Public despair about government responses to natural and manmade calamities seep into the storylines of Korean disaster films.
Before the premiere of “The Host,” Korean moviegoers were led to believe that it would be a monster movie. But the 2006 film directed by Oscar-winning Bong Joon-ho (“Parasite”) had a deeper . The focus was not so much on a rampaging monster emerging from the Han River in Seoul but on the recklessness and ineptitude of those in command. The monster is the result of U.S. military chemicals dumped in the river. When the Korean government fails to defend the public, powerless, innocent people are left on their own to save a child grabbed by the river beast.
“The Host” was the highest-grossing Korean film ever at the time, exceeding 13 million admissions. Its success was partly credited to torrential rain in the summer of that year. The inundation cost hundreds of billions of won in property damage and displaced tens of thousands of people from their homes. Under the circumstances, people could relate to the movie’s message, which was basically, “The real monster is not the disaster itself, but the way people respond to the disaster.”
A scene from director Bong Joon-ho’s 2006 hit “The Host.” The movie d a new success formula for Korean-style disaster movies. It also became one of the highest-grossing Korean films of all time. © Chungeorahm Films
Gang-du, a snack bar vendor near the Han River, grabs his daughter Hyun-seo’s hand as they flee from a monster that has surfaced from the river. “The Host” is a black comedy film that highlights government incompetence in an emergency situation. © Chungeorahm Films
Passengers turn into zombies in “Train to Busan,” a 2016 action horror film by director Yeon Sang-ho. On the surface, this may be yet another zombie film, but it also satirizes Korean society’s obsession with growth at breakneck speed. © Next Entertainment World
Template for Success
“The Host” cast a new template for the disaster genre. “Haeundae,” a 2009 film directed by Yoon Je-kyoon, revolved around a tsunami that slams into the most popular summer destination in Korea. It highlighted the characters’ subtle emotions and conflicts rather than death and destruction on the Busan beach. It sold more than 11 million tickets.
The emotional approach became an idiosyncratic feature of Korean disaster blockbusters amid their continued commercial success. However, some movies made in this mold turned out to be sentimental tear-jerkers, and the style eventually lost favor.
Disaster films rebounded with Yeon Sang-ho’s “Train to Busan” in 2016, featuring passengers fighting off zombies on a high-speed KTX train headed for Busan. But the flick also had elements of an “upgraded” disaster movie. The train was a metaphor for the modernization of Korea at breakneck pace. Hordes of zombies, charging in waves, represented a satire of the growth-obsessed Korean society. And higher-status characters who failed to provide enough help were a comment on destructive privileged beliefs, echoing the message of “The Host.”
Leadership in Crisis
The sinking of the Sewol ferry in 2014, which claimed the lives of hundreds of passengers, most of them high school students on a field trip, sparked public outrage when investigations revealed an absence of leadership and emergency protocol in the wake of the accident. The Korean public condemned the government for negligence. The failure to respond promptly and effectively weighed heavily on the impeachment of President Park Geun-hye.
In 2016, when the impeachment process unfolded, Koreans had more than their usual share of disaster films on offer; in addition to “Train to Busan,” there were “Tunnel,” which was about a tunnel collapse, and “Pandora,” which dealt with a nuclear power plant accident. The impeachment reflected “digital democratization” in Korea, which bloomed alongside the internet and smartphones. In the 2000s, public outcry moved more and more from physical spaces to cyberspace, where information and ideas could be shared at greater speeds and larger scales. The country’s high-speed links and deep mobile phone penetration facilitated discussion not only on political issues but also on government response to disasters. Many disaster films that followed had common critical themes: incompetence and non-transparency on the part of officials in charge and social network-based public opinion leading to tangible changes.
By looking into these trends, it is possible to read the change in Koreans’ perspective of disasters and the responses to them. Messages contained in disaster movies, such as a demand for a competent central command and timely information, reflect public anguish over the handling of real-life crises.
The disapproving tone was non-existent in 2019 films. “Exit,” which was about escaping a city filled with noxious gases, and “Ashfall,” which depicted inter-Korean collaboration in the aftermath of a fictitious volcanic eruption of Mt. Paektu (a.k.a. Mt. Baekdu), recorded 9.4 million and 8.25 million admissions, respectively. Social criticism was absent from both films; they were all about the fun of the genre and were loaded with humor. But the evolving trends in Korean disaster movies may turn yet again, motivated by the COVID-19 pandemic.
Many disaster films that followed had common critical themes: incompetence and non-transparency by officials in charge, and social network-based public opinion leading to tangible changes.
Director Lee Sang-geun’s 2019 film “Exit” added touches of humor in portraying the mayhem in a city engulfed with toxic gas. The movie thus exhibited a distinctive approach to handling a disaster. © CJ ENM
“Ashfall” is about North-South collaboration to stop further eruptions of a volcano that has awakened, threatening the entire Korean peninsula. Co-directors Lee Hae-jun and Kim Byung-seo led the 2019 film to success, injecting humor into the crisis. © CJ ENM
‘The Flu’ and COVID-19
Director Kim Sung-su’s 2013 movie “The Flu” regained attention amidst the COVID-19 pandemic. The people wearing masks in the movie poster bear an uncanny resemblance to people worldwide today. © CJ ENM
The novel coronavirus pandemic elicits eerie comparisons to “The Flu,” a 2013 film by director Kim Sung-su. It depicts panic and chaos d by a deadly respiratory virus that breaks out in a town near Seoul and spreads across the nation.
The movie opens with a scene of droplets from a sneeze floating through the air, a chilling reminder of one of the primary ways COVID-19 spreads. A later mass incineration scene is terrifying; the infected are burned alive in order to stop the spread of the virus.
Similar to other Korean disaster movies, “The Flu” questions incompetent leadership, placing more weight on accusing the government’s modus operandi instead of public fear of the horrible disease.