Imagined Memory:

Nation, Politics, and Temporality in Contemporary Korean Cinema

Sofia Murell Supervisor: Marie-Aude Baronian MA Thesis Second Reader: Blandine Joret Media Studies: Film Studies University of Amsterdam Word count: 19, 756 24 June 2016

Abstract

In recent years, more South Korean (henceforth Korea) filmic productions have been concerned with the representation of colonial Korea. Several studies explain this as the result of the rapid economic development of the country, or as a means to unify the nation by depicting a nationalistic sentiment. Another possible view of these representations, as I argue, lies within the temporality of the film. This study analyses the temporality involved in nationalism, which is linked to memory studies in contemporary Korean films set in colonial Korea. This research aims to investigate how the reflections of (collective) memory in these films shape Korean nationalism. In order to examine cinematic temporality, Gilles Deleuze’s concept of the time- image functions as an analytic tool in conjunction with textual analysis of the films The Silenced, Assassination, and The Last Comfort Woman (all released in 2015). This study demonstrates that nationalism is not only a consequence of economic developments, but is also a tool that helps to cope with the past. Moreover, this encourages the imagining of a collective future. Therefore, this research contributes to the studies of memory and colonial Korea by providing another interpretation of the screened past. Furthermore, it extends the possibility to use Deleuze’s concept in non-Western film industries.

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Table of Contents

Abstract ...... 2 1. Introduction ...... 4 1.1 Methodology: Using Gilles Deleuze’s Time-image ...... 9 1.1.1 Deleuze’s Time-image ...... 11 2. Memory and Collective Memory ...... 13 2.1 Collective Memory and Korean Films ...... 14 3. Do Not Forget the Nation: A Brief History of Korean Cinema and Memory Regarding Japan ...... 18 3.1 Korean History, Cinema, and Collective Memories ...... 26 3.1.1 Representations of the Past: History and Popular Films ...... 27 3.1.2 Representations of the Past: Colonial Korea in Contemporary Films ...... 31 4. Nationalism, Memory, and Time-image in The Silenced (2015) and Assassination (2015) ...... 35 4.1 Analysis I: The Silenced ...... 36 4.1.1 Past and Present of Colonial Korea ...... 37 4.1.2 Memories of a Colonial Past ...... 38 4.1.3 Time-image in The Silenced ...... 40 4.2 Analysis II: Assassination ...... 42 4.2.1 Do Not Forget Me: Collective Memories of a Triumphant Present ...... 43 4.2.2 Time-image in Assassination ...... 47 4.3 Conclusion Analysis ...... 49 5. Conclusion ...... 50 6. References ...... 56 6.1 Film List ...... 61 6.2 Figures ...... 62

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1. Introduction

The Japanese colonization period is still a sensitive issue in (hereafter Korea). In 2015, one of the most sensitive aspects between Japan and Korea was revisited, i.e. ‘comfort women’.1 During this year, several events occurred that highlighted the painful past relationship between Japan and Korea. For instance, attempts to reach an agreement with Japan on the issue of comfort women culminated in an unsatisfactory settlement for the tortured Korean women of the Japanese occupation (1910-1945) (BBC, 28 Dec. 2015). These events have always been prevalent in the memories of Korean citizens through several forms, for example, as projections (images), narrations (stories), and/or materialization (places, statues, decorations). Films combine these forms, as they present a visual past that can be considered factual or fictional. As Robert Rosenstone (2006; 1995a) suggests, motion pictures can affect the viewer’s perception of the past while making the viewer aware of what the past means to us today. Not only was 2015 important because of the ‘unfair’ settlement concerning comfort women, but also because several filmmakers addressed the colonial period of Korea, as the year marked 70 years of independence from Japan. As films recall and reconstruct memories (Rosenstone, Visions of the Past 15-6), I focus on the representation of collective memories of the ‘imagined’ Korea during the Japanese colonization rule in contemporary Korean films of 2015. Furthermore, I analyse how the presented memories echo in the present and construct a possible future of the nation by still depicting a nationalist sentiment. Nevertheless, this portrayed nationalism diverges from previously screened nationalistic films. Additionally, 2015 is relevant for two reasons. First, it marks the resolution settlement of the longstanding issue of comfort women. Second, in that year, the three released films – Assassination (Choi Dong-hoon), The Silenced (Lee Hae-young), and The Last Comfort Woman (Lim Seon) – concerning colonial Korea and labelled under the action genre, have female protagonists. This is atypical, as the Korean action genre is characterised by the predominance of male lead actors that emphasise male power (Chung 10-1). The film The Last Comfort Woman is not analysed in-depth here because of accessibility problems. Notwithstanding, its plot is included in the discussion. Moreover, addressing these three

1 Comfort women is a term that refers to young girls and women who were kidnapped by the Japanese Imperial Army during the colonization of Korea. These young women were raped, tortured, and used as sex slaves by the Japanese soldiers during World War II.

4 feature films complicates historical and temporal dimensions of colonial Korea, as they depict the past in the present, and the present in the past by combining actual historical facts with divergent sentiments toward Imperial Japan and Korean nationalism. It is important to analyse these films because they can demonstrate the manner in which the tension between Japan and Korea is still present in cultural products. When analysing the selected films, one obtains knowledge on the representations of the nation’s memories. As Barry Schwartz (2005) explains,

Many things written about the war have provoked recriminations, regret and repentance, ambivalence, and indifference, but they are important for what they tell us about practical affairs among nations and about what we need to know to improve the present body of knowledge on culture and memory (258).

So far, the discussion on colonial memories is limited to aspects of modernisation and nationalism (see section 3.1.2). However, this research aims to focus on nationalism with regard to collective memories and the socio-political context of Korea. This allows for a varied perspective on the topic of nationalism, which may reveal and provide a better understanding of the Korean colonial past. Additionally, I argue that there is no ‘pure’ anti-Japanese sentiment in Korea, but a more nuanced version as portrayed in the time-image of the selected films and encouraged by a set of socio-political issues of the region, such as the ongoing dispute over the Dokdo/Takeshima islands. Furthermore, several Korean celebrities were assaulted for wearing T-shirts displaying the naval Japanese flag, and for wearing Japanese T-shirts during Korean Independence Day celebrations (Jhezwafu, May 2012, DKpopNews; Korea Times, 16 August 2015). This triggered a commotion, resulting in public apologies. This uproar does not conclude here. For instance, the recent settlement on the comfort women was an unsatisfactory resolution for the Korean people. These events demonstrate that Japan and Korea are not at peace. Since the Japanese occupation, Korea has dealt with anti-Japanese sentiment through the medium of film. Initially, it was a dramatic and polarized depiction of the situation: Japan bad, Korea good. Then, it moved towards a negligible production of anti-Japanese films. A limited number of films highlighted an anti-Japanese sentiment, as the filmmakers centred on anti-communist productions. However, a few films were produced and anti-Japanese sentiment prevailed. When Korea achieved democracy and obtained full control of creative

5 freedom of expression, filmmakers experimented with narratives and portrayals of Japan and Korea. For example, the film Modern Boy (Modeonboi, Jung Ji-Woo, 2008) depicts the imagined modern colonial Korean life, which portrays the city life as impressive and appealing, including jazz scenes and performances (Cho 2). At the same time, in films such as Blue Swallow (Yoon Jong-chan, 2005) and Fighter in the Wind (Yang Yun-ho, 2004), the ambiguity of historical facts are modified to accommodate women’s modernization and national resistance respectively (del Pilar Álvarez n.p.). This means that heroes are metaphorical portrayals of resistance or empowerment disguised in the film narrative, without demonstration of the actual armed resistance (see chapter 4). Thus, an anti-Japanese sentiment is represented, but it is deeply embedded and disguised in the early films of the 2000s. Moreover, because these films depict heroes as metaphors, this research regards the memories of the colonial past as metaphors. Here, the focus lies on the metaphorical use of the term collective memory. Moreover, as Astrid Erll (2011) suggests, in order to avoid confusion between the other possible meanings of the concept memory, when referring to the metaphor it is preferable to use ‘memory’ instead of memory. In this research, the term memory is used as a metaphor and, therefore, the use of single quotation marks is omitted and is implied in the term. Under these ‘new’ characteristics, Maria del Pilar Álvarez (2009) argues that the weakening of nationalism in recent Korean films allows the creation of divergent (sub-) narratives, which reconsider the reminiscences of colonial Korea. Del Pilar Álvarez (2009) also suggests that – contrary to previous years – contemporary Korean films set in the colonial period do not emphasise the national aspect, positioning the colonization as background and not as the main story (n.p.). Since the liberation of Korea from the Japanese in 1945, a strong nationalistic ideology pervades the films related to the colonial period, which helped to reconstruct Korean national identity and heritage (Yecies and Shim, The Changing Face of Korean Cinema 63). However, when regarding recent Korean films, I argue that nationalism has in fact not been weakened, but invigorated. Films of 2015 depict a clear statement against Imperial Japan when analysed and, at the same time, this statement is disguised in the narrative. Therefore, this study proposes that nationalism is still the main topic of contemporary films set in the Japanese colonization period, making them – once again – political with nationalistic ideologies. This implies returning the colonial period to the forefront. By considering nationalism as a fluid concept – not as a static form of patriotism, but rather as the construction of collective memories of a state within socio-political and economic national circumstances over time – it is possible to better understand the

6 representation of colonial Korea in the present time. This notion of nationalism enhances the understanding of the present past. The selected case studies demonstrate another type of ‘nationalism’ constructed by selected socio-political issues and the prevailing memory regarding Japan. This depicts an anti-Japanese sentiment connoted in the films. It is not as explicit as during Japanese occupation or the dictatorships, but is more nuanced. Nationalism is marked as a symbolic reference that helps to cope with the actual socio-political relations between Japan and Korea. It is still there, but not as obvious as before. Moreover, it is not disguised in the narrative – it is portrayed explicitly, but its binary construction as demonstrated in earlier narratives is blurred. The combination of temporal layers in certain screened images of the films blur the binary constructions as they combine present and past memories of Korea related to Japan. The selected films display an ‘intermediate’ national sentiment between the radical and non- nationalism sentiment. Nationalism is represented through metaphors of the past that echo in the present, and, as will be demonstrated, this notion of nationalism is a means of coping with the past rather than a direct result from economic development, as many scholars argue (e.g. Ghosh, 2012; Kim, 2011; Choi, 2010; Jeon, 2009; Bleiker and Hoang, 2006; Kim, 2004). Therefore, the application of Gilles Deleuze’s (1989) time-image as analytic tool is convenient, as this term suggests a temporal connection between the past and present. Deleuze’s concept makes it possible to venture beyond the nationalism discourse, and to observe and understand how the present and future of the nation is framed by observing the past in the present. This study demonstrates how collective memory is addressed in current Korean mainstream cinema set in colonial Korea. This is accomplished by analysing the narrative, the aesthetic aspects of the films (such as flashbacks, editing, and footage). What do these films tell us about the imaginative collective memory of Korea’s past and present? What elements are represented and what is omitted, and why? Which socio-political circumstances trigger these representations? With these inquiries in mind, this research asks the following main question: How is Korean nationalism shaped through reflections of (collective) memory in contemporary Korean films set in the Japanese occupation? In order to address these questions, I conduct a textual analysis of the selected films, and discuss the possible interpretation(s) of colonial memories and cinematic temporality. The main studies on Korean past, and especially colonial Korea, focus on modernity or national discourses. However, the main objective of this study is to surpass the black-and- white duality of the discourses and to find a middle ground in which both discourses –

7 modernity and nationalism – coincide in one space. This is possible owing to the application of Deleuze’s concept of time-image. I argue that the selected films reveal a nuanced nationalism shaped differently from its predecessor of the 1990s and early 2000s, which involves discovering forgotten traditions and the representation of recent historical traumatic events of the past, such as the North-South division or the financial crisis of 1997, combined with Hollywood cinematic language. Several scholars have studied films that address Japanese colonization of Korea (Kim, 2011; Lee, 2000; Min, Joo, and Kwak, 2003; Shin and Robinson, 1999). However, few focus on the contemporary representation of the colonial past – not being post-colonial (e.g. Choi, 1993) but set in the colonial period (Yecies and Shim, 2003; Kang, 2015; del Pilar Álvarez, 2009). Brian Yecies and Ae-Gyung Shim discuss the re-imagination of what could have happened, and the forgotten issues of the colonial period represented in the sci-fi film 2009 Lost Memories (Lee Si-myung, 2002). Kyoung-Lae Kang and del Pilar Álvarez focus on the representation of the city and modernity, and on the film as a site. Recent studies address the issue of memory – of remembering and forgetting the past, terms used when discussing Korea. However, these works focus on the , the financial crisis of 1997, or on colonization issues, such as the documentation of the comfort women (e.g. Suh, 2014; Ghosh, 2012; Kim, 2011; Choi, 2010; Jeon, 2009; Bleiker and Hoang, 2006; Kim, 2004; Lee, 2000; Kim and Choi, 1998). This study focuses instead on nationalism and its link to memory studies, rather than on economic developments and modernity, as many scholars have. Thus, this study provides a new interpretation of the concept of nationalism represented in contemporary Korean colonial films. This research contributes to memory studies by analysing a disregarded period that seems to be a continuing nostalgic, painful, and nationalistic memory reflected through filmic productions. As the colonization of Korea was a traumatic period for the country, ‘trauma’ should be addressed. However, this research does not focus on testimony or trauma as an approach, as a number of studies have (Ha and David, 2014). What is at stake is not the ‘real’ past and testimony of the victims, but the ‘imagined’ colonial past that these films create, and the echoes of this past in the collective memory of Korea’s present. In the selected films, the screened past is partially imagined and partially real. What is interesting about the mainstream representations of colonial Korea is that recent films include material from the past, such as actual footage, or are based on true events from that period. This indicates that fiction and factual materials interweave, which problematizes the notion of a historical film.

