Women's Film Fest Gearing Up in Seoul
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Citizen reporter Annie Koh previews the 7th Women's Film Festival in Seoul which opens April 8
Annie Koh (internews)
When I think "women's fiction" I tend to imagine the cover of a cheesy romance novel with an illustration of a long-tressed lady swooning in the arms of a barechested man. Women's magazines? Full of fashion tips, make-up ads, and articles on "How to Keep Your Man Satisfied!"
But what about women's film? I wasn't sure what to expect. This year, I decided to volunteer for this year's Women's Film Festival in Seoul, which opens at the Artreon in Sinchon this Friday, April 8.
The 7th edition of the annual Women's Film Festival in Seoul (WFFIS) reveals that women filmmakers have leaped over any preconceptions of what women's film should be and instead created a diversity of perspectives and styles. With 86 films from 27 countries, this year's WFFIS illuminates the breadth and imagination of women directors.
Notably, these films do not even necessarily feature female protagonists, let alone obviously "women's issues". In the simply drawn Korean animated short, "Citizen Rang", a boy with unusually long armpit hair and consequently unbearably stinky armpits grows up to save the day. Other directors do choose to delve into the particularities of womanhood, from schoolgirl crushes in the Swiss film "Little Girl Blue", to how patriarchy and Christianity complicate the mother-daughter relationship in this year's documentary awardee, "Umma".
When I told a friend of mine that I was volunteering for a women's film fest, he joked, "Does that mean all the films are by lesbian activists?"
Are there films by feminist activists? Of course. A new generation of directors tackle issues of family, divorce, and economic dependency. The "Young Feminist Forum" includes "Working Girl" which takes a stylized music-video-esque look at traditional women's occupations and the campy comic-book-inspired "Amazing Amazons".
Lesbians? A range of stories are included -- from a young married mother in China suddenly captive to unexpected desire in "Butterfly", to a Korean teenager's struggle in "Helmet" to figure out her own sexuality. But the sheer inventiveness and variety of films prevent any attempts at pigeonholing. The French stop-motion animation "Tim Tom" features two characters who have notepads for faces. I tell my friend he should come check out some of the films and that feminists don't bite.
As a Korean American whose only non-family exposure to Korean women growing up was limited to the whiny girls and tragic mothers who populate Korean dramas, I am particularly ecstatic to find works by filmmakers who have turned their gazes on contemporary Korean society.
Why, even as rates of smoking among women rise, do you almost never see women smoking on the streets? "Saving Smoking Girls" documents what happens to women who do smoke in public. "Red Manicure" is a fictional look at class and gender that tracks the incipient madness of a manicurist who works in a nail salon in posh Apgujeong. With a theme of women's confessions, the "Korean Cinema Retrospective" also caught my eye; how did directors depict women in the 60s?
Last year, after prostitution was outlawed, Korean sex workers took to the streets to protest and demand unemployment compensation. Two documentaries detailing the reactions of sex workers when Taipei's mayor banned licensed prostitution in 1997 are part of this year's "Feminist Film and Video Activism" program.
Featuring documentaries from India, Korea, Iran and Taiwan produced by activists or non-profits active in raising awareness about the sex industry, this section reveals the voices of women that governments prefer to hide in the back alleys of red light districts. Sex may be big business, but its illegality ensures that many sex workers remain poor and persecuted. However, the Indian women interviewed in "Tales of the Night Fairies" have begun an activist collective in Calcutta's largest red light district to claim their rights as laborers.
Curious about how women the world over live? This year's WFFIS presents seven films from Turkish women directors in the "Turkish Cinema Panorama". The home of two women's film festivals, Turkey is a center for filmmakers who shrug off Orientalist stereotypes of old Constantinople to reveal the tensions between tradition and modernity. "Mean Partner" takes it inspiration from an actual tragic gas explosion but expands reality to examine what happens to a patriarchal society when all the women disappear. The "Focus on Vera Chytilova" reveals a pioneering Czech New Wave director who delighted in showing provocative women who lived outside the bounds of socially acceptable behavior.
But why a women's film festival? Some young directors complain about the "ghetto" of women's film festivals. Why can't women directors and women actors just be included in regular film festivals and be screened in mainstream theaters?
The fact remains that even if women make up half the world, they are severely underrepresented in cinema. While Korean filmmakers have begun to reap international awards, the film industry remains male-dominated.
Hollywood too. In 2002, over 20 percent of the 250 top-grossing American movies did not employ even one woman as a director, executive producer, producer, writer, cinematographer, or editor. Even when it comes down to the portrayal of women on TV, female characters were more likely to appear in programs set primarily in domestic environments and less likely to be portrayed in leadership roles. Older women were rare on TV, with only 9 percent of roles. Asian American women were even less likely to appear in a TV program than an extra-terrestrial.
In 1997, after several successful years of presenting live theater, the Feminist Art Network decided that a film festival was the logical next step in expanding artistic opportunities for women. Lee Hyae Kyoung, the festival director, reminisced with volunteers about the early days of the festival when it was housed in an office so small that the staff could simply turn their desk chairs around to hold staff meetings. Seven years later WFFIS has grown to fill a packed warren of offices near Yangjae Station. I suspect the original organizers had no idea that their modest proposal would grow to attract 33,000 attendees.
Excited by the rare chance to gorge at an international buffet of works by women directors and starved for more creative and realistic portrayals of women, audience members come from all over Korea. Jeju, Daegu and Gwangju film fans stream in from all across the peninsula for the festival -- which translates into "sold out" signs and frustration for the unlucky ones. Last year over 90 percent of the seats were sold in advance of the screening.
For more information in English, check out the WFFIS ( http://www.wffis.or.kr/ ) Web site. The festival runs from April 8-15 at Artreon, near Yonsei University in Sinchon, central Seoul.
