Night Before Independence Day: Have I Got a Story to Tell

Most times when people say "inspiring," what they really mean is "impressive" because they so rarely take any sort of action afterwards. To actually be "inspired" is a truly rare thing. So while I'd like to say that Night Before Independence Day is inspiring, whether it ends up being so remains to be seen. Although made in 1948, Choi In-kyu's captivating movie is actually a silent film in a way, one which had a single narrator's audio track added in post-production. Such a device is actually part of the Korean cinematic tradition as byeonsas — more or less, onstage voice actors — often took on the vocal parts before talkies in lieu of the tinkly pianos we tend to think of accompanying pre-sound movies on our side of the Pacific. Choi, however, doesn't do voices; if anything watching Night Before Independence Day is more akin to hearing a bedtime story told with accompanying visuals; a sordid tale involving thieves, rapists, murderers, addicts, gamblers, and double-crossers left and right.

It's all kind of loose and wild, with an antihero who wears blind man sunglasses all the time, and characters sneaking in and out of an abandoned warehouse space with the interrogator light overhead flickering on and off with cryptic meaning. Shirtless boxing matches, makeshift card games, narrowly escaped sexual assaults, greedy intravenous drug use... the action is continual and culminates in a death that launches a patriotic speech that somehow propels two surviving couples into a new idyllic world full of unexpected promise, a sunny land where men pair off with men, and women with women. Yes, Night Before Independence Day goes to some truly unexpected places. I was absolutely fascinated by it. I'd like to make a film like this. But will I? Unlikely.