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As I will demonstrate, this allows the application of Deleuze’s concepts, as these materials could be seen as a sort of intermediate, a ‘virtual image’ that connects past and present. First, the methodology applied here explains why and how Gilles Deleuze’s time- image is used in this study and what it is. The second chapter demonstrates how Korea remembers. This chapter argues that colonial films are possible reflections of collective colonial memories that evoke the reinterpretation of these memories. In chapter 3, these colonial memories are remembered and are associated with nationalism. Moreover, this chapter proves that anti-Japanese sentiment and colonial memory are prevalent in the Korean cinematic representations of the Japanese occupation throughout history. Moreover, these depictions of colonial Korea are subjugated to the social, political, and economic context of the country. In chapter 4, the selected films are analysed by using the time-image and textual analysis. The research concludes with a summary of the results, and discusses how Korea negotiates with its past by analysing nationalism and temporality in films set in colonial Korea.

1.1 Methodology: Using Gilles Deleuze’s Time-image

In this section, I discuss one of the theoretical tools used in this research, i.e. Gilles Deleuze’s time-image. This term – to provide a preliminary definition – refers to an image that connects the past and the present in the same temporal layer. I argue that by using Deleuze’s concept, Assassination and The Silenced reveal how Korea negotiates with their colonial past. By emphasising nationalism and an anti-Japanese sentiment that are demonstrated throughout the film’s narrative, the time-image reveals moments in which the notion of nationalism is not cut-clear – it is blurred, as past and present coincide in one image, intertwining past and present feelings toward Japan and colonial Korea. In addition, the time-image reveals how Korea copes with its past in present socio-political circumstances, and how memories of the past and present resurface. In this study, the time-image depicts moments of revelation and freedom, and stimulates seeking and preserving the truth – a truth that enables advancement, and imagines a future linked to the painful and triumphant memories of colonial Korea. By applying Deleuze’s idea of the time-image – as I hope to demonstrate – another layer can be added to the forms of negotiating and remembering colonial Korea, which are discussed in section 3.1.2 and 4.1.1. In this sense, by interpreting the selected films through

9 textual analysis and the identification of the time-image, something more than just a reference to the past can be disclosed. As demonstrated in the selected films’ analysis, these films negotiate memories of the past, present, and imaginings of a truthful future. David Martin-Jones (2012) explains that Deleuze has been criticized for being Eurocentric, as he does not consider the historical and geographical context of his examples in his Cinema 1 and 2. For instance, Deleuze indicates that the Japanese filmmaker Yasujiro Ozu is one of the firsts to demonstrate the idea of the time-image, as Ozu combines visual and sound techniques that result in a situation where the past and present coincide in one image (Deleuze, Cinema 2 13; Martin-Jones, “Time-Images in Traces of Love” 55). However, David Martin-Jones notes that Deleuze quickly moves to establish a connection with Italian neo-realism and other European auteur cinemas, leaving unclear why the Japanese director is appropriate when concerning the shift from classical to modern temporality in European post-Second World War cinemas (“Time-Images in Traces of Love” 55). In this regard, Deleuze seems to ignore the historical and geographical context of Japan, while arguing that in other cinemas time-image is also present. Thus, Deleuze could be regarded as Eurocentric. Nevertheless, Deleuze’s ideas, as soon explained, reveal certain memories that intertwine with the film’s images. These images open up the possibility to address new perspectives and issues. When using Deleuze’s time-image in this research, it should indeed be noted that this is a Eurocentric point of view, as it involves a Western concept being applied to Eastern films. Deleuze’s idea was developed when analysing primarily American and European films – he claims that the cinematic time presented in these film industries has shifted from a classical to a modern notion of temporality, a shift generated by the Second World War (Martin-Jones, 2012). This implies that the time-image is a specific example of a contextual situation. However, as Martin-Jones states, Deleuze’s notions can be used to obtain a better understanding of the images presented in films, which are visible using the time-image concept (Deleuze and World Cinemas 13). He explains that by so doing the negotiation of the national past of South Korea can be revealed (2011). Therefore, the analysis of the screened images contributes to rethink and reconfigure Deleuze’s concepts. As Martin-Jones demonstrates in his book Deleuze and World Cinemas, the use of Deleuze’s notions does not automatically involve a Eurocentric attitude. For instance, Martin- Jones analyses several movie industries, such as the ones of Hong Kong, India, and South Korea, in which he argues that these cinemas do not illustrate the shift explored by Deleuze in Europe because of the Second World War aftermath (Martin-Jones, 2011). Rather, a

10 constructive critique, reconfiguration, and reinterpretation of Deleuze’s concepts is offered by considering the cinemas’ history and geography (Martin-Jones, 2011; 2012). In this sense, my aim is not to apply Deleuze’s ideas as part of a universal theory and to extrapolate it into the South Korean cinema, which could risk reinforcing a Eurocentric perspective. Instead, here, this theoretical tool is meant to make visible other possible aspects of colonial memories that intertwine in the film’s narration and negotiation of the past and present.

1.1.1 Deleuze’s Time-image

This section focuses on a concise explanation of the time-image solely concerned with issues of the past, as Deleuze’s books2 – in which he develops the notion of the time-image – are extensive, discussing all of his arguments and innovative insights are beyond the scope of this research. The time-image serves as a tool when analysing the case studies’ temporality and memories, as it comprises both terms. Deleuze addresses temporality in cinema by developing upon the notions of time and memory defined by Henri Bergson. Consequently, Deleuze introduces the idea of the time- image. He explains that,

For the time-image to be born, […] the actual image must enter into relation with its own virtual image as such; from the outset, pure description must divide in two, 'repeat itself, take itself up again, fork, contradict itself'. An image which is double- sided, mutual, both actual and virtual, must be constituted. We are no longer in the situation of a relationship between the actual image and other virtual images, recollections, or dreams, which thus become actual in turn: this is still a mode of linkage (Cinema 2 273).

This concept refers to an image that combines the past of what is represented (the virtual) and the present viewing of that image (the actual). The term ‘the virtual’, as indicated by Bergson, is the idea of the past, a memory in the unconscious that can be placed back in the conscious by remembering. For instance, Christopher Vitale explains the idea of the virtual by using the

2 Deleuze developed the idea of the time-image throughout two of his highly condensed and complicated works on cinema, i.e. Cinema 1: The Movement Image (1983) and Cinema 2: The Time-Image (1989).

11 example of a coffee mug (Networkologies, 29 April 2011). Imagine an individual is drinking coffee. For that individual the actual coffee mug is real. He feels it; he can touch it. However, the taste/ the feeling of the coffee he just drunk is now a memory less prevalent than the real feeling of the coffee mug or the smell of the coffee he is holding. This memory of the past (the coffee feeling/taste) is what Bergson and Deleuze see as the virtual. ‘The actual’ is then what Bergson refers to as the present. It is the actual coffee mug that the individual feels and holds in his hand. Moreover, in the case of the cinema, the reality becomes the screened image that the viewer sees. In cinema, then, the time-image can be revealed through several mechanisms. For instance, it becomes visible between scenes interrupted by a sudden cut, or it is perceived through the disparity between sound and visuals. In the virtual image, the past is addressed and can be recalled by the actual image. Therefore, the time-image – which corresponds to the virtual – intertwines with the imaginary, in-between the past, present, and future. The time-image in this sense evokes memories of the past in the present. Memory links the present and the past. Thus, by focusing on the selected films’ memories in conjunction with the time-image, distinctive imaginations of Korea’s colonial period can be distilled. As has been noted, Deleuze’s time-image is used as an analytic tool that can reveal different perspectives of the cinematic Korean past. Moreover, the selected films contribute to reconfigure and rethink Deleuze’s notion, as cultural and historical context are acknowledged in this research. Therefore, additional aspects of how Korea negotiates and remembers its colonial memories are disclosed by using the time-image notion. Nevertheless, what are memories, and how are they remembered and portrayed in Korean films set in the Japanese occupation? This question is answered in the next chapters.

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2. Memory and Collective Memory

Of course, everything is a memory case; memory is everywhere (Alon Confino 1387).

As Alon Confino suggests, memory is found everywhere, however, not all ‘memory cases’ are the same (1387-8). By studying memory cases through different perspectives, divergent results are obtained (ibid.). When related to Korea, memory studies generally focus on the traumatic past of the nation, for example, the Japanese occupation, dictatorship, Gwangju massacre of 1980, International Monetary Fund (IMF) crisis of 1997, etc. (e.g. Suh, 2014; Ghosh, 2012; Kim, 2011; Choi, 2010; Jeon, 2009; Bleiker and Hoang, 2006; Kim, 2004; Lee, 2000; Kim and Choi, 1998). Here, the focus lies on the representation of colonial Korea in a period when the country was invaded by the Imperial Japanese Army. Furthermore, memory studies are interdisciplinary. This creates the possibility of a better understanding of the past by analysing, for instance, a nation’s memory through several viewpoints that reveal a rich conceptualization of the past. The diversification of memory studies has resulted in the use of various definitions and terms. A few examples of the most prominent concepts are, as described by Astrid Erll, “mémoire collective, Mnemosyne, storia e memoria, lieux de mémoire/sites of memory, or realms of memory, Cultural Memory vs communicative memory, social memory, memory cultures, cultural remembrance, social forgetting, the cultural brain, memory in the global age, and transcultural memory” (Erll 6). In the case of Korea, when scholars refer to the cinematic representation of the Korean past, the most common term is ‘remembering and forgetting,’ not associated with memory studies as in heritage studies per se, but more focused on the relationship between economic developments and the repercussions in society (e.g. Ghosh, 2012, and Jeon, 2009). As Erll explains, ‘memory’ is comprised differently in various contexts (6). They can be historical, national, linguistic, disciplinary, or social (ibid.). The different contexts, then, indicate that when analysing Korean memories, several interpretations might be elaborated. In this regard, memories are constituted and defined by the cultural contexts of the country and the analysed case study’s perspective. As there are several definitions of ‘memory’, it is relevant to articulate what is understood by the term here. In this study, memory is seen according to the definition provided by Erll. Her definition regards ‘memory’ as follows, it is “an umbrella term for those processes of a biological, medial, or social nature which relate past and present (and

13 future) in sociocultural contexts” (Erll 7). By adopting this definition, it provides the opportunity of exploring not only the present and past, but also the future. As demonstrated in the analysis section, imagining the past encourages visioning the future. Furthermore, Erll’s definition of ‘memory’ allows to involve cultural aspects of Korea, which are relevant for the understanding of the country’s culture, and it acknowledges the configuration of ideologies such as Korean nationalism, topics determined by cultural context such as the anti-Japanese sentiment, and fundamental philosophies of the nation such as Confucianism. In this chapter, the notions of ‘memory’ and ‘collective memory’ are discussed. Furthermore, this section addresses the importance of considering films as possible reflections of collective memoires, since recalling memories of the past affects the present. This implies that the presented event in, for example, the Korean cinema still has meaning for Koreans in the present, as it makes the viewers aware of the past (Rosenstone, 2006; 1995a). In the case of Korea, this is revealed through the portrayal of Japanese soldiers and traitors in contemporary films that address colonial Korea. The resulting memories intertwine with a nationalistic sentiment by depicting Japanese and Korean collaborators as ‘evil’ (see chapter 4). By depicting the Japanese occupation of Korea, filmmakers recall memories of the past that are oppressed and not yet resolved in society, as colonial Korean topics such as comfort women are still a point of discussion. For instance, as Namhee Lee suggests, during the regime of Park Chung Hee (1961-79), modernisation was encouraged while the regime subjugated individuals to its totalizing power (The Making of Minjung 5). This experience and the drive for development brought mixed feelings among Koreans. Citizens felt detached between past and present, between countryside and the city, and between the surfacing working and middle classes (Lee, The Making of Minjung 5). Because of this oppressed voice, among other socio-political circumstances, Korean filmmakers still address their colonial period.

2.1 Collective Memory and Korean Films

Memory can be individual but also collective. Both terms – ‘individual’ and ‘collective’ memory – interweave with forgetting and remembering the past. According to Erll, memories are not observable. However, they are considered an ability of remembering (8). This remembering allows the compilation of data that refers to the past memories that are available

14 in the present (ibid.). It creates the opportunity to explore topics that have been perhaps ignored or censured in the past, such as in the case of Korea. As Erll proposes, memory studies is then a study not of the remembered past, but “particular presents of the remembering” (8). This makes the selected films relevant and intriguing to analyse, as they not only could be seen as collective memories of the Korean past, but also as a ‘present of the remembering’. Collective memory’s notion is attributed to Maurice Halbwachs who extensively described the term in his seminal book La mémoire collective (1950). This collective memory, according to Halbwachs, is multiple as there are several groups that remember different issues. However, recalling the past is also determined by larger historical events, or heritages of the community, or institutions. Remembering is then a social construction that requires the active participation of a group in order to preserve these memoires, which are framed by space and time (Crane 1377). Therefore, what is remembered is modified according to the circumstances of the present, which creates a continuum of these memories into the present. Individuals actively seek the past in the present by remembering. Opposed to collective memories, Halbwachs notes that events fixed in a chronological structure separate from their social relation – what he sees as historical memory (Crane 1375-7). He argues that historical memory emerges when the link with the past is lost and social traditions are no longer relevant to that memory (Crane 1377). Therefore, when regarding memories in the selected films, these cinematic memories and imagination of colonial Korea are collective ones, as they bring the past into the present. Collective memory generally refers to the ‘shared’ memories by a large and/or small group of individuals. In effect, these ‘shared’ memories do not imply that all members of a specific group agree with such memories. Rather, Berry Schwartz, Kazuya Fukuoka, and Sachiko Takita-Ishii explain that is preferable to consider collective memory as the beliefs formed concerning a specific past through interaction with other individuals (254). For Schwartz, Fukuoka, and Takita-Ishii, collective memory is “an umbrella term covering the relations between history and commemorative symbols on the one hand, and, on the other, individual belief, sentiments, and judgements of the past” (254). For instance, a group can agree on a national level, such as the government or popular culture representations (Weinberg 143). An example of this is the cinematic representations. To create and preserve collective memory, the group – aside from agreeing to establish certain memories – selects memories that are relevant to the community. These memories have a functional goal for the group (Halbwachs, 1980). For instance, the

15 meaningful memories of the Japanese occupation. These memories reflect current relations between Japan and Korea, as cultural products such as films are consumed in both countries. Furthermore, the films concerning colonial Korea provide a voice to the ‘censured’ past of the country. Collective memory unifies groups in a nation. It is a central aspect for the formation of communities, as it allows individuals to preserve and access a shared past, which provides an impression of who the group were and who they are (Wang 307). Collective memories, then, establish the identification of a common heritage that creates a sense of belonging to a larger group – belonging to an “imagined community” (Anderson, 1983) that unites all its members, in this specific case, through a common memory of colonial Korea. Moreover, collective memory is a therapeutic practice for the members of a community (Sturken 16). The members of a community interpret, reconstruct, and materialise the shared memories and experiences of the past into prospective representations, which are formed as dramatizations, rituals, art, narratives, etc. (Wang 310). Perhaps when observing Korea, the selected films can be considered a therapeutic practice of recalling the past. The films that portray the memories of the colonial past allow the possible redemption of the colonial past, as these films (re-)explore the cinematic memoires. Moreover, through the depiction of nationalism the films evoke the idea of a nation, of a unified community participating in the re-evaluation of the screened past, i.e. colonial Korea, which echoes in the present by establishing economic and political relations with Japan3; as seen in the news, tension still exists between the countries. Gi-Wook Shin and Michael Robinson state that Korean nationalism emerged in different areas since the Japanese occupation. These included political, cultural, and social revolutionary movements aimed at the liberation of the nation (3). These various forms have changed over time, which signals the fluidity of the nationalism concept determined and constructed by the socio-political and economic circumstances of the nation. However, as demonstrated in chapter 4, nationalism can also be interpreted differently, i.e. negotiating the past in the present. The term collective memory implies that an individual recalls the past within a sociocultural context (Erll 9). In this sense, cultural formations are determined by the relations and agreements of individuals on the past memories, which are established in a

3 According to Michael Kammen (1995), the establishing of a national identity corresponds with the active participation in the creation of memories, which ultimately can be distorted. On a collective level, this distortion results from political and nationalism manipulation.

