Vitaly Mansky's 2015 documentary, "Under the Sun," offers a starkly different perspective on North Korea than the carefully curated images often presented to the outside world. Rather than a straightforward exposé, the film functions as a meta-documentary, peeling back the layers of state-controlled filmmaking to reveal the pervasive nature of propaganda in the Democratic People's Republic of Korea (DPRK). By documenting the rigorous process of staging a seemingly ordinary day in the life of a young girl, Zin-mi, chosen to represent the ideal North Korean citizen, Mansky exposes the immense effort and theatricality required to maintain the regime's carefully constructed narrative. The thesis of "Under the Sun" is that North Korea's pervasive propaganda system is not merely a tool of political control but a deeply embedded cultural phenomenon, dictating even the most mundane aspects of daily life and personal expression.
The film’s power lies in its subtle yet persistent subversion of the official narrative. Mansky and his North Korean collaborators set out to film a documentary about Zin-mi preparing for the Day of the Shining Star, a major national holiday celebrating Kim Jong-il's birthday. What unfolds, however, is a behind-the-scenes look at how the film crew constantly reshoots scenes, dictates dialogue, and manipulates environments to fit the desired propaganda message. We see Zin-mi and her family rehearsing smiles, being instructed on how to react to staged events, and being guided through fabricated scenarios. A particularly telling moment involves the staged "fishing" trip, where Zin-mi is shown happily catching fish, only for the audience to later see the crew planting the fish into the water for her to catch. This deliberate act of falsification, repeated throughout the film, underscores the extent to which reality is manufactured for public consumption.
Beyond the staged events, "Under the Sun" also provides glimpses of genuine frustration and weariness from the North Koreans involved in the production. While the children are largely kept in a state of controlled innocence, the adults, particularly Zin-mi’s parents and the film crew members, exhibit moments of palpable exhaustion and resignation. Their forced smiles and rote responses suggest an underlying awareness of the artificiality they are forced to participate in. One can observe the subtle shifts in their demeanor when the cameras are not directly focused on them, hinting at a reality far removed from the jubilant pronouncements of national pride and prosperity. This contrast between the performance and the brief, unscripted moments is where the film’s critique truly resonates, suggesting that beneath the veneer of ideological fervor, a human weariness exists.
Furthermore, the film’s structure itself becomes a commentary on censorship and control. Mansky is constantly accompanied by North Korean minders who dictate what can be filmed and who can be interacted with. The camera often focuses on these minders, revealing their watchful eyes and the implicit threat they represent. The narrative unfolds not as a linear story but as a series of meticulously constructed scenes, punctuated by the interruptions and directives of the state officials. This technique highlights the inherent limitations placed on any attempt to capture an unfiltered truth within North Korea. The very act of filming becomes a negotiation with the regime, a constant battle to find slivers of authenticity within a system designed to eliminate it. "Under the Sun" doesn't offer dramatic revelations of state secrets; instead, it offers a profound insight into the psychological and social mechanisms of a totalitarian state that has mastered the art of deception.
In conclusion, Vitaly Mansky's "Under the Sun" is a masterful and unsettling documentary that uses the very tools of propaganda filmmaking to critique its subject. By deconstructing the staged reality of a North Korean life, the film effectively demonstrates how pervasive and all-encompassing the regime's ideological narrative truly is. It reveals that for North Koreans, even seemingly personal moments are subject to state supervision and manipulation, leaving the audience with a chilling understanding of a society where truth is a carefully guarded and manufactured commodity. The film is not just about North Korea; it is a stark reminder of the power of narrative control and the human cost of living within such a system.