家族的国度

How would you describe yourself as a film-maker?
I’ve never imagined I’d be a film-maker, but after I made a documentary, people started to call me a director and I was like, OK. I was born and raised in Japan, second generation Korean; both my parents came from Jeju Island in South Korea. Even though my parents were born in South Korea, they chose North Korea as their Fatherland due to their ideology and hard experience.

After Korea became independent, they were living in Japan because during the war, they moved to Japan from South Korea. In Japan, the status for Korean people was really worse than trash: no human rights, strong discrimination. My father decided to become a human-right activist. At the time, South Korea was very politically insecure: the military government. Also, there was a severe massacre happened in Jeju Island, South Korea in 1948, and my parents lost a lot of friends and relatives: they were killed. Then my parents were like, no more South Korean government. They totally stopped believing the South and they chose the North. Though they really knew nothing about North Korea, they had great expectations.

At the time, socialism was kind of a hope for many people all over the world, maybe. Also, Kim Il-sung made a beautiful speech for Koreans in Japan. For Koreans, the South Korean government totally ignored them while North Korea kind of, played a beautiful role (as shown in Kim Il-sung's speech): if you choose North Korea as your Fatherland, we are going to give you houses, medical care, education and jobs. So why don't you come to North Korea? It's your Fatherland. And then my father totally fell in love with his speech. My father's ideology was not logical, very emotional, like mafia, Yakuza people, you know, the feelings, that he couldn't betray oyabun, the boss. But by and by, they came to know the reality of North Korea but they just couldn't deny everything in their lives and that's why they still try to believe in that country and they need to pretend to believe in the country because they have hostages: children, and grandchildren now.

But during the 60s, my father was a real activist working in a North Korean Association in Japan and he sent his sons, that is, my brothers, to North Korea, what I would say, a big mistake but at that time, more than 90, 000 Koreans living in Japan moved to NK, with big hope and dreams. It was a very political co-project by North Korea, the Jpanese Red Cross and both governments. North Korea really wanted not only people, but also money and connections; Japan wanted to kick out Korean people, for any reasons, as much as they could.

You mentioned you spent six month preparing and finished shooting the film within only two weeks. That's amazing.
Yeah (laugh). I don't know how we did it in two weeks but it was really a nightmare. Too hot, in Tokyo. And also, we really had no time. So there were moments that I really wanted to take one more, and I really had to give up so many things. The monitor was this kind of small monitor (handsign: no big than an average adult's palm) and I really couldn't see (clearly). I hope I could have a better budget, and some more time. But when I was much younger than now, at my twenties and early thirties, I was either a poor theatre play company member, or poor video journalist or something and then I became a documentary film-maker.

(But you made for New School, in New York!) Yeah, yeah, yeah, I was a bartender. I worked as a bartender, and also I had many many part-time jobs. When I was in Japan, it was a hard time even to get a job as a waitress with my identity or with my Korean name especially. But now I became Japanese representative for Oscar, my mom is so happy! It is really a miracle. My friends are happy with that, too. It's interesting. When my brothers were in Japan, it was really the worst time for Korean people living in Japan but now many things have changed.

Also during the film-making, maybe you and your father reconciled with each other?
Yeah. During the documentary making, I think, without a video camera, I couldn't rebuild the relationship between my father and I. When he passed away three years ago, he was really happy to hear that my documentaries started to go to many film festivals. With documentaries , too, I went to many film festivals. He really wanted me to have South Korean passport. He said that in the documentary and that's why the association didn't like it. (Laugh) He was really honest, more mentally honest in my documentary and that was thankful. My mom said being honest was his last gift for me, for my film-making.

家族的国度
二次大战结束后，一个民族截然分成两个不同体制的国家，也让漂泊在异国他乡的族人望穿秋水，不知何处是故乡。
20世纪70年代，从小出生在日本的朝鲜人松浩（井浦新 饰）按照父亲的命令回到从未踏足的故乡朝鲜，以支持共产主义事业的建设。
-------故事讲述到这里，就已经满是泪水与心绪了！

日本有一个复杂而特殊的群体——“在日朝鲜人”。这个群体的存在源于日本在东亚的侵略史。二战结束以后，朝鲜半岛局势动荡，许多在战争时期被日本征来做劳工的朝鲜人留了下来，在此地生根，生活。到了21世纪，这个人口群已经发展到70多万。日本人统称他们为“在日”。“在日”以来到日本的年代又分为新老两大群体，其生活现状、意识形态等天差地别。其生活状态、意识形态等天差地别。老一辈的“在日”，始终把自己当作朝鲜人，认为有朝一日终归是要“回家”的。而年轻一辈的“在日”，却有着自己的想法。