16 collective memory. Because of this relation between the individual and the (collective) national, the notion of collective memory is criticized. For example, Marc Bloch (1925) was one of the first scholars to criticize Halbwachs’ mémoire collective by arguing that collective memory is used improperly, as it attempts to transfer individual experiences into a collective level (Erll 96). Other objections against the notion of collective memory contend that it can be substituted for the terms ‘tradition’, ‘historical consciousness,’ and ‘myth’ (Erll 98). As Noa Gedi and Yigal Elam (1996) claim in their investigation on the meaning of collective memory, it is indeed a further reference to the old-fashioned concept of ‘myth’. Critics note that because the collective memory encompasses several meanings, such as canon, tradition, archive, rituals, neuronal networks, life experience, etc., it clouds the division between divergent disciplines (Erll 99). However, according to Erll, this quality can be beneficial as it integrates distinct developments. This creates the possibility of exploring new phenomena by seeing the connections between them (e.g. analogical, functional, and metaphorical) (ibid.). Briefly, this allows multiple or interdisciplinary perspectives that reveal, in this case, additional information regarding the representation of Korea’s colonial memories. Jeffrey Olick (1999) suggests that it is essential to distinguish between ‘collective’ and ‘collected’ memories to avoid the methodological mistake of confusing individual and collective memories. Collected memories correspond to the individual level, wherein the memories are traced by studying the psychological and neurological processes of the person. Collective memories focus on the socialization, materialization, institutionalization, and reflection of the shared memories. In this regard, when studying films on colonial Korea, the actual memories are not analysed; rather, the remembering of these memories is analysed. Remembering occurs when collective memory refers to media, institutions, practices, and symbols that establish, preserve, and represent the shared past memories (Erll 98). For instance, media studies generally centre on the concept of representation, i.e. collective memory instead of collected memory. Therefore, the collective memories of the Korean nation are exposed by considering memory in these cinematic representations. These memories are identified and remembered by numerous citizens. As demonstrated above, scholars writing on Korea generally focus on the way in which socio-political and economic developments affect Korean memoires. However, the notion of memory is regarded differently in this paper. It is seen as part of Korea and as an issue that emerges within its society – its citizens. Therefore, understanding memory as an umbrella term that intertwines with diverse issues allows one to enrich and reveal divergent outcomes, and to discover how these issues are related. Memory is used throughout this study

17 as the remembrance of the past in the present. This present time involves the actual time linked to what is currently known about colonial Korea, what is remembered, and what is desired to be remembered. In this research, these memories are associated with metaphors that trigger recollections of the past and complicate temporality in the selected films. Memory is a past in the present, which, according to Rosenstone (2006; 1995a), makes viewers aware of the past and affects how they perceive the past. This implies that reflection of the past in the present modifies the remembrance of it. This demonstrates that the past still holds meaning for these individuals. In the case of Korea, this is depicted by the nationalistic and anti-Japanese sentiments. Moreover, the portrayal of this specific period represents and recalls meaningful collective memories in which filmmakers articulate the once oppressed voices and memories of colonial Korea. These cinematic collective memories illustrate meaningful memories for Koreans, which unify the notion of a community and nation, and serves as a therapeutic practice for the member of the community. As demonstrated, these three qualities are revealed by the time-image and film’s narration (see chapter 4). The next chapter discusses how the perseverance of colonial Korea intertwines with nationalism and an anti-Japanese feeling in Korean films over a contemporary history.

3. Do Not Forget the Nation: A Brief History of Korean Cinema and Memory Regarding Japan

In this section, I demonstrate the persistence of the Japanese occupation’s traumatic memory in the Korean film industry from 1930 until the present, and it is determined by socio- political circumstances of the country. Here, I argue that the consistent memory of the Japanese colonization in contemporary Korean history intertwines with nationalism. This memory is a product of socio-political circumstances that shaped the film industry and market, such as dictatorship and neo-liberal policies. At the same time, memory closely correlates to cinema as a medium of expression and visualisation of several memories. Therefore, it is important to revise Korean cinematic history in order to understand how remembering and forgetting is configured in this film industry. Furthermore, it is explained how the nationalistic sentiment that emerged since the Japanese colonisation has established a

18 peculiar fashion of perceiving Japan when addressing colonial Korea (this is discussed in detail in section 3.1.2). In the twentieth century, Korea experienced devastating events. One of these events is the Japanese occupation from 1910 until 1945. During this period, Japan attempted to assimilate Korea into the Japanese culture. For instance, several Korean historical documents were destroyed, classes were banned, and locals had to learn and speak Japanese – and take a Japanese name. In addition, tortures, murders, and rapes took place, such as in the case of the Korean comfort women, where primarily young girls were taken away from their homes and were placed in brothels intended for Japanese soldiers. At the beginning of the occupation, several films depicted a strong sense of nationalism and resistance to Japan. The anti-Japanese sentiment was discretely indicated in films, which had passed the imposed censure guidelines.4 These films represented the national spirit of the country (del Pilar Álvarez, 2009; Min, Joo, and Kwak, 2003), such as (1926) directed by Na Un-gyu. The original film is lost, but it is said that at the end of the moving picture, the Korean audience started singing Arirang (a Korean folk song often described as the unofficial anthem of Korea, and is seen as part of the cultural identity of the country) (Rhee 122) and shouted “Hurrah for the Independence of Korea!” (Min, Joo, and Kwak 34). This demonstrates how through film Koreans felt directly connected with the images they watched – it moved them, physically and emotionally. Screenings such as Arirang reaffirmed the idea of one nation while encouraging nationalism. Moreover, due to censorship regulations that determined what and how films should be presented, filmmakers sought divergent ways of portraying and stimulating a national sentiment in order to achieve liberation. During this period, the national sentiment can be partially considered an anti-Japanese position. I refer to ‘partially’ because it has to be remembered that there are always other possible reasons, such as the appreciation of the nation. For instance, films tended to emphasise the theme of nationalism as the central subtext, which depicted the notions of national solidarity and awareness under the slogan

4 During that period, the Japanese government imposed censorship rules to all Korean cultural products. The Korean film industry was a productive and rich one until the late 1930s, the Japanese government imposed stricter guidelines. No more ‘Western’ films could be screened and the subjects related to Korean culture were supressed (Yecies, 2005).

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“knowledge is power” (Min, Joo, and Kwak 31). Subsequently, ‘liberation’ became the main topic of the films.5 During the Japanese occupation, Koreans were oppressed. Nevertheless, they found a voice and manner to express themselves. This resulted in the emergence of a national spirit, which was disguised in films, most prominent in the late 1930s, as censure became stricter. After the liberation, this sentiment continued and became explicit. Nationalistic films emphasised triumphant narratives, and the representation of the suffering and oppression of Korea under the Japanese rule (Min, Joo, and Kwak 39). The combination of both narratives – triumphant and oppressed – lead to a strong anti-Japanese sentiment, as Japan was depicted as the enemy of Korea. The post-colonial Korea films, or the so-called ‘liberation’ films, present real and fictional narratives concerning people who helped regain Korea’s freedom, such as patriots, heroes, and independence fighters. An example of this is the film Victory of Freedom (Jayu Manse, Choi In-kyu, 1946) (Min, Joo, and Kwak 39). Consequently, this trend moved towards an anti-communist ideology, as Korea became divided into North (communist) and South (capitalist). Even after the Korean War (1950-1953), anti-communist films continued to be produced, and a few ‘Japanese liberation’ films were produced (Min, Joo, and Kwak 42). The years after the Korean War were not peaceful ones. Korea was in a dictatorship, in which strict censorship in creative works was applied.6 Filmmakers were in a position that in order to be financially sustainable they had no other option than to produce propaganda films for the dictatorial regime. Likewise, they were obliged to fulfil an import quota, which required four domestic films for one international (Park 18). The filmmakers also had to follow determined guidelines so that their films could be screened (Park 18). Their works

5 Especially between the period of 1926 and 1932, there was a “brief moment of nationalistic spirit” (Min, Joo, and Kwak 157). In 1939, the Japanese government begun to strengthen their regulations and oppress the Korean film industry (ibid.). By portraying characters such as wanderers, lunatics, outsiders, and ex-convicts, directors wished to implant upon individuals a sense of justice and love, and nationalism, as they had lost their nation (Min, Joo, and Kwak 31). 6 In 1962, through a coup d’état Park Chung Hee gained access to the regime. Park implemented strict censorship rules on the film industry, which resulted in a decline of film productions (Park 16). By mid- and end of the 1970s, regulations were at its highest, as the government acquired complete control over the film industry. This strict censorship continued throughout the Chun Doo-hwan regime too (1979-1980 and 1980-1988). Chun obtained control over the government after initiating a coup d’état that killed many citizens in the city of Gwangju – this event would be recalled in the 1990s by filmmakers.

20 represented the state’s ideologies through the following themes: anti-communism; historical figures who fought for the nation in severe times; “cultural heritage and traditional norms such as loyalty, fidelity, and perseverance”; and individuals who demonstrated their dedication to the public interest (Park 19). At the hand of these censorship rules and the import quota, nationalism was promoted and stimulated. Therefore, nationalism was correlated to the totalitarian state, which encouraged patriotism and heroism. Furthermore, it is in this period where one can see the ongoing prevalence and persistency of the Japanese rule’s memory. Although, the predominant ideology of the dictatorships of Park Chung Hee (1961-1979) and Chun Doo-hwan (1979-1980) was anti- communism, the idea of being a hero, and help rescue the nation was associated with anti- Japanese films. For instance, because there was a declined interest in national production, several films were made just to achieve the quota in order to obtain what was considered the “goose bearing golden eggs” – the international films (Park 19). Under these “quota quickies”, the action genre was one of the most popular during the 1970s and early 1980s. In this genre, several films depicted resistance against Japan in the colonial period, and/or anti- communism, and they usually ended happily (Park 20). However, melodrama continued to be the most popular genre in the cinemas, presenting stories about family, loyalty, and chastity (Park 19-20).7 In contemporary Korean cinema, melodrama continues to be the most beloved one, along with action. An example of this is the case study Assassination. In the next years, the socio-political situation of Korea did not improve.8 It is in this period where external factors determined the attitude of Koreans. Which events were permitted to be remembered or forgotten seemed to be restrained in the people’s memories that were restricted and controlled by the political party, which the elected president, and former dictator, Chun Doo-hwan (1980-1988). Nevertheless, filmmakers continued to emphasise traumatic memories, but through a different, much inexpensive fashion. For instance, directors used films as a means to express their condition, which reflected the mood of the Korean people who had been banned from creative expression, oppressed, and still traumatised by the Japanese occupation and Korean War. Many films at that time involved

7 Post-war South Korea’s cinema enjoyed a Golden Age that lasted from 1955 to 1972. The Golden age arose as a response to the traumatic events of the Korean War. The melodrama genre was seen as an optimum approach to represent – as real as possible – the lived experiences during the Korean War by combining fiction with non- fiction narratives (McHugh and Abelmann 2, 4). 8 The military regime between 1975 and 1986 is considered the most depressed period in Korean cinema (Park 21).

21 narratives of nudity, eroticism, low-cost action, and state propaganda, which made citizens grow out of it (Park 21). This is a reason why Koreans lost interest in going to the theatres between 1975 and 1986. At the same time, citizens were occupied by the industrialisation, modernisation, and urbanisation of the country (Park 21). Under these circumstances, Koreans were not ‘free’ to imagine and address a divergent colonial past. In the late 1980s and early 1990s with the regime of Roh Tae-woo (1988-1993), several policies that were adopted made creative freedom of expression significantly attainable (Standish 54; Paquet 21). During this stage, anti-Japanese films became less prevalent. Filmmakers became more critical of their society, as they were finally able to do so. Through socio-political and economic reforms, filmmakers were able to express and refine their works. In the next years, a divergent form of ‘nationalism’ would emerge in the screens. This was not related to an anti-Japanese sentiment, but to a critical view of the past, especially the dictatorships. This critical conception of the past, denominated minjung, arose as part of a cultural movement when the nation paved its way to democracy and industrialization. Minjung – meaning ‘the people’ – focuses on the people and their own history, it is related to nationalism and the search for the uniqueness of Korea (Min, Joo, and Kwak 6; Paquet 16). Consequently, in the 1990s, the Minjung literature and beliefs stimulated filmmakers to re- explore their national past (Park 24). By trying to find the ‘uniqueness’ of Korea, it is visible how the Japanese occupation and the Korean War affected the country – subsequently, affecting its society as an unconscious memory. Korea’s image and identity were first erased and then divided respectively. Under this context, nationalism unified and strengthened the Korean people. The flourishment of the film industry and reformed policies attracted new directors, such as Park Kwang-su, Lee Myung-se, Chung Ji-young, and Jang Sun-woo, whose work became known as the Korean New Wave. The Korean New Wave directors were one of the first who experimented with alternative stories of post-Korean War history (Park 24). Thus, in the early 1990s, Koreans started to explore their current past, to make their own stories of what they considered significant to remember, or transform in these memories, as they were not controlled by the strict policies of the government. The Korean New Wave filmmakers focus on the real current social and political situation of the country. This involved the representation of the working class, revolting

22 students, anti-American9 sentiment prevalent at that time, and political oppression (Park 23; Standish 67) – as well as the representation of new topics such as the North-South division, urbanisation, modernity, industrial turmoil, and family disruptions (Park 23; Standish 67-8). Film such as Chilsu and Mansu (Chilsuwa Mansu, Park Kwang-su, 1988), Kuro Arirang (Guro Arirang, Park Jong-won, 1989), and (Geudeuldo uri-cheoreom, Park Kwang-su, 1990) depict these new themes. After re-evaluating current socio-political circumstances that shaped the Korean nation, in the 1990s, filmmakers experimented with narratives that concerned ordinary people in a recent past. For example, A Petal (Kkonnip, Jang Sun-woo, 1996), and (Areumdaun cheongnyeon Jeon Tae-il, Park Kwang-su, 1995). A Petal addresses the terrific Gwangju massacre of 1980. A Single Spark is based on a real event, which served as a symbol for the minjung movement (Min, Joo, and Kwak 125). The film depicts the story of Jeon Tae-il, a textile employee who self-immolated in order to protest against the drastic labour conditions. Through renovated film policies filmmakers obtained greater freedom of expression, which allowed them to explore their past, incorporating the minjung idea. Here, once again, it is clear that remembering is especially important to Koreans, since throughout their history they often record and judge their past. In addition to exploring socially conscious issues of the past, filmmakers began to rediscover their forgotten traditions. This was initiated by government policies that encouraged nationalism (Shim 27; Yang 181).10 Once more, filmmakers looked into their past to question the ‘essence’ of Korea – their traditions and identity – that had been continually disrupted throughout their history. For example, the first film that sparked the re-exploration of Korea’s ‘forgotten’ traditions was (1993) directed by Im Kwon-taek. The film presents the story of pansori11 singers who attempt to preserve this traditional folk music style. They wander through the nature of the country, which generated a re-appreciation of Korea’s landscape. This oeuvre d’art was an unexpected success that encouraged new

9 In 1979, Chun Doo-hwan gained access to the government through a coup d’état. Subsequently, in 1980, he was elected president. However, the United States acknowledged his regime as a dictatorship. This provoked an anti-American sentiment in many young students, especially the directors of the New Korean Cinema (Min, Joo, and Kwak 58; Choi, The South Korean Film Renaissance 26). 10 The government adopted a globalisation policy, the so-called segyehwa policy, centred on the national production of cultural products, which the government supported by supplying subsidies (Shin 54). 11 is a Korean folk music style based on storytelling by singing, in which the stories narrated by a vocalist and a drummer.

23 directors to adapt this concept and further develop it. These filmmakers became known as the “386 Generation,”12 and are considered part of the ‘second wave’13 that contributed to the international recognition of Korean cinema, such as Kang Je-kyu, Hong Sang-soo, Bong Joon-ho, Lee Chang-dong, Park Chan-wook, and Kim Ki-duk. The 386 Generation directors and government policies drastically changed the way in which films were produced.14 Owing to investors and state support, directors worked with a higher budget, which marked the birth of the Korean blockbuster. Filmmakers adapted Hollywood conventions combined with local narratives and refined their cinematic techniques. Moreover, they explored familiar historical events of their own past in order to connect with the audience, as blockbusters rely on box-office profit (Choi, The South Korean Film Renaissance 38). This not only allowed a critical and perhaps more ‘imaginative’ way of addressing the past, but also witnessed a re-emergence of colonial Korea as a film subject. It is important to remark that until the 1990s, Japanese cultural content was banned from Korea. It started right after the Second World War and ended in 2004, when all forms of cultural products from Japan were allowed to be imported. Before that, in 1998, only manga and awarded films could be imported. Subsequently, in 2000, regulated music performances and more films were allowed in (Suzuki, 2004; Lankov, 29 December 2011, Korea Times). These filmmakers addressed new themes such as homosexuality and the North and South division in a sympathetic manner, and experimented with genre conventions.15 Films such as (Pakha Satang, Lee Chang-dong, 1999), Joint Security Area (Park Chan-

12 ‘386’ is inspired by an Intel chip denominated 386. When these filmmakers were thirty and became well- known, the media used this term to refer to the filmmakers. The eight and six indicate the year in which the filmmakers studied (in the 1980s), and the year they were born (in the 1960s) (Lankov, 5 February 2008, Korea Times). 13 This period is said to be a ‘renaissance’ of the Korean cinema. However, by 2006 the Korean New Wave concluded due to governmental reforms in the cultural sector (Paquet 114). 14 The second phase of Korean cinema was prosper, as capital was invested in the film industry not only by the government but also by chaebol (conglomerates usually run by families). Moreover, creative freedom of expression, a better management of production and distribution regulations contributed to the rise of the Korean film industry in the later years (Shim 32-3). According to Yecies and Shim, the reform applied in 1996, which eliminated governmental censorship, was important for the transformation of Korean cinema, as filmmakers enjoyed complete creative freedom of expression (The Changing Face of Korean Cinema 254). 15 The government implement during that time the so-called ‘Sunshine Policy,’ which strived for improved political relations between North and South Korea. This contributed to the ‘friendly’ depiction of North Koreans in South Korean filmic productions.

24 wook, 2000), The Host (Gwoemul, Bong Joon-ho, 2006), A Frozen Flower (Ssanghwajeom, , 2008), The Good, the Bad, the Weird (Jo-eun nom nappeun nom isanghan nom, Kim Jee-woon, 2008), and (Gukjesijang, Yoon Je-kyoon, 2014) demonstrate the diversity, historical concern, and quality of modern Korean cinema. In 2006, the screen quota changed. It approved more foreign films to be screened in the local cinemas, and a few industrial reforms resulted in the decrease of film productions. However, Korean films increased in popularity in international circles. Many foreign film festivals, such as Cannes, Berlin, Hong Kong, and Rotterdam, invited Korean productions and organized retrospectives – all which were often sold out (Yecies and Shim, The Changing Face of Korean Cinema 3). Nowadays, Korean cinema enjoys a strong market – domestically and internationally. For instance, in 2014, local productions dominated the box- office by reserving fifty percent of the national film market (ibid.). The dominance of Korea’s local market is a rare accomplishment that only a few countries share – these include India, France, and the United States (ibid.). In general, the domestic dominance of the Korean market is no surprise, as Korea shares a strong nationalistic sentiment, which is supported by the local film industry and which has been stimulated by the government since the 1990s. Several contemporary Korean films have become very successful, with an attendance of more than 10 million. These include Silmido (Kang Woo-suk, 2003), King and the Clown (Wang-ui Namja, Lee Joon-ik, 2005), The Host (2006), Tidal Wave (Haeundae, Yoon Je- kyoon, 2009), Thieves (Dodukdeul, Choi Dong-hoon, 2012), Masquerade (Gwanghae, 2012, dir. Choo Chang-min), (Byeonhoin, Yang Woo-seok, 2013), Ode to My Father (2014), Roaring Currents (Myeongnyang, Kim Han min, 2014), Assassination (2015), and Veteran (Beterang, Ryoo Seung-wan, 2015) (Yecies and Shim, The Changing Face of Korean Cinema 4). Moreover, several of these popular films combine fiction with historical events of Korea, which allows a creative method of addressing the past. Films depicting colonial Korea peaked during the early 2000s. Throughout these years, public interest in the Japanese colonization period increased due to the discovery of lost films made under Japanese rule (Kim, Virtual Hallyu 58-9). The production of films set in colonial Korea resulted in the production of high-budget films that did not return much profit at the box-office (ibid.). This demonstrates that colonial Korea is still a sensitive subject to address, as, perhaps, the screened images do not bear out the memories of the viewers, which results in disappointing box-office figures. This continues today, with the exception of one film, Assassination, which became one of the ‘10 million admission’ films.

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How is this memory addressed? Moreover, what kind of relationship arises between viewer, memory, and nationalism? This is examined in chapter 4. In this section, I demonstrated that socio-political and economic circumstances had (and have) a great power when deciding which memories to represent. As Paul Grainge drawing on Foucault explains, these memories could be seen as a “political force,” as they are controlled by the government, and rise in periods of political struggle (Grainge 2). Throughout the transformation of Korean cinema, it is clear that this medium is important to Korean memory. It allows filmmakers and the audience to (re-)explore their past, which was underrepresented during the first half of the twentieth century. Furthermore, the perseverance of the Japanese rule in the popular memories of Korea is conjoined with nationalistic sentiments that varied throughout its history. However, Korean nationalism focused on the search for Korea’s identity, which was re-explored through visual memory. The next section discusses in more detail the discourse of memory, Korean identity, and cinema.

3.1 Korean History, Cinema, and Collective Memories

In cinema, as in other modes of cultural practice, memory has become a powerful locus for the articulation of identity in the sphere of cultural imaginings (Grainge 9).

Korea is no exception to what Paul Grainge suggests above, as during its cinematic history Korean’s national identity, liberty, and unification were projected and valorised as memories to be addressed, preserved, and explored. In this sense, memories are clearly of paramount importance for the idea of a collective identity. In other words, representations of memory – of a shared past – constructs the notion of collective identity linked to a territory, in this case Korea (Hayward 90). Because of this shared past, people can relate to one another. They are connected through their history. As Anthony Smith (1996) puts it, “No memory, no identity: no identity, no nation” (383, in Hayward 90). Therefore, by analysing Korea’s collective memories as represented in Korean films, one may understand how the concept of nationalism is produced, as the national sentiment is depicted as a persistent memory in Korean cinema. This section attempts to analyse how Korean memories are articulated in its cinema. In order to discuss memories as an expression and representation of history in popular

26 culture, I address how history is approached through popular visual media. In addition, the focus lies on the portrayals of colonial Korea, especially on how it stimulates the idea of a collective memory and what that involves. Furthermore, my aim is to demonstrate how the discourse of collective memory is fundamental to the idea of nation and nationalism, which has been integrated in the narratives of films set in colonial Korea, and how this is constructed. First, the relation between films, history, and the representation of memories is discussed. Finally, the second section presents and examines discourses related to colonial Korea’s cinematic representations. In all the sections, the concept of nationalism is addressed.

3.1.1 Representations of the Past: History and Popular Films

Historical films are found in various genres; for example, drama, action, and even suspense genre, as seen in the selected films. These case studies are based on true historical events such as the Japanese occupation, the attempt to assassinate a Japanese commissioner, in the case of Assassination, and interviews and stories of actual comfort women such as in the case of The Last Comfort Woman. Historical films do not correspond to a singular genre, as they are not defined by a determined component other than referring to the past (Stubbs 10). An indication to the past, then, creates a certain freedom of representation with which historical films can experiment, as they are not expected to follow any generic formula (e.g. romantic films: boy meets girl, they cannot be together for some reason, but at the end they reconcile). The films that combine fiction with historical events address memories of the past. Moreover, the events of the past can be modified to blend with the narrative of the story. For example, some historical facts are dramatized or romanticised. For instance, the film Fighter in the Wind portrays the story of Choi Yeong-eui – also spelled Choi Bae-dal – and better known as Oyama Masutatsu, founder of the first full contact Karate style called Kyokushin Karate. The film starts by dramatizing the severe discrimination faced by the future Karate master and his fights against stronger and various Japanese adversaries. The plot also contains a love interest. The film, thus, combines real stories – based on Oyama’s life – and dramatizes and romanticises it by incorporating other generic aspects. Historical films are often based on and recall factual events of the past. However, this does not mean that what they demonstrate is an authentic view of the past. Even written historical papers cannot be considered authentic, as history is always a subjective discourse.

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As Napoleon Bonaparte once suggested, “What is history, but a fable agreed upon.” Historian Hayden White states that any effort of translating historical events or facts into a historical feature involves an articulation that generates fiction (White in Stubbs 17). This indicates that regardless of the type of historical films – e.g. costume, war, drama, biographical, epic film, etc. – any interpretation of information about the past produces a certain fiction. According to Robert Rosenstone (2006; 1995a), by understanding how historical films work, not only do they serve the audience as a means to ‘experience’ the past, but these films make the viewer aware of what the screened past means to us today. Therefore, the intention of this study is not to analyse the authenticity of the screened Korean colonial past, but to examine its construction in order to understand the current collective memories concerned with colonial Korea. In this sense, the focus is on the memories that are depicted – memories shaped by recent cultural contexts and by a long-standing history since the Japanese occupation – rather than the factual authenticity and historical documentation of the past. Thus, historical films in this study are understood as filmic productions that connote and depict the past, whether they are factual or fictional representations. Moreover, historical films could be seen as a mechanism for the transition of our memories that connect the past and the present, as these films mark the relation between the viewer and the projected images. In addition to representing the past and allowing the audience to experience it, historical films introduce the audience to collective and imagined memories that simultaneously re-shape the viewer’s memories. As Rosenstone (2006) explains,

[…] a historical film is much more than its story – it is an experience, the presentation of a world whose moments, characters, and images – particularly if they are strong – are capable of staying with the viewer long after the specific plots and resolutions have disappeared (151).

This implies that collective memories of the Korean colonial past are introduced to, and even appropriated by, the viewer. Thus, the images concerning the Japanese occupation echo in the present. This creates a dynamic relationship between the viewer and the film, as the cultural context in which the film functions also determines the projected representations of the past. Thus, what do the screened images tell us about the collective cultural memory of Korea? Before addressing this question, it is important to discuss how Korea negotiates its

28 past memories in the cinematic field. Then one can understand what the projected memories connote, as they reveal the value that the represented memories connote for Koreans. As demonstrated in the previous section, Korea has dealt with severe historical events that marked and configured Korea into the nation that it is today, i.e. a developed democratic country. The contemporary historical events that formed Korea’s memories began with the Japanese occupation. This was followed by two dictatorships, the Korean War, the economic crisis of 1997, the introduction of globalisation policies, SARS, and finally, most recently, the tragic sinking of the Sewol ferry in 2014. During the first half of the twentieth century, Koreans were unable to write, address, and represent their own history, as they were censured and oppressed by, first, Japanese officials, and then by a sovereign Korean regime. When Korea reached full democracy and censure laws were banned, Koreans wanted to address their past and their forgotten traditions, which link to the notion of nationalism (see section ‘3. Do Not Forget the Nation’). Korean cinema abounds with references to the past. Several films, nevertheless, are not considered historical per se. They might refer to past memories, but, in the films, this is presented in a veiled fashion. In other words, there is a symbolic and/or metaphoric use of the narrative as well as an embodiment of the traumas. The latter aspect is one of the most prevalent. For instance, Joseph Jonghyun Jeon proposes that rather than an embodiment of the traumas, the facial expression of Oldboy’s (Park Chan-wook, 2006) main character is a disembodiment of past memories. Jeon argues that forgetting leaves a residual self, which problematizes the theorisation of trauma in postmodern discourses (715). He suggests that this residue equates to a state where nostalgia disappears and a mere signifier remains (ibid.). Jeon also establishes a relationship between the residual selves and coping with the traumatic event that was the IMF crisis of 1997. He further argues that the disembodiment of the protagonist haunts the present and marks the aggression executed in the past (736). Another film that refers to the past in a symbolic manner is The Host. The film is inspired by a real event that occurred in the capital, where military from the United States threw chemicals into the Han River. The film also refers to various issues such as SARS, the collapse of the Seongsu Bridge in 1994, and the Daegu subway fire of 2003, among others (Paquet 106). The film Peppermint Candy illustrates the past and traumatic memories of Korea in a more explicit fashion. In this film, the protagonist experiences the traumatic events of the past, from dictatorship, uprisings, and state oppressions to democracy, economic liberalization, privatization, and finally the IMF crisis. Manas Ghosh argues that the film explores the

29 collective memory of Korea through the individual journey of the protagonist (139). In summary, Korean films tend to vary in the manner in which they refer to the past. However, a consistent representation of certain past events forms the collective memory of Koreans. As demonstrated above, Korean films negotiate their past through several strategies. They address the past in a veiled manner in which events of the past are indicated through metaphors (as I will demonstrate), symbols, (dis)embodiment, and, as described in the previous section, as a marketing strategy applied by filmmakers. Another method for dealing with the past involves the concept of han. This notion is rooted in the Korean culture and has no exact translation in English. It connotes a collective feeling of suffering and oppression – unique to Korea – the result of the country’s violent and bitter past, in which Koreans blame themselves for their suffering. Han is seen as a lament or resentment accumulated over time. Nancy Abelmann suggests that han denotes the hardships of historical incidents (36-7). This negative emotion echoes in the view of the past by establishing itself with subjugation, attacks, and defeat (Kim and Schwartz 214). According to an investigation conducted by Mikyoung Kim and Barry Schwartz (2002), the han sentiment contributes to the positioning of the Japanese occupation as a national disgrace, as Koreans felt tremendously humiliated and weak during that period (215). The han sentiment, nevertheless, allows Koreans to accept the past and advance, as they incorporate this emotion to their traumatic past, which could be regarded as giving closure to the past and proceeding towards the future. In the case studies, there are clear differences in addressing the past. This is achieved directly by setting the film in the past and by depicting certain true events that are added to the main storyline, such as the colonial period of Korea. Peculiarly, the great majority of the films that illustrate colonial Korea are set in the past. Thus, they could be regarded as ‘historical’ films. Nevertheless, just a few productions concern the Japanese occupation through science fiction, for example, Resurrection of the Little Match Girl (Sungnyangpali sonyeoui jaerim, Jang Sun-woo, 2002) and 2009 Lost Memories. When regarding the case studies, these can be considered historical films, as they, first, address the colonial Korean past. Second, they integrate the colonial past into their narrative, which is adapted to blend with the divergent genres that the films depict. Third, and finally, the selected films are based on and recall factual historical events, as mentioned above.

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3.1.2 Representations of the Past: Colonial Korea in Contemporary Films

In the case of colonial Korea, a few films depict this epoch. It is a past in which the memory of Japanese rule is portrayed as an incentive for resistance. Furthermore, in contemporary films this past has been seen as an emerging modernity, related to several practices and technologies, as well as women’s modernization (Cho 2; del Pilar Álvarez 2009). The latter representation is demonstrated in the film Blue Swallow. This film presents the story of one of the first Korean female pilot.16 The female pilot resists the normative gender roles of that period by acquiring education and pursuing the career of pilot, which men dominated in the early twentieth century. Education and the possibility of accessing the labour market enabled the transformation of traditional gender roles in Korea (Shin and Robinson 15). These gender roles reflected the Confucian philosophy that perceives the woman as an object for the man and valuable solely for the function of reproduction. Modernization represented and addressed in films set during the Japanese rule is not only associated with women’s empowerment, the transformation of traditional gender roles, and with technology, but also with economic advances. The idea of an emerging modernization owing to the Japanese occupation was not a pleasant one for Koreans, as the resentment against Japan was, and is still, ubiquitous (Cho, 2012). In this sense, two viewpoints exist concerning colonial Korea. One viewpoint engages with economic developments and sees Japan as its contributor. The other discourse offers a nationalistic perspective in which Koreans were the victims of the Japanese colonization and suffered under that circumstance. This ambivalence toward the representation of modernity and colonial Korea is also part of the academic literature that analyses Korean films under Japanese rule. As Younghan Cho suggests, Korean scholars concerned with colonial Korea hesitate to use the term ‘modernity’ when describing the colonial past (3). He states that the application’s ambivalence of the term ‘modernity’ is due to the marginalization of the Korean academy toward the international academies, which suggests that Korea became a modernized country during its colonial past (Cho 2-3). One interesting view that Cho posits is that the ambivalence of Korean scholars is not only found within academy, but also in society. As Cho points out, “It [modernization theory] is intertwined with the immediate

16 The first Korean female pilot was Kwon Ki-ok. What is interesting about this film and her story is that the film crew thought the Blue Swallow story referred to the first female pilot, which portrays the story of Park Kyung-won. Consequentially, they discovered that there was another pioneer in history.

31 realities of Korean society, both past and present, and the marginalized position of the Korean academy” (15). In the representation of colonial Korea, thus, there is not a sole position, and there is a direct correlation to the past and present. Films such as YMCA Baseball Team (YMCA Yagudan, Kim Hyun-seok, 2002), Radio Days (Raduio Deijeu, Gi-ho Ha, 2008), and Modern Boy stimulate the idea of imagining a different colonial past. As Cho suggests, in these films there is a detectable anti-Japanese sentiment, however, these feelings are profoundly embedded (2). Moreover, it seems that when addressing the colonial past of Korea, issues of nationalism are at stake. There are two major divergent perspectives on the Korean colonial past. On the one hand, there is the “exploitation theory,” to use Cho’s terms (2), which sees Japan as evil, dominant, and cruel. It focuses on the struggles Koreans had to endure, the victimisation and humiliation of Koreans, and the political repression at that time (Cho 3). This theoretical framework demonstrates the resistance against Japan by appealing to Korean patriotism and nationalism ideology (Cho 4). On the other hand, “modernization theory” sees nationalism as an essentialist explanation. Opposed to the exploitation theory, modernization theory regards Korea not as a passive victim, but argues that Koreans were involved in the development of economic agendas that were stimulated by the colonization period (Cho 4). Modernization theory has been criticised for only focusing on a determined privileged capitalistic social class while disregarding other classes (Cho 5). In this sense, exploitation theory endorses nationalism as the main narrative of the colonial past, whereas modernization theory focuses on the economic development not attributed to nationalistic ideologies. When regarding these two theories, it could be concluded that the perspective of this research falls into the category of ‘exploitation theory.’ However, as demonstrated in the analysis chapter, economic developments – or the lack thereof – are not completely separated from endorsing nationalism. Another method of viewing the colonial past is through memories studies, in which the screened memories are considered as lieux de mémoire17 (sites of memory) by, for example, Maria del Pilar Álvarez (2009). She states that by regarding films as lieux de mémoire, collective memories can be analysed. She does so by examining the relation between memory and history, which that interact in one site: the film, which serves as a symbolic, material, and functional means to understand the world (del Pilar Álvarez, 2009).

17 Lieux de mémoire, also referred as sites of memory, is a term developed by Pierre Nora. Nora defines lieux de mémoire as sites that have become a symbol of the community’s memorial heritage (XVII).

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She further argues that the screened collective memory of the colonial period is elaborated around the weakening of the nationalistic criterion, which allows the rise of new sub- narratives that reshape the colonial memories of the past. According to del Pilar Álvarez (2009), these memories focus on a certain point in history that places the politics into the background story, i.e. reproducing memories that have been disregarded within the nationalistic paradigm. She argues that because the self-development of the individual is highlighted, the nationalistic sentiment is weakened. As explained in the previous section, the politics and nationalistic paradigm have not declined, but have always been there, presented in a blurred fashion, which is present in the forefront of today’s films. The nationalistic discourse is evident in the anti-Japanese sentiment, which, as Cho suggests, is ubiquitous and deeply embedded in the films (2). In this regard, the idea of nationalism associated with an anti-Japanese sentiment varies over time by disguising in the film’s narrative in some cases, and, as demonstrated previously, is persistent in the memory of colonial Korea. It overlaps between exploitation and modernization theory. Therefore, when analysing nationalism, it is important to remark that it is a fluid concept, a flexible memory reflected in the films that is predetermined by social context. Although the nationalistic ideology is not immediately apparent in the films mentioned by del Pilar Álvarez, through the analysis of memories and the film’s narrative, it is clear that the films contribute to the reaffirmation of the nationalistic sentiment. However, here it is argued that, as opposed to del Pilar Álvarez, this nationalistic sentiment does not have to be ambivalent to appeal to the Korean people. As the case studies and recent Korean films such as Spirits' Homecoming (Cho Jung-rae, 2016) demonstrate, colonial Korea is currently a trending and profitable topic. For example, this film has sold more than 2.6 million tickets (Jin, 8 March 2016, Korea Joongang Daily). As demonstrated in this section, the colonial collective memories extracted from the filmic productions result in the discourse of modernization and lieux de mémoire. In the latter, the nation state has less agency when dealing with the representation of collective memories related to history and memory. As described by Pierre Nora (1996), this occurs because in the post-modern phase the nation has become less relevant. What is important in the post-modern era is the visual representation of the past (Nora, 1996). This creates the possibility of undermining the nationalistic paradigm. Del Pilar Álvarez argues that this is possible owing to the manifestation of other sentiments, such as friendship, love, solidarity, and protection – as opposed to the humiliation and victimization narrative of earlier colonial films. In this case, memory discourse is an analytic instrument that reveals modernization as

33 one of the projected memories. Signs of resistance are also apparent in colonial films. For instance, this resistance is depicted in a scene of Fighter in the Wind, when the main protagonist is bullied by the Japanese and decides to develop his own Karate style to prove the Japanese ‘wrong’. However, this view of lieux de mémoire is romanticised. The nation state does not lose its agency when it concerns itself with visual representations. For instance, in Korea, increasing strict censorship rules are applied to films and television (Frater, 5 November 2013, Variety). For example, Kim Ki-duk’s Moebius (2013) was first banned in Korea. However, after retouching the film, Kim was allowed to screen it in his country. The possibility of portraying more sentiments and using the colonial period as a background context does not interfere with the actual nationalistic sentiment presented, directly and indirectly, in today’s Korean colonial films. As demonstrated in the next chapter, contemporary films make explicit use of the nationalistic paradigm, which is carried by the anti-Japanese memories of the colonial past. In summary, this chapter demonstrated how the social, political, and economic context of Korea determine which memories are represented in cinematic productions. Films that address historical accounts allow the viewer to experience these accounts and introduce the audience to the collective memories of the nation, which, at the same time, re-configure the viewer’s memories. In the Korean film industry, memories have been portrayed as a means to criticize and reflect on the recent traumatic historical events, such as the Japanese occupation, the Korean War, and dictatorships, among others. Korea negotiates its past through divergent strategies presented in films, such as metaphors (see chapter 4), symbols, (dis)embodiment, marketing strategies applied by filmmakers, and the philosophical concept of han. A prevalent element in Korean films is nationalism. In Korea, nationalism enhances Korea’s identity when collective memories are presented, as it creates the feeling of belonging to a community. Moreover, the perseverance of colonial Korea in films is connected to nationalism. The depicted nationalism in the selected films diverges from the already established discourses on colonial Korea, such as exploitation and modernization theory. As demonstrated in this research, contemporary allusions to colonial memories still use nationalism in their narratives. However, this nationalism evokes different possible reactions, other than just patriotism, victimization, or modernization.

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4. Nationalism, Memory, and Time-image in The Silenced (2015) and Assassination (2015)

In this chapter, the films The Silenced directed by Lee Hae-young and Assassination directed by Choi Dong-hoon are analysed. In both sections, textual analysis is applied in conjunction with the examination of the time-image. The time-image is a term described by Deleuze. He suggests that different temporal layers reside in one layer, which locates the past in the present. In both films the time-image is encountered, but in different forms. In the first film, it appears as a revelation and actual projection of memories. In the second film, it is depicted by photographs. Both films are set in the colonial period of Korea. However, they differ in genre. The Silenced is a mystery-thriller (horror) film, in which a girl is sent to a boarding school for sick girls. This school is controlled by the Japanese Imperial Army. She is given certain medicines that improve her condition significantly. Other girls take this medicine but they seem to deteriorate and die. However, the school states that this is just the imagination of the main protagonist and that the girls just went home. She and her friend try to uncover the truth behind these events and discover that the Japanese soldiers have been doing horrific things with the girls’ bodies. This setting evokes the idea of an ‘evil’ Japan and the war crimes that were committed during the colonization of Korea. Assassination is an espionage drama action film. Three independence fighters are selected to assassinate Kang In Guk, a Korean businessman who is pro-Japan, and a Japanese general named Kawaguchi. There is a Korean collaborator in the operation and therefore they face several challenges and lose a few independence fighters. In addition, an assassin named Hawaii Pistol is hired to kill these three persons. However, he is romantically interested in Ahn Ok-yun, the leader of the selected team. Meanwhile, Ahn discovers she has a twin who is the daughter of businessman Kang and the future bride-to-be of the son of general Kawaguchi. The film combines several genres. However, the main thread of the story is liberation from Japan. As discussed earlier, in the late 1940s, liberation films were popular among viewers, and evoked resentment against Japan. Nevertheless, the film centres on the Korean traitor, who is a complex protagonist, instead of developing Japanese characters. This could encourage the notion of han – a concern with the collective past, nationalism, and the suffering of Korea.

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As demonstrated, these films portray nationalism as a main tool of narration. However, the strong binary construction created by nationalistic and anti-Japanese feelings is blurred by the time-image, and by what the time-image stimulates. In the first section, the film The Silenced is analysed. Section 2 examines Assassination, which is followed by the analysis’ conclusion. In the conclusion, the film The Last Comfort Woman directed by Lim Seon is also discussed, as it is set in colonial Korea and was released in 2015. However, due to access complications, the film is briefly examined regarding the plot story.

4.1 Analysis I: The Silenced

In this section, The Silenced is examined by using textual analysis and Deleuze’s time-image. Here it is argued that, through the narrative and cinematography of the film, an anti-Japanese sentiment is palpable. Moreover, this reinforces Korean nationalism and the idea of a liberated country. Deleuze’s time-image is a disruption of the cinematic temporality. This usually occurs when an image of the actual present triggers a memory of a comparable image of the virtual past (Martin-Jones, “Time-Images in Traces of Love” 56). This means that the virtual past and the actual present coincide in a temporal layer that produces the time-image. As demonstrated, the memories of Korea’s colonial past still evoke the idea of an oppressed and independence seeking country. This is presented as hope, revelation, and triumphant death, in the case of The Silenced. Although the film does not directly link to the idea of revolution in the present as the films of Na Un'gyu did in the late 1920s, in the screened colonial Korea, the past alludes to resistance. The main protagonist, Ju-ran, embodied Korea’s political situation during the Japanese occupation. For example, she has to adopt a Japanese name and talk to her supervisor in Japanese, whereas she speaks Korean with her fellow classmates. Moreover, Ju- ran is depicted as a sick person. Thus, her body is sick, and according to Kyung Hyun Kim, colonial and postcolonial bodies are an area for the negotiation of Korea’s nationhood and establishment of identity (Virtual Hallyu 75). He argues that abject sick bodies presented in postcolonial contemporary Korean horror films represent a collective amnesia resulting from late capitalism. This is because the projected images combine postcolonial and colonial elements that blur the memories of the past, for example, as seen in the mixed architecture in

36 the films Public Cemetery of Wolha (Wolhaui gongdongmyoji, Kwon Cheol-hwi, 1967) and Epitaph (Gidam, Jung Sik and Jung Bum-shik, 2007) (Kim, Virtual Hallyu 60, 79-80). Kim uses Deleuze’s notion of the virtual to reach this conclusion. However, I argue that instead of amnesia, the body of Ju-ran, which represents Korea under difficult circumstances (political and economic – now and then), could be seen as another quality of the postcolonial body. In the case of The Silenced, Ju-ran’s female body embodies freedom and resistance. In a sense, Ju-ran seeks to revive the past and preserve it – a past before the colonization of Korea. This action is stimulated and revealed through the time-image. First, it is explained how other scholars explore the past and present Korea with Deleuze’s ideas. In the second section, the film is analysed by addressing the memories that The Silenced recalls. The third section focuses on the time-image in the film.

4.1.1 Past and Present of Colonial Korea

Korean films are known for their political essence (Lee, Contemporary Korean Cinema 16). They address events that initiated, for example, unrest in society. Several genres have explored polemical events of the past, with genres such as science fiction and horror being the most distinctive. For instance, the film 2009 Lost Memories is set in a future where Japan has won the Second World War. In the film, the main protagonist travels through time to change Korea’s history, and thus its future. Other films that explore the different layers of the past and present include horror productions such as Memento Mori (Yeogogoedam dubunjjae iyagi, Kim Tae-yong and Min Kyu-dong, 1999) and A Tale of Two Sisters (Janghwa, Hongryeon, Kim Jee-woon, 2003), which Anna Powell analyses in her book Deleuze and Horror Film (2005). Powell argues that in these horror films the past ‘haunts’ the present (11). The perseverance of the past blocks the flow of the present into the future. Powell states, “The past threatens to dominate the present and also to shape the future in its own replicated image which brings stasis” (Powell 11 in Martin-Jones, “Time-Images in Traces of Love” 57). This is a possible view of the relationship between past and present. David Martin-Jones suggests that in the film Traces of Love (Gaeulro, Kim Dae-seung, 2006), instead of blocking the present, the past appears within the present in order to provide information to it (“Time-Images in Traces of Love” 57). Indeed, the past and present’s relationship can have several meanings, depending on the genre and era of the films.

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In this research, the past and present correspond to Martin-Jones’ notion, as the projected past emerges in the present, providing it with information. This does not block the future; rather it stimulates the imagining of the future. The past provides information to adapt itself to the actual present situation. In other words, the persistence of the virtual past in the present manifests itself at four different levels and, as I aim to demonstrate, has four different functions. These include the following: (1) to not forget the terrible past (inform the present), (2) to provoke a nationalistic and, to a certain extent, anti-Japanese sentiment, (3) to cope with the past and the present socio-political circumstances of the country, and (4) to give hope for the future. The latter is the result of the negotiation between past and present memories. Although the analysed films raise an anti-Japanese and nationalistic sentiment by acknowledging these emotions, the country is allowed to cope with its past and present – and imagine a possible future.

4.1.2 Memories of a Colonial Past

The Silenced is set in 1938 in Gyeongseong during the Japanese occupation. Ju-ran, also known by her Japanese name, Shizuko (played by Park Bo-young), is a young girl who is sent to a girls’ boarding school that also functions as a sanatorium. Ju-ran is very sick. In order to help her recover, the headmistress (played by Uhm Ji-won) administers medicines to Ju-ran that slowly improve her physical condition. Ju-ran befriends Yeon-deok/ Kazue (played by Park So-dam), whose dead and disappeared friend’s name was also Shizuko. As Ju-ran’s health improves, she begins to feel strange changes in her condition. Moreover, she notices that, one after another, her classmates/roommates are disappearing. Ju-ran and her friend uncover the dark truth about the institution and its treatments that are supported by the Japanese Imperial Army. This plot clearly depicts the Japanese and the Korean collaborators as an enemy that restricts and supresses Korea. From Ju-ran/Shizuko’s first day at the institution, she is confronted by the strict rules of Imperial Japan. She has to surrender all her clothing and personal items to the headmistress’ assistant and behave in a controlled and almost artificial way. The latter is depicted in the scene in which Ju-ran takes the medicine with the other girls – first in their room and later in the classroom. On her first day, Ju-ran asks whether she can keep her diary. The assistant approaches her and yells in Japanese “guidance/conduct” while hitting her. The

38 assistant says that those are the school rules and takes the diary from Ju-ran’s hands. This scene reflects the oppression of Korea under Japanese rule. Similar to Korea, Ju-ran is not allowed to record her own (hi) story in the way she chooses, as she is not allowed to keep her diary. Instead, Ju-ran’s diary is substituted by a Japanese one in which she has to report her new regulated life. Ju-ran’s first day is key to her future memories, as these will guide her toward seeking the truth and longing for her own freedom, which is triggered by the time- image. In this sense, her imagining of an alternative future depends on her virtual memories, as the power of articulating her own history, her own past, has been extracted from her. What is striking in this scene is that the assistant initially speaks Korean, but when she ‘disciplines’ Ju-ran and removes the diary, she speaks Japanese. This triggers the association of Japan in the colonial period with aggressive, strict, and evil individuals (as presented at the end of the film when the viewer discovers that the girls have been used as laboratory guinea pigs). Therefore, by depicting the suppression and ‘disciplining’ of Koreans, collective memories are evoked. These are memories that individuals recognise and, by watching the film, remember and become aware of the past in the present. Subsequently, Ju-ran receives more medicines to become stronger and to be selected to go to Tokyo – a dream of Yeon-deok/Kazue and her former friend, Yuka. In the film, Tokyo symbolizes the place of freedom and future. However, the idea of Tokyo as a possible future is crushed by Ju-ran, as she, firstly, is selected to go to Tokyo instead of Yuka, and, secondly, she rebels against the institution and the Japanese rule by attempting to escape – consequently killing the soldiers and the headmistress. This implies that Ju-ran/Korea attempts to imagine her/its own future in order to articulate the devaluing of the political regional situation. As Andreas Huyssen states, “We need both past and future to articulate our political, social, and cultural dissatisfactions with the present state of the world” (6). Ju-ran desired to go to Japan as it is portrayed as a modern country, but, at the same time, she could not forget the deeds of the Japanese Imperial Army – the torture and cruel experiments that she and others had to undergo. In this sense, Ju-ran and Korea still negotiates with the colonial past. Japan is regarded as the modern country which Korea aspires to be, but the past prevents to fully engage in a dynamic and peaceful relationship. Furthermore, Ju-ran is portrayed as a shy, weak girl who does not speak loudly. However, at the end of the movie, she obtains a voice – literally and figuratively. This is portrayed in the scene when she screams and all the glass cabinets break. Now, she has a voice and power. She is willing to fight and break-free from the Japanese soldiers and the evil

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Korean collaborators. Thus, she represents Korean hope during the colonial period while evoking the idea of freedom. Ju-ran’s embodiment of hope is not the only way in which she induces the idea of freedom. Freedom is also portrayed as a metaphor through her clothing colour. In the first encounter with Ju-ran, she wears a red dress, which can be associated with Japan and a pre- colonial Korea. For this reading, I focus on pre-colonial Korea, as Ju-ran’s memories are her own from the start. This means that, in a figuratively sense, Korea has not yet been occupied by the Japanese. Ju-ran is responsible for her own acts, but subsequently her freewill is removed. This occurs when she enters the Japanese-run institution. Here, she follows the orders and rules of the school. Ju-ran’s dress transforms into a dark grey/black one, which symbolises her oppression. The third and final stage of her transformation is when her dressing-gown is light blue. Here she is powerful. She seeks freedom and revenge, as all her friends have died. Ju-ran’s embodiment and metaphoric representation evoke emotions that have been selected in order to make a difference in society – a difference that implies a triumphant but painful past. It inspires nationalism, as these virtual emotions rise again when they are confronted with the past that portrays a far more preferable and liberated Korea. As Alon Confino suggests, these memories not only have been selected, but they also limit provocative emotions that can become a “socio-cultural mode of action” (1390). This ‘action’ then refers to the imagination of a collective memory that helps to cope with the past in the present.

4.1.3 Time-image in The Silenced

In The Silenced, the time-image appears in an important moment of the narration. This is Ju- ran’s transition point in her metamorphosis, when she and Yeon-deok discover the files and projections of the experiments. In this case, the time-image appears through the superimposing of the virtual past of Ju-ran’s first weeks and their actual present moment (see Figure 1), in which Ju-ran and the viewer know that Yeon-deok left her former friend, Shizuko, to die alone behind a closet in the old, abandoned room. The time-image disrupts the temporality of the cinematic image, as the past is superimposed onto the present. One can see the present represented as the state of curiosity and provocation of a possible revolt as they seek the truth. The past is screened as a happy

40 but empty memory, as the girls know that they are not seeing their memories, but the memories that the Japanese Imperial Army and Korean collaborators selected. It is their ‘joyful’ unknown memories of the past that are disrupted by the present memories of a colonial time. This is a moment of revelation, which corresponds to the time-image. It is a moment of clarity and understanding of their actual situation – a moment that sparks a ‘revolution’/fury against the Japanese soldiers and Korean collaborators, such as the headmistress. This ‘revolution’ is accomplished as Ju-ran kills all her enemies. Nevertheless, the main protagonist dies in a triumphant death.

Figure 1: Time-image in The Silenced. The superimposition of past and present in the body of Ju-ran and on the wall. Screenshot.

The time-image is a moment of revelation, a trigger of the ostensibly enjoyable memory. However, these past and present memories are subjugated to the ideology of nationalism, as the film portrays the idea of an original non-Japanese regulated Korea that triumphs over the actual Japanese government. As Tsuyoshi Hasegawa and Kazuhiko Togo indicate, nationalism reflects the economic and social progress of Korea (2-3). However, it also corresponds with the introduction of the neo-liberal policies applied by the Korean state during the late twentieth century. If one relates the emergence of nationalism to economic progress, what does this current re-emergence of nationalism mean? As analysed here, nationalism is a means to

41 surpass difficult periods and to unify individuals by providing hope. Perhaps, because times are challenging in Korea (due to political unrest, strict policies, youth unemployment, tense relations with neighbours), the presented bodies have not amnesia as a symptom of late capitalism as Kyung Hyun Kim claims (2011). Instead, these sick abject bodies seek a means to preserve the (non-colonized) past by writing their own history, which is enabled through the time-image. Kim did not use time-image as his tool of analysis, however, by using this tool, it can be seen that fragments of time evoke the idea of remembrance, as these bodies seek the truth. The pervasive memories of colonial Korea, are not haunting the present (Hasegawa and Togo 2), but these memories are once again solidifying the past image in order to help individuals find a collective image toward the future. This ‘reorientation’ of memory, according to Roland Bleiker and Young-ju Hoang is “an essential component for the construction of a more peaceful political climate on the peninsula” (196). Although the film inspires an anti-Japanese sentiment that evokes nationalism, the film brings – more directly – another perspective to the past memories. These memoires allow the imagining of a future and politicize the actual present by demanding the past truth.

4.2 Analysis II: Assassination

In this section, the film Assassination is examined by using Deleuze’s notion of time-image while considering socio-political and economic aspects of Korea, and by applying textual analysis. In the case of Assassination, this is achieved through photographs. These memories are presented in a subtle manner by mimicking or displaying the actual photograph. This evokes collective memories of Korea by displaying the portraits of independence fighters. Moreover, the film stimulates a nationalistic feeling and anti-Japanese sentiment by presenting Korean collaborators and Japanese soldiers as ruthless and evil individuals. At the end, liberation is accomplished but at a cost. Not being forgotten and telling the truth is the biggest concern connoted in the film. In the next section, it is demonstrated how collective memories of colonial Korea are depicted in the film. This is followed by an analysis of the time-image.

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4.2.1 Do Not Forget Me: Collective Memories of a Triumphant Present

As Astrid Erll suggests, memories are “presents of the remembering” (8), which allows individuals to cope with the past. In the case of Korea, the cinematic representation of traumatic memories such as the Japanese occupation provides the opportunity to obtain a voice and articulate their version of the past, as Koreans have been restricted to do so by the Japanese themselves, the totalitarian government, and then by focusing on other important traumatic national memories. Films are a narrative means to interpret, reconstruct, and materialise collective memories (Wang 310) that help to cope with the past, as these shared memories are considered a therapeutic practice (Sturken 16). When regarding the film, Assassination is an allegory of forgetting and remembering. In its entirety, the film is an allusion to collective memories. Assassination is based on a true story and intertwines real events with fictional ones. Three independence fighters, Ahn Ok-yun (played by actress Jun Ji-hyun), Chu Sang-ok a.k.a ‘Big Gun’ (played by Cho Jin-woong), and Hwang Deok-sam (played by actor Choi Deok- moon) are selected by Kim Koo and Kim Won-bong, who were real, non-fictional independence fighters, to assassinate a Japanese general and a Korean pro-Japan businessman. Both have committed heinous crimes, including the killing of an entire village. The film moves between past and present, not only fictional but also real one, as settings and advancement of the independence movement are acutely and chronologically depicted in the film. From the opening scene, the spectator is presented with the polarization of characters. There is a clear differentiation between ‘good’ and ‘evil,’ between independence fighters and Japanese soldiers. Korean collaborators are portrayed as greedy and selfish individuals, as they sacrifice the lives of family members and fellow Koreans just to obtain money. Imperial Japanese soldiers are represented as almost inhuman and ruthless individuals who would kill anyone without mercy. For example, Kawaguchi Shunsuke, a lieutenant in the Kwantung Army18 and bridegroom-to-be of Mitsuko, kills a young girl who accidentally hit him on the head with a flower vase. Subsequently, he clarifies that the number of Koreans he had killed

18 The Kwantung Army was one of the most privileged group in the Imperial Japanese Army. They are held responsible for severe war crimes such as human experimentation. One of the most notable cases is Unit 731 located in Pingfang, Harbin, in China, where Chinese and Koreans were subjugated to human experiments and numerous tortures (McCurry, 27 February 2011, The Guardian).

43 was not three (as indicated with his finder) but instead it was 300. On the other hand, independence fighters are depicted as fearless, smart, and compassionate, as they demonstrate no anxiety towards death, speak several languages (Chinese and Japanese), and value all civilian lives, as seen in the scene when the chosen independence fighters discuss their plan. In this scene, the person who selected them (Kim Won-bong) indicates that they cannot kill civilians, not even Japanese civilians, as all civilians are innocent. This emphasis on the Korean independence fighters’ humanity is contrasted against the inhuman – almost monstrous – character of the Japanese soldiers. In this sense, the binary construction of characters – the hero and anti-hero – reinforces the nationalistic sentiment. Furthermore, the film depicts the preoccupation that Korea has with remembering and forgetting collective memories. Collective memories are shared common events, which individuals of a community agreed to the importance of these past occurrences, and they become part of the cultural heritage (Schwartz, Fukuoka, and Takita-Ishii 254; Halbwachs, 1980). One of these events is the Japanese occupation of Korea from 1910 to 1945. In the film, after the liberation of Korea, everyone is celebrating. However, Kim Won-bong is not happy. Kim Koo asks Kim Won-bong what troubles him, and Kim Won-bong answers: “People will forget them, right?” Kim Won-bong is preoccupied with the disappearance of the people who fought for the Korean liberation (see Figure 2).

Figure 2: “People will forget them, right?” Kim Won-bong drinks a shot for the fallen ones. In this image, he lights up the drinks of the deceased, so the alcohol evaporates, symbolizing that the others also drunk a shot. Screenshot.

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He is concerned with not forgetting the past and the memories of the independence fighters. Moreover, the film as a whole is concerned with history and collective memories. These collective memories are resurrected by addressing actual events of the past. For instance, Kim Won-bong and Kim Koo are not fictional names; both Kim’s were independence fighters during the Japanese occupation of Korea. Additionally, the spectator can identify collective memories articulated in the use of photographs. As demonstrated in the next section, collective memories are recognized by the time-image, which stimulates the persistence of these and the imagining of a future. Another scene that clearly portrays the preoccupation of the film with memories is the closing scene. After a close-up of Ahn Ok-yun’s face, there is a cut and suddenly the spectator relives the memories of Ahn Ok-yun in the form of flashbacks. These memories recall moments of joy, which are seen when she is dancing and smiling. However, there are also melancholic memories, as she remembers the last words uttered by the assistant of Hawaii Pistol, in which he asked Ahn Ok-yun to not forget them. Ahn Ok-yun remembers everything and lives to pass it on, ensuring that the memories depicted in the future are not the untrue ones, as she takes justice into her own hands by killing the traitor at the end. The main female protagonist, once again, does not have amnesia; rather, she is the reaffirmation of memories. She preserves these memories and ensures that the representation of the past is written in a truthful manner – she does so by murdering the Korean collaborator. At the same time, Ahn Ok-yun’s actions evokes the imagination of a possible future, as after killing the traitor, Ahn Ok-yun stares into the open field and recalls the recent memories (see Figure 3).

Figure 3: A ‘clean’ future. Ahn Ok-yun stares at this field after killing the traitor. There is a cut to her face in close-up, followed by flashbacks (memories of her colleagues). Screenshot.

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As Erll and Powell imply, recalling the past shapes the imagination of the future (Erll 7; Powell 11 in Martin-Jones, “Time-Images in Traces of Love” 57). Therefore, this last scene could be seen as a metaphor of Korea staring into a truthful and proud future, where they have a voice to tell their story. This preoccupation with the preservation and prevalence of a true past surfaces in a period that was and is still dealing with the past memories of the Japanese occupation, as in 2015 it was the 70th anniversary of the end of occupation in Korea. Furthermore, in the same year an agreement was made concerning apologies from Japan towards Korean comfort women, which raised resentment from Korean citizens (BBC, 28 December 2015). As seen in the box-office profit of the film, the representation of colonial Korea with a nationalistic sentiment is a success formula for Assassination. As Patrick Michel points out, the socio- political circumstances of the region, such as territorial disputes and the 70th anniversary of liberation from Japan, are a push factor for this success (9 September 2015, The Atlantic). Many more films concerned with colonial Korea were made in 2016. For example Spirits' Homecoming, The Handmaiden directed by Park Chan-wook, Love, Lies set in the 1940s and directed by Park Heung-sik, Princess Deokhye (also known as The Last Princess, Deokhyeongjoo, Hur Jin-Ho) about an independence fighter who has to bring the kidnapped princess back to Korea, and Secret Agent (Jee-woon Kim) about the activities of an anti- Japan independence movement. Apparently, filmmakers have detected that a colonial context echoes with the audience. This emphasises not only the nationalistic aspect of Korea, but also the perseverance of collective memoires. As Choi Dong-hoon – Assassination’s director – comments,

When I was looking through photos of the independence fighters, I came across a lot of people that have gone down in history, but also photos of people whose names we would never know. It gave me a strange feeling. I began to wonder how they lived, where their courage came from. I wanted to make a film remembering those who should never be forgotten (Choi in Won, 22 June 2015, The Korea Herald).

He reveals the concern and fear of forgetting the past – a past that unites the nation in challenging moments – as collective memories are shared events of the past that members of a community recognize and have agreed upon (Schwartz, Fukuoka, and Takita-Ishii 254; Halbwachs, 1980). In a sense, the film then makes a statement to not forget the past and

46 treasure Korean nationals who fought for the liberation of the country – it alleges to the persistence of memory in the shared common sentiment of being Korean.

4.2.2 Time-image in Assassination

In Assassination, the time-image is presented with photographs – real and fictional ones. The first one is discreetly displayed after the opening scene of the film. It is a photograph portraying Yun Bong-gil who was an independence fighter and was killed by the Japanese after he detonated a bomb that killed various soldiers during the Shanghai International Settlement in 1932 (see Figure 4). Therefore, this image of the virtual past is projected into the actual present of the spectator in a screened fictional past. This screened photo presents the heritage of Korea. It attempts to preserve the memories of the past and display them to the public in a subtle manner. By combining past and present in one temporal layer, in the case of Assassination, the spectator is encouraged to imagine and remember the triumphant past of the country, even before the fictional story develops.

Figure 4: Time-image in Assassination (I). A photo of Yun Bong-gil, an independence fighter who was captured and killed by the Imperial Japanese Army. The character touching the photography is Kim Koo – a non-fictional name – leader of the Korean independence movement against Imperial Japan. Screenshot.

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The second time-image is more complex. This image combines the virtual past (the real photo of the independence fighter) with the actual present (the film) and the fictional virtual past (the previously shown photo in the film) (see Figure 5). The three temporal layers coincide in one image that emphasises the memory of the real virtual past, i.e. an event that happened in real life and was documented in a photograph. This photo is recreated in the film. The spectator who has knowledge on the subject will recognize this indicator. Therefore, the photograph triggers the remembrance of the common heritage – a collective memory that provokes the action of remembering and not forgetting the national past. Moreover, this photograph was also displayed at the beginning of the film (see Figure 4). In this sense, the film plays with fictional temporal layers, as one section of the photo being taken is previously depicted in the film as an actual photo. Thus, the time-image allows the persistence of the real virtual past in the memories of Korean citizens – stimulating the recollection of memories rather than amnesia.

Figure 5: Time-image in Assassination (II). Above the photo preparation. Below the photo taken. This is simulated by the black-and-white colour, which evokes the idea of an actual photo. This image, and especially the pose of Hwang Deok-sam (on the right), triggers the association of this picture with the previous actual one. Screenshot.

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4.3 Conclusion Analysis

The Silenced and Assassination are very divergent films in terms of story and film genre. However, these films have more in common than what is perceived at first instance. The first direct and visible common elements that these films share are that they are set in colonial Korea, they have female main protagonists, and they were released in 2015. The same applies to the film The Last Comfort Woman, as it shares the same common elements. This film is based on a true story and presents the narrative of an elderly woman who sees the picture of a friend on television. They were ‘comfort women’ during World War II. The woman, who lives in Japan, decides to go to Korea and tells her story. The other metaphors that these three cases depict are related to the persistency and remembrance of ‘truthful’ memories. This entails the triumphant, non-censured, past of Korea, which values the ‘uncorrupted’ and pre- Japanese occupation nation. Perhaps, this could be seen as a longing for unification, as Korea before the Japanese rule period was unified. Unlike del Pilar Álvarez’ claim which sees late contemporary Korean films as displaying a weakened nationalistic sentiment, as I have demonstrated, these films portray a strong sense of nationalism. Both films present Korean collaborators and Japanese soldiers as cruel and evil individuals. On the other hand, Koreans and independence fighters are depicted as strong, smart, and determined as they seek independence. This binary construction of hero and anti-hero engages with the discourse of nationalism, as the hero wants independence and is loyal to his country. However, the presented nationalism acquires another shape in these films, as it is not only related to economic developments such as several scholars have pointed out (Ghosh, 2012; Kim, 2011; Choi, 2010; Jeon, 2009; Bleiker and Hoang, 2006; Kim, 2004). Rather, as demonstrated in the case studies, the displayed nationalism emerges from the visualisation of a triumphant past. This past unifies Korean individuals as it recalls (fictional and real) memories of a collective past in which Korea was one. The nationalistic sentiment in The Silenced and Assassination implies the notion of a ‘truthful memory’, a past in which Korea has its own voice and delivers its own version of the past. This is camouflaged and encouraged by the elements of freedom and resistance presented in the film, as seen in the narrative and metaphors. Furthermore, the implied search for a truthful memory becomes visible when using Deleuze’s time-image. In The Silenced, the time-image is presented through the superimposition of past and present memories that serves as a revelation and triggers to seek the truth, as the protagonist longs for the pre-

49 colonized and joyous past. In Assassination, the time-image is depicted through photographs – real and fictional ones. These photographs indicate a collective memory that the viewer can recognize, and it evokes the persistence of colonial memoires, which reinforces nationalism. In the case of Assassination, the truth – which represents the non-censured and/or unaltered past by external forces other than Korea – is envisioned as the ultimate nationalistic deed. As seen on the last scene, the female protagonist murders the traitor and preserves the continuation of the truthful memory, as she kills the person who was altering the truth about the Korean collaborators past. Seeking the truth is a fundamental element of these colonial memories as seen in The Silenced and Assassination. Female colonial bodies might be seen as a representation of persistent memories and seeking the truthful past – a past articulated and reoriented through its own voice. Moreover, this voice reinforces nationalistic feelings in order to form the sentiment of a nation, which could lead to a stable political state in the region (Bleiker and Young-ju Hoang 196), as viewers become aware of their past in the present period. Contrasted to Kim’s notion of amnesic colonial and postcolonial bodies (in the case of horror films), the female protagonists in The Silenced do not forget the past; rather, they long for the past and seek a way to record and preserve their valuable memories. Additionally, The Last Comfort Woman and Assassination’s female protagonists also seek to preserve the correct memory of the past. In the former, the elderly character wants to tell her story of how the situation really was. As for the latter, the film alludes to triumphant memories of colonial Korea using photographs. Thus, these case studies allude to the idea of a Korean past which is written by and for its citizens who, currently, seek to expose what actually happened during the Japanese colonization.

