An Unattached Unit: United They Stood, Together They Fought

Injured soldiers and local civilians band together to fight the enemy — yankees and South Koreans, natch — in the stock North Korean war pic, An Unattached Unit. The time is the Korean war; the message, as current as ever. Everything, and I mean everything, must be sacrificed to protect the motherland. For the cheery Scout (Chang Gol Hyon), that means a longshot chance to marry the commander's pretty sister. For the skittish Bookkeeper (Kim Chol Hyon), a newly repaired, portable phonograph and a stash of buried money. And for the Instructor (Choe Tae-hyon), his eyesight. Even the surgeon knows that she may have to blow herself up to secure a temporary victory on behalf of this makeshift troop of unwavering patriots.

No one flinches at the idea of putting their life on the line. They may not like it when they get shot in the leg or end up with shrapnel in their face but not a single soul is second guessing the fight over flight ethos that guides their actions. This is a film in direct opposition to the feel-good individualism that leads to the "one man saves all" trope of Hollywood. The unit's commander (Choe Pong-sik) is dedicated, fairly clear-headed, and a team-builder. What he isn't is clever, invincible, or a motivational speaker. He's a man of few words in a way that's almost bland. Not that Kang Jung-mo's agit-prop flick is skirting with realism. It's just that the propaganda is completely out of sync with American me-first ideals. Survival is a group concept North of the border.

Wolmi Island: Unexpected Feminism

Hollywood's misogyny is the stuff of legend. All you need to do is look at your Twitter feed for fresh reports of horrors that continue unabated. Producer Harvey Weinstein, director James Toback, studio head Roy Price, actor Tom Sizemore all now have atrocities associated with their names. Yet while the particulars of each man's offenses may make you recoil, such crimes seem hardly surprising in an industry that has so consistently portrayed women primarily as eye candy. Smart women in leading roles is still a news story in the USA circa 2017. Which is what makes my recent viewings of North Korean movies so mind-boggling. Time and time again from the 1970s (Centre Forward) to just a few years ago (The Other Side of the Mountain), female characters in North Korean flicks are shown as strong, independent, no-nonsense, and driven. Even the 1982 war pic Wolmi Island, which reflects the sexist attitudes of some recruits and officers towards the young, female communication officer who has just been sent to assist the troops, eventually reveals that any condescension is unmerited. This woman is — if anything — one of the movie's primary heroes.

When it comes to patriotism in North Korean movies, the women are never outdone by the men; director Cho Gyong-sun's Wolmi Island is no exception. Yes, she's girlish, maybe even immature, but she's committed, steely, persistent, and reveals a rebellious spirit devoted to the cause that puts all the men here to shame. You eventually learn that the commander (Choe Chang-su) is not heartless; the cook (Choe Tae-hyon), not foolish; and the master-gunner (played by the director himself!), not afraid to die. But only our heroine (Yun Su-gyong) earns our respect and never loses it by being soldierly and sisterly as the situation requires and without any need of a medal. When the gorgeous red smoke billows across the screen at the end, she was the one I missed the most.