1950-1980年间，朝鲜最高领导人金日成发起了“在日朝鲜人归国运动”，在此20多年间，约有9万人回流朝鲜，包括商人、知识分子及平民。这些人被统称为“入北者”。在苏联的支持下，朝鲜的经济有了大幅度的增长，而在日朝鲜人身份地位低微，不堪民族歧视和欺压，面对朝鲜当局鼓吹的“衣食无忧的人间天堂”，致使大量在日朝鲜人愿意回到朝鲜去建设“新乐园”。

因此，为了支持海的另一边的共产主义事业，本片的主人公、自小在日本长大的松浩，在16岁的时候，由父亲送往朝鲜。由于日本与朝鲜无建交，骨肉分别，难再相见。朝鲜长期实行封锁政策，外界难以得知这些入北者的情况。寄托着父亲和家人“建设美好乐园”理想的松浩，经此一别，已经25年。几年前，松浩脑患肿瘤，经过不断申请，终被政府特批赴日治疗3个月。这一举措，也是父亲的好友、弘基叔叔努力奔走了五年的结果。

亲属们沉默地在中央会馆等待“归国者”。不久，使馆人员领来了两男一女，都是从朝鲜归来的病人。第一个男的胡子拉碴，神情阴郁，像劳改释放犯；第二个男的个子高高的，有些驼背，面孔透着懦弱和驯服，他是松浩；第三个女人长得不错，半边脸却被烧毁了。他们胸前都带着一枚小小的红章，那是他们身为朝鲜公民的标徽。跟随松浩而来的是一名梁同志，面无表情，他的任务是监督松浩甚至家人的一言一行。他常常挂在嘴上的是两个字：组织。

松浩归来，为家庭带来久别的天伦之乐。睡在曾经的小房间里，早晨帮妈妈擦拭咖啡杯碟，和阔别了数十年的朋友小聚，和妹妹逛逛街边商店，在全家人陪同下去设施高端的医院看病。被禁止离开东京都的松浩，能够享有这般的放松，已经是太大的奢侈。而这样的生活，安详外表下弥漫着不安的气氛，这不安来自“国家机器”代表者梁同志的监视，来自父亲不近人情的冷漠，来自对于疾病治疗前途未卜的恐惧。

松浩，事件的主角，最沉默寡言，哪怕面对昔日的情人，他也是只醉酒后独坐一隅，唱了几句少年时期的情歌而已。在那个不能随便乱说话的国家，习惯沉默未必不是最好的方式。不仅如此，他还肩负着“组织”上的任务：拉拢在学校给日本人教韩文的妹妹做“间谍，却换来一向脾气好的妹妹异常的愤怒。分别了25年后，他和亲人已经是身处两个水火不容的世界，再也无法融合。

与哥哥相比，妹妹是个开朗的女子，总是挂着开心的微笑，说着流利的日语，像每一个普通日本女孩子一样。其实都是表象。哥哥在流放地，妹妹又何尝不是。父亲禁止她与非朝鲜族以外的男人谈恋爱，所以一把年纪了还独自闺中；在学校教日本人韩语，却不能去韩国哪怕是旅游。在貌似自由的国度，有着不自由的心灵，而她从来都把心情仔细地藏好，为的是在日本波澜不惊地生存下去。

梁英姬也曾以自己的真实经历拍摄过一部纪录片《亲爱的平壤》。“亲爱的”三字体现了创作者的复杂情绪。梁英姬的父母是坚定的共产主义者，父亲作为驻日朝鲜官邸的官员，在上世纪70年代将3个儿子都送到了平壤。梁英姬说，包括美国在内的联合国对朝鲜进行制裁，而将这种仇恨延伸到住在那里的普通人身上，这是她所不能接受的——“朝鲜国内居住着和我们一样的人。在那里生活的也是普通人。他们也一样恋爱、结婚或离婚。那儿的孩子活泼可爱、女人关注时尚、大学生热衷上网。”

也许朝鲜是一个被妖魔化的国家，也许是作为一部电影的创作者或多或少要满足观众一丝猎奇的心理，也许是导演本身下意识无法规避的生活经历，在梁英姬曾经表示“媒体对朝鲜产生了强烈的偏见和先入为主”之后，观者并没有在电影里看到所谓朝鲜人民的真实生活。我们看到的只是这个从来没有真正快乐和团聚过的家庭，还将继续忧伤下去，皆因他们当年做出的那个理想主义的决定。

朝鲜人民生活幸福吗？这是一个没有标准的答案。我们从电视报纸上看到那些冒死偷渡的“脱北者”来到韩国、美国等新大陆后恍如重获新生，但是在不久的将来，一向习惯了靠政府按需分配的他们即将面对资本主义残酷的竞争和厮杀；我们看到朝鲜的百姓衣着与时尚无缘、使用的电子设备落后、社会风气保守、思想不自由，可是他们又享受着免费的学费和医疗，拥有干净的街道和低廉的物价。自从朝鲜开放旅游后，许多人纷涌而至，说白了，那份猎奇的心理，大概和清朝西洋鬼子专程跑到中国来看中国女人的小脚差不多吧。