Annie Koh (internews)
When I think "women's fiction" I tend to imagine the cover of a cheesy romance novel with an illustration of a long-tressed lady swooning in the arms of a barechested man. Women's magazines? Full of fashion tips, make-up ads, and articles on "How to Keep Your Man Satisfied!"
But what about women's film? I wasn't sure what to expect. This year, I decided to volunteer for this year's Women's Film Festival in Seoul, which opens at the Artreon in Sinchon this Friday, April 8.
The 7th edition of the annual Women's Film Festival in Seoul (WFFIS) reveals that women filmmakers have leaped over any preconceptions of what women's film should be and instead created a diversity of perspectives and styles. With 86 films from 27 countries, this year's WFFIS illuminates the breadth and imagination of women directors.
Notably, these films do not even necessarily feature female protagonists, let alone obviously "women's issues". In the simply drawn Korean animated short, "Citizen Rang", a boy with unusually long armpit hair and consequently unbearably stinky armpits grows up to save the day. Other directors do choose to delve into the particularities of womanhood, from schoolgirl crushes in the Swiss film "Little Girl Blue", to how patriarchy and Christianity complicate the mother-daughter relationship in this year's documentary awardee, "Umma".
When I told a friend of mine that I was volunteering for a women's film fest, he joked, "Does that mean all the films are by lesbian activists?"
Are there films by feminist activists? Of course. A new generation of directors tackle issues of family, divorce, and economic dependency. The "Young Feminist Forum" includes "Working Girl" which takes a stylized music-video-esque look at traditional women's occupations and the campy comic-book-inspired "Amazing Amazons".
Lesbians? A range of stories are included -- from a young married mother in China suddenly captive to unexpected desire in "Butterfly", to a Korean teenager's struggle in "Helmet" to figure out her own sexuality. But the sheer inventiveness and variety of films prevent any attempts at pigeonholing. The French stop-motion animation "Tim Tom" features two characters who have notepads for faces. I tell my friend he should come check out some of the films and that feminists don't bite.
As a Korean American whose only non-family exposure to Korean women growing up was limited to the whiny girls and tragic mothers who populate Korean dramas, I am particularly ecstatic to find works by filmmakers who have turned their gazes on contemporary Korean society.
Why, even as rates of smoking among women rise, do you almost never see women smoking on the streets? "Saving Smoking Girls" documents what happens to women who do smoke in public. "Red Manicure" is a fictional look at class and gender that tracks the incipient madness of a manicurist who works in a nail salon in posh Apgujeong. With a theme of women's confessions, the "Korean Cinema Retrospective" also caught my eye; how did directors depict women in the 60s?
Last year, after prostitution was outlawed, Korean sex workers took to the streets to protest and demand unemployment compensation. Two documentaries detailing the reactions of sex workers when Taipei's mayor banned licensed prostitution in 1997 are part of this year's "Feminist Film and Video Activism" program.
Featuring documentaries from India, Korea, Iran and Taiwan produced by activists or non-profits active in raising awareness about the sex industry, this section reveals the voices of women that governments prefer to hide in the back alleys of red light districts. Sex may be big business, but its illegality ensures that many sex workers remain poor and persecuted. However, the Indian women interviewed in "Tales of the Night Fairies" have begun an activist collective in Calcutta's largest red light district to claim their rights as laborers.
Curious about how women the world over live? This year's WFFIS presents seven films from Turkish women directors in the "Turkish Cinema Panorama". The home of two women's film festivals, Turkey is a center for filmmakers who shrug off Orientalist stereotypes of old Constantinople to reveal the tensions between tradition and modernity. "Mean Partner" takes it inspiration from an actual tragic gas explosion but expands reality to examine what happens to a patriarchal society when all the women disappear. The "Focus on Vera Chytilova" reveals a pioneering Czech New Wave director who delighted in showing provocative women who lived outside the bounds of socially acceptable behavior.
But why a women's film festival? Some young directors complain about the "ghetto" of women's film festivals. Why can't women directors and women actors just be included in regular film festivals and be screened in mainstream theaters?
The fact remains that even if women make up half the world, they are severely underrepresented in cinema. While Korean filmmakers have begun to reap international awards, the film industry remains male-dominated.
Hollywood too. In 2002, over 20 percent of the 250 top-grossing American movies did not employ even one woman as a director, executive producer, producer, writer, cinematographer, or editor. Even when it comes down to the portrayal of women on TV, female characters were more likely to appear in programs set primarily in domestic environments and less likely to be portrayed in leadership roles. Older women were rare on TV, with only 9 percent of roles. Asian American women were even less likely to appear in a TV program than an extra-terrestrial.
In 1997, after several successful years of presenting live theater, the Feminist Art Network decided that a film festival was the logical next step in expanding artistic opportunities for women. Lee Hyae Kyoung, the festival director, reminisced with volunteers about the early days of the festival when it was housed in an office so small that the staff could simply turn their desk chairs around to hold staff meetings. Seven years later WFFIS has grown to fill a packed warren of offices near Yangjae Station. I suspect the original organizers had no idea that their modest proposal would grow to attract 33,000 attendees.
Excited by the rare chance to gorge at an international buffet of works by women directors and starved for more creative and realistic portrayals of women, audience members come from all over Korea. Jeju, Daegu and Gwangju film fans stream in from all across the peninsula for the festival -- which translates into "sold out" signs and frustration for the unlucky ones. Last year over 90 percent of the seats were sold in advance of the screening.
For more information in English, check out the WFFIS ( http://www.wffis.or.kr/ ) Web site. The festival runs from April 8-15 at Artreon, near Yonsei University in Sinchon, central Seoul.
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