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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

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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 South Korea (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.

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5 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

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6 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

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7 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 –

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8 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 Korean War, 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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9 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

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10 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

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11 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

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12 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

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14 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

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15 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

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16 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.

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17 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

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18 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

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19 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, Korean language 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

Arirang (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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20 “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.

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21 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 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

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22 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

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23 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 Black Republic (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 A Single Spark (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 Seopyeonje (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 Pansori is a Korean folk music style based on storytelling by singing, in which the stories narrated by a

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24 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

Peppermint Candy (Pakha Satang, Lee Chang-dong, 1999), Joint Security Area (Park

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.

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25 wook, 2000), The Host (Gwoemul, Bong Joon-ho, 2006), A Frozen Flower (Ssanghwajeom, Yoo Ha, 2008), The Good, the Bad, the Weird (Jo-eun nom nappeun nom isanghan nom, Kim Jee-woon, 2008), and Ode to My Father (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), The Attorney (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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26 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

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27 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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28 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

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