The Making of 'I Am Sun Mu' – an Interview with Director Adam Sjoberg
Filmmaker and photographer Adam Sjoberg has been working for the last two and a half years on a new documentary about our friend and renowned resettled North Korean artist Sun Mu. The film, titled I Am Sun Mu, follows Sun Mu as he prepares a new exhibition. We have known Adam for a while—he directed Danny From North Korea—but he is also known for previous works such as Shake the Dust and many other internationally-recognized films.
Check out our interview below with Adam on his most recent documentary.
When did you begin working on I Am Sun Mu?
Justin Wheeler introduced me to Sun Mu in January of 2013. We had dinner and discussed the possibility of doing a documentary about his life and work. Because Sun Mu can’t show his face and has to go to great lengths to protect his identity, he was understandably careful about getting involved in a feature film about his life. However, because of the long-term relationship he’s built with LiNK, and my approach to filmmaking, he decided it was a good partnership. I’m super thankful that he said yes. A year after we initially met, he was invited to China to show his work in a solo exhibition. This was an unprecedented event for a North Korean artist—and a bold decision on the part of the curator. I decided this was a perfect opportunity to film him and use the exhibit as a narrative arc with which to tell the rest of his story.
What was your favorite part of the process?
The whole filming process has been a joy to work on. I loved some of the quieter moments of filming it when it would just be Sun Mu and me in his studio. He would be painting or working away on a piece, and I would just be a “fly on the wall” filming. That collaborative effort was really inspiring. I’ve also loved working with a team of creatives that are so talented. Mariana Blanco, our editor, has been crucial to getting the film completed. Ryan Wehner has been making some beautiful animations of Sun Mu’s work that really help bring Sun Mu’s back-story to life. And composer Joel P. West has been working on a unique and beautiful thematic score to round out the film. I love working as a team with people that inspire me.
What are some cool things you learned while you filmed?
There has been so many things that I’ve learned. I already had a basic knowledge of the history of the Korean peninsula, but I’ve learned even more about it—as well as the nuances of the Kim’s rule and influence on every portion of North Korean life. Hearing Sun Mu discuss his life in North Korea, as well as his process of “un-brainwashing” after he left was fascinating. But most importantly, developing a friendship with Sun Mu over the last two years has helped me see past the politics and stereotypes surrounding the issue. Part of the beauty of Sun Mu’s paintings is that they don’t sit in any particular political space. He misses his homeland and longs for a more idealized, free North Korea. His work reflects his torn heart: He is not North Korean or South Korean. He’s simply Korean, which is why so many of his paintings focus on the idea of reunification, which is often seen as an archaic solution to the future of the two Koreas. But I don’t think he’s painting about reunification because he’s sure it will happen, only that he hopes it will.
What was most challenging for you with creating the documentary?
I don’t want to give too much away, but things did not go as expected at Sun Mu’s exhibit. That created safety and security challenges. Beyond that, making a feature-length film is a tough job. There are so many parts of Sun Mu’s life that I wish I could tell. The more I filmed him, the more I wanted to include. But in the end, you have to decide what stories push the overall narrative forward and keep people interested. It was tough to lose some scenes, but there are always DVD extras!
Do you have a favorite scene?
Can I pick two? My favorite is probably a scene where Sun Mu describes the day he escaped. It’s mostly a compilation of his paintings brought to life with animation. Afterwards, Sun Mu sings a song while playing the guitar that he used to play back in North Korea. Another favorite scene is of Sun Mu painting with his daughters. He then describes a couple of paintings he made of them—one of which is of his oldest daughter holding a “letter that cannot be sent” to her grandmother. It’s powerful.
Why do you create documentaries? Why did you choose to do this one in particular?
I create documentaries because I have a passion for helping people tell their stories. I love the genre because of how it opens up people’s eyes to the world. Ever since getting involved with Liberty in North Korea back in 2010, I’ve been interested in this issue. The crisis in North Korea is often overlooked, thought of only in terms of its politics, and is considered by many to be a complicated “cause” in which to be involved. I’ve worked with commercial brands that haven’t wanted to align themselves with LiNK because their manufacturing is in China. But it’s one of the greatest ongoing tragedies in the world today—and I’m proud to be associated even a little bit with what LiNK is fearlessly doing.
Who is this documentary for?
Hopefully it’s for everyone. We tried to make a film that is not just about North Korea, but about a person—an artist. It has a little bit of everything in it: a few laughs, a story of family, a story of escape, and a story of an artist trying to make it. