassed, bullied and demeaned by the king’s soldiers, forced
to toil for their benefit. In a final effort of desperation, an imprisoned
blacksmith creates a figure out of rice (which embodies his soul). His daughter’s
blood accidentally touches the creation, bringing it to life. Soon, the beleaguered
villagers discover the wee beast has a taste for iron. Before you can say “dear
leader,” little Pulgasari quickly grows to gargantuan proportions, providing
the might behind the farmers’ revolt against the tyrannical king.
* Fun Fact: The first cinematic interpretation was reportedly
the South Korean film, Bulgasari (1962), which is now presumed lost.
Famous Last Words
The title creature, which resembles a cross between Godzilla
and a bull, starts out as a pudgy little guy, who resembles Minya if you squint
(or if you heard a second-hand description of the creature from someone with
glaucoma). We’re treated to some Son of Godzilla-esque (un-intentionally
comic?) moments as he stumbles around like a drunken sailor. As Pulgasari grows,
his appetite for iron increases. Even after he’s defeated the king’s army
(Sorry/not sorry about the spoiler), his hunger for metal doesn’t ebb.
Eventually, his addiction deprives the farmers of their means of support (hoes,
rakes, etc…), turning the film into a sort of kaiju version of If You Give a
Mouse a Cookie (which was published the same year this movie was released. Coincidence
or not?).
Despite Pulgasari’s uneven, frequently slipshod
nature, it’s easy to see it was a large-scale production. The royal palace miniatures
are decent enough, and it’s impressive to see crowd scenes that seemingly
included thousands (supplied, courtesy of the North Korean army). Overall, Pulgasari
is a mixed bag. One of the most beguiling aspects of the film is its theme
of villagers overcoming adversity, after being ground under the heel of oppression
by a ruthless, narcissistic dictator. Perhaps it was the period setting or
fantasy elements (depicting a mythical time), but somehow the irony was lost on
Kim Jong-il, who viewed the film as a masterpiece and a source of pride. It
also inadvertently casts the heroes of the story in a bad light, with the
farmers’ fighting prowess and bravery hinges entirely on Pulgasari’s
considerable fortitude. Enjoyment of this movie requires some cognitive
dissonance on the part of the viewer, overlooking the behind-the-scenes drama, its
dubious messages, and melodramatic (bordering on histrionic) performances. On
the other hand, it works fine as (dare I say) silly escapist fare. It’s a curiosity
piece, sure to be pondered and debated for generations to come.
* Fun Fact: If you don’t have enough Pulgasari in your life,
look for the 1996 remake, The Legend Of Galgameth.
Sources: “Kidnapped by Kim Jong-il: The Man Who Directed theSocialist Godzilla,” by John Gorenfeld;
“How Kim Jong Il Kidnapped a Director, Made a Godzilla Knockoff, and Created aCult Hit,” by Nick Romano
Absolutely fascinating review, Barry!
ReplyDeleteThe jaw-dropping backstory sounds far more interesting than the actual film!
Thanks, John! Truth can be stranger than fiction.
DeleteGood read, Barry. I had heard, in general, about the making of Pulgasari. The details are bizarrely horrifying. Still haven't seen the film itself. If it is available on YouTube, I should rectify that. Hopefully it won't sway me to the doctrine of the Worker's Party.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Michael! It's worth seeing once, if only to say you've seen it (and prove to yourself that this thing really existed).
Delete