The Propaganda Game (15.)
Directed by Alvaro Longoria. 96 mins.
The world of cinema is filled with fork tongued, as-far-as-you-can-throw-em chancers, but none are less trustworthy, more in need of a close eye kept on them, than the documentary film maker, because every bit of misleading editing or artful evasion hurts that bit more when you are supposed to be informing the public. So here's to Mr. Alvaro Longoria who might just be a documentarian you can trust. His study into the reality of North Korean society, a world thoroughly demonised by the west, is a remarkably sane look at a situation that invites hysteria.
It's a simple set up – along with a small film crew he spends a few weeks in North Korea, trying to find out the reality of life in the hermit society. Their movements are heavily restricted and they aren't allowed to go anywhere without a guide. In practice they are restricted to the capital Pyongyang and a visit to the Demilitarized Zone, mostly in the company of Alejandro Cao de Benos, a Spaniard who has forged himself a position in the regime as a link with the outside world.
It's a difficult tightrope Longoria walks – trying to see things with an open mind, while not being hoodwinked. The North Korea he experiences is more ghost country than hermit – everywhere is deserted. All his guides defend their country in a calm credible manner, but the film is at its most revealing when he gets to interview the Pyongyang equivalent of the man on the empty street. One old boys immediately gets to his feet and practically stands to attention to deliver his answer about how happy his life. The reticence of people to speak to his camera is striking – is it shyness or terror?
At one point we see a young girl testifying tearfully about how a foreign power is cruelly oppressing her people and pledging herself to its defeat: she's a defector from North Korea speaking in front of a UN commission and it feels just as creepy and stage managed as any showpiece denoucement made by her homeland. The film is strong on revealing the hysteria with which the West attacks North Korea. You listen to the UN officials denouncing the state and there's something rabid about his certainty and fury. It is infuriating because North Korea doesn't need the hype or the demonisation. At the end of his film Alvaro admits that he hasn't uncovered the truth, but he does give you something solid to speculate around. His quiet and thoughtful film fully expresses how strange a place it is, but keeps its dignity while doing it.
The Propaganda Game (15.)
Directed by Alvaro Longoria. 96 mins.
The world of cinema is filled with fork tongued, as-far-as-you-can-throw-em chancers, but none are less trustworthy, more in need of a close eye kept on them, than the documentary film maker, because every bit of misleading editing or artful evasion hurts that bit more when you are supposed to be informing the public. So here's to Mr. Alvaro Longoria who might just be a documentarian you can trust. His study into the reality of North Korean society, a world thoroughly demonised by the west, is a remarkably sane look at a situation that invites hysteria.
It's a simple set up – along with a small film crew he spends a few weeks in North Korea, trying to find out the reality of life in the hermit society. Their movements are heavily restricted and they aren't allowed to go anywhere without a guide. In practice they are restricted to the capital Pyongyang and a visit to the Demilitarized Zone, mostly in the company of Alejandro Cao de Benos, a Spaniard who has forged himself a position in the regime as a link with the outside world.
It's a difficult tightrope Longoria walks – trying to see things with an open mind, while not being hoodwinked. The North Korea he experiences is more ghost country than hermit – everywhere is deserted. All his guides defend their country in a calm credible manner, but the film is at its most revealing when he gets to interview the Pyongyang equivalent of the man on the empty street. One old boys immediately gets to his feet and practically stands to attention to deliver his answer about how happy his life. The reticence of people to speak to his camera is striking – is it shyness or terror?
At one point we see a young girl testifying tearfully about how a foreign power is cruelly oppressing her people and pledging herself to its defeat: she's a defector from North Korea speaking in front of a UN commission and it feels just as creepy and stage managed as any showpiece denoucement made by her homeland. The film is strong on revealing the hysteria with which the West attacks North Korea. You listen to the UN officials denouncing the state and there's something rabid about his certainty and fury. It is infuriating because North Korea doesn't need the hype or the demonisation. At the end of his film Alvaro admits that he hasn't uncovered the truth, but he does give you something solid to speculate around. His quiet and thoughtful film fully expresses how strange a place it is, but keeps its dignity while doing it.