5. Conclusion

This research attempted to understand and explain the representation of colonial memories in Korean contemporary film productions of 2015. The central question of this research is the following: How is Korean nationalism shaped through reflections of (collective) memory in contemporary Korean films during the Japanese occupation? The selected case studies are films released in 2015 and set in colonial Korea: The Silenced, Assassination, and The Last

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Comfort Woman. The latter film has not been analysed in detail due to access problems. However, its plot has been considered for the general analysis and conclusions. In order to answer this question, first, it was demonstrated that colonial memories presented in films are a possible reflection of collective memories, as recalling memories is an active practice in the present. This implies that individuals recognise the period and references they see in the films. At the same time, spectators interpret these cinematic memories. This problematizes the interpretation given here, as there can always be more possible readings of a text. Spectators have their own individual memories, which are related to collective ones. This entails that each spectator sees and interprets divergent issues in the selected films. The recognition and validation of the presented memories creates a sense of belonging to a group, to a community, which shares the same past and notion of who they were, who they are, and who they will be (Wang 307). In Korean cinema, this sentiment of belonging is stimulated by nationalism, as it encourages the idea of pertaining to the nation. In the Korean cinematic history, colonial memories have been depicted through a nationalistic sentiment that reinforced the dichotomy between Japan and Korea by portraying the former as evil and the latter as the victim of Imperial Japan. The nationalistic sentiment, thus, served as a unifying element for individuals who had found a shared history and anti- Japanese feelings depicted in films. Furthermore, by understanding memory as an umbrella term, interdisciplinary qualities, such as divergent tools and perspectives, connected to the idea of memory are revealed. This allows the exploration of notions of the past and present, and also the future. As seen in the analysis chapter, recalling and visualizing the past encourages imagining a future, which could be seen as one of the properties attributed to the idea of nationalism. Chapter 3 demonstrates and argues that colonial memories in Korean films are a persistent memory in every decade. Moreover, these memories intertwine with nationalism – a key aspect when shaping the cinematic memories, as the presented nationalism evokes the feeling of belonging to the Korean nation. External factors, such as dictatorship, economic crisis, and governmental policies, have determined how and which memories are important to represent. Subsequently, when greater freedom of expression was obtained in the late 1990s, filmmakers focused on recent national issues, making the film political and critical, which are the strongest characteristics of Korea cinema (Lee, Contemporary Korean Cinema 16). Throughout Korean cinematic history of the twentieth century, it is clear that the concept of nationalism has transformed over time. Hence, in this study, nationalism is considered a fluid notion determined and constructed by the socio-political and economic

51 circumstances of the country. As demonstrated in chapter 3, Korean nationalism started from the idea of revolution, then moved to topics such as liberty, victimization, patriotism, evil vs. good, and finally, to the critical representation of modernization, forgotten traditions, and liberation, in which fiction and real historical facts converge. Therefore, during the Korean cinematic history, anti-Japanese films prevailed. These contemporary filmic productions generally combine historical events with fiction, such as demonstrated with the case studies. Several scholars argue that contemporary cinematic representations are a result of the country’s rapid economic development (e.g. Ghosh, 2012; Kim, 2011; Choi, 2010; Jeon, 2009; Bleiker and Hoang, 2006; Kim, 2004). This research demonstrates that contemporary references to colonial cinematic memories still use nationalism – not as the result of economic improvement, but as a tool to cope with the traumatic past of the country, as films also incorporate historical facts. This nationalism, then, evokes divergent reactions than just patriotism, victimization, or modernization. Furthermore, Korean films negotiate their past through several strategies related to portrayals of nationalism. This is achieved by depicting symbols (such as during the Japanese colonization) and (dis)embodiment of traumas. Another strategy is the use of the past as a marketing strategy applied by film directors, who combine fiction with local historical stories. In addition to this, Koreans deal with their past through the use of a philosophical concept denominated han, and, as demonstrated here, through the use of metaphors. Therefore, nationalism in the Korean context can also be interpreted differently, as a form of negotiating the past in the present. In order to analyse this temporal notion of memories in the case studies, the selected analytic tool is concerned with temporality on the screens, i.e. Deleuze’s time-image. Textual analysis is used to examine the films The Silenced and Assassination too. Furthermore, this allows for the extension, reconfiguration, and application of Deleuze’s concepts to non-Western films. The term time-image refers to disruption of the cinematic temporality. For instance, the time-image becomes visible between scenes interrupted by a sudden cut, or the desynchronization of sound and image. This image emerges from the combination of two divergent temporal layers. In the selected films, the time-image embraces the remembrance of the past in the present. This is revealed as a superimposed projection of past and present memories in The Silenced, and in Assassination, as a photograph. In the analysis it is stated that the case studies depict an anti-Japanese and nationalistic sentiment. However, the nationalistic sentiment in The Silenced and Assassination implies the notion of a ‘truthful’ memory a past in which Korea articulates its

52 own version of this memory in a triumphant manner by not allowing external forces to re- write and determine their story. This entails that individuals turn onto their collective memories. This is camouflaged and encouraged by the elements of freedom and resistance presented in the films. Nevertheless, this notion of nationalism is only visible when the time- image is considered. All three films emphasise the remembrance of memories by addressing real historical events intertwined with fiction. Furthermore, the films’ narrative reflects the persistence of discovering the past and what ‘actually’ occurred, as all protagonists seek to reveal the truth. This evokes the idea of not forgetting what happened. It is important to remark that these memories are seen as true memories, as the films address the seeking of the truth and its preservation. For instance, in The Silenced, the main protagonist seeks the truth and wishes to preserve her own memories of pre-Japanese occupation, as she loses her ability to record her memories in a diary. Instead, she has to report her new memories to the school director. Encouraged by the revelation of the time-image, in which she sees and recalls past and present memories, she seeks the truth behind the disappearance of her class- and roommates. In Assassination, the time-image triggers the past in the present by displaying a real photo of an independence fighter in the film. Subsequently, the fictional characters imitate this photo – once again recalling memories that intertwine past and present. The film as a whole alludes to the preservation and remembrance of colonial memories, thus the ending can be interpreted as a metaphor for imaging the future by murdering the Korean collaborator who ‘modified’ the past, as people believed he was a national hero. Hence, the future is imagined by coping with the past. In this sense, female colonial bodies might be seen as a representation of persistent memories and seeking the truthful past – a past now articulated and reoriented through its own voice. This voice reinforces nationalistic sentiments in order to form the sentiment of a nation, which may give rise to a stable political state in the region (Bleiker and Young-ju Hoang 196). These films recall the collective memories of the colonial past, which, by combining divergent strategies, reinforce nationalistic sentiment. However, this depiction of nationalism differs from previous patriotic, victimized, and modern views, as it can also be interpreted as a possible ‘escape’ into the imagination of the future through negotiation of past and present. In conclusion, analysing nationalism and temporality in Korean films reveals how the country negotiates with its past. Nationalism is a tool used to enhance the possibility of imagining and engaging with a community. This community, i.e. the Korean nation, copes with its past by remembering it and negotiating it in the present time, which is connoted in

53 the time-image and the embodiment of the main characters. The time-image and embodiment reveal a triumphant view of Korea. This implies the strengthening of a national sentiment and the possibility of imagining a future. By emphasising nationalism and anti-Japanese sentiment throughout the film’s narrative, the time-image reveals moments in which the notion of nationalism is not cut-clear – it is blurred, as past and present coincide in one image and binary constructions become dimmed, intertwining past and present feelings toward Japan and colonial Korea. As I aimed to demonstrate, the manifestation of the past in the present has four divergent functions: first, to not forget the traumatic past, but to remember it and thereby inform the present. Second, the present past in Korean cinema evokes a nationalistic and, to a certain extent, anti-Japanese sentiment. Third, recalling the past could be seen as a way of coping with the past and the present socio-political situation of Korea. Finally, remembering the past enables the possibility to imagine a future. This future is visualised because of the presence and analysis of the time-image. Therefore, the time-image reveals how Korea copes with its past in the present circumstances of the country, as the time-image stimulates remembrance which compels the individual to re-evaluate these depicted memories in another contextual present. The cinematic time-image depicts moments of revelation and freedom, and stimulates seeking and preserving the truth – a truth that enables individuals to advance, and imagines a future not separated from the painful and triumphant memories of colonial Korea. Nationalism in contemporary Korean films, therefore, can also be interpreted as negotiating the past in the present time, and not merely because of economic developments. Nationalism can be seen as a tool to negotiate the remembered memories that help to cope with actual socio-political and economic circumstances of Korea, and the relationship between Japan and Korea (of now and then), as the cinematic memories of colonial Korea echo in the present of the viewer. This is possible through the recognition of the collective memories correlated with the cinematic representations of nationalism. In other words, nationalism is a triumphant tool that encourages reflection, a community sense, and imaginings of a collective future through the negotiation of the screened and recalled past. Korea has dealt with traumatic occurrences throughout the twentieth century – be it social, political, and economic issues. During recent years, Korean filmmakers have addressed colonial Korea. This indicates that, perhaps now, it is the time to remember, preserve, and value these memories that could help the country to not only cope with the past, but also to move beyond its challenges and imagine a future – a future in which Korea

54 remembers its own version of the past that unites its nation. As Laura Nelson suggests, “Past and future are the poles of heritage and destiny” (186). This implies that by regarding the cinematic colonial past, Koreans can create and preserve memories, as they are stimulated by the screened images and the contemporary socio-political circumstances of the country. In a sense, this allows them to visualise a future, which helps Koreans to elaborate a shared heritage. In order to enhance the understanding of Korean collective memories, a possible future research addressing this topic should include Korean reception of colonial films, as reception studies of these films is scarce. Another future research should involve a comparative study between Japanese and Korean colonial films. This could reveal a more complex and dynamic perspective on Korean collective memories.

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6.1 Film List

A Frozen Flower (Ssanghwajeom). Dir. Yoo Ha. , 2008. A Petal (Kkonnip). Dir. Jang Sun-woo. Miracin Korea, 1996. Arirang. Dir. Na Un-gyu. Cinema Productions, 1926. A Single Spark (Areumdaun cheongnyeon Jeon Tae-il). Dir. Park Kwang-su. Age of Planning, 1995. Assassination (Amsal). Dir. Choi Dong-hoon. Showbox, 2015. A Tale of Two Sisters (Janghwa, Hongryeon). Dir. Kim Jee-woon. Cineclick Asia, Big Blue Film, 2003. Black Republic (Geudeuldo uri-cheoreom). Dir. Park Kwang-su. Dong-a Exports Co. Ltd., 1990. Chilsu and Mansu (Chilsuwa Mansu). Dir. Park Kwang-su. Dong-a Exports Co. Ltd., 1988. Epitaph (Gidam). Dir. Jung Sik and Jung Bum-shik. Studio 2.0, 2007. Fighter in the Wind (Baramui paiteo). Dir. Yang Yun-ho. Big Blue Film, 2004. Joint Security Area (JSA). Dir. Park Chan-wook. CJ Entertainment, 2000. King and the Clown (Wang-ui Namja). Dir. Lee Joon-ik. and CJ Entertainment, 2005. Kuro Arirang (Guro Arirang). Dir. Park Jong-won. n.k., 1989. 2009 Lost Memories (2009 Loseutumemorijeu). Dir. Lee Si-myung. CJ Entertainment, 2002. Love, Lies (Hae-eohwa). Dir. Park Heung-sik. , 2016. Masquerade (Gwanghae: Wang-i Doen Namja). Dir. Choo Chang-min. CJ Entertainment, 2012. Memento Mori (Yeogogoedam dubunjjae iyagi). Dir. Kim Tae-yong and Min Kyu-dong. Cinema Service, 1999. Moebius. Dir. Kim Ki-duk. , 2013. Modern Boy (Modeonboi). Dir. Jung Ji-Woo. CJ Entertainment, 2008. Ode to My Father (Gukjesijang). Dir. Yoon Je-kyoon. CJ Entertainment, 2014. Oldboy (Oldeuboi). Dir. Park Chan-wook. Show East, 2003. Peppermint Candy (Pakha Satang). Dir. Lee Chang-dong. Shindo Films and Cineclick Asia, 1999. Princess Deokhye (Deokhyeongjoo). Dir. Hur Jin-Ho. Lotte Entertainment, 2016. Public Cemetery of Wolha (Wolhaui gongdongmyoji). Dir. Kwon Cheol-hwi. n.k., 1967.

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Radio Days (Raduio Deijeu). Dir. Gi-ho Ha. , 2008. Resurrection of the Little Match Girl (Sungnyangpali sonyeoui jaerim). Dir. Jang Sun-woo. Kihwik Cine, 2002. Roaring Currents (Myeongnyang). Dir. Kim Han min. CJ Entertainment, 2014. Secret Agent (Mil-jeong). Dir. Jee-woon Kim. Warner Bros., 2016. Seopyeonje. Dir. Im Kwon-taek. Taehung Pictures, 1993. Silmido. Dir. Kang Woo-suk. Cinema Service, 2003. Spirits' Homecoming. Dir. Cho Jung-rae. JO Entertainment, 2016. Thieves (Dodukdeul). Dir. Choi Dong-hoon. Showbox/Mediaplex, 2012. The Attorney (Byeonhoin). Dir. Yang Woo-seok. Next Entertainment World, 2013. The Good, the Bad, the Weird (Jo-eun nom nappeun nom isanghan nom). Dir. Kim Jee-woon. CJ Entertainment, 2008. The Handmaiden (Agassi). Dir. Park Chan-wook. CJ Entertainment, 2016 The Host (Goemul). Dir. Bong Joon-ho. Showbox, 2006. The Last Comfort Woman (ma-ji-mag wi-an-bu). Dir. Lim Seon. n.k., 2015. The Silenced (Gyeongseong Hakgyo: Sarajin Sonyeodeul). Dir. Lee Hae-young. Lotte Entertainment, 2015. Tidal Wave (Haeundae). Dir. Yoon Je-kyoon. CJ Entertainment, 2009. Traces of Love (Gaeulro). Dir. Kim Dae-seung. Lotte Entertainment, 2006. Veteran (Beterang). Dir. Ryoo Seung-wan. CJ Entertainment, 2015. Victory of Freedom (Jayu manse). Dir. Choe In- gru. n.k., 1946. YMCA Baseball Team (YMCA Yagudan ). Dir. Kim Hyun-seok. Myung Films, 2002.

6.2 Figures

Figure 1: Lee Hae-young. The Silenced. Time-image in The Silenced. Screenshot. Figure 2, 3, 4, and 5: Choi Dong-hoon. Assassination. Screenshot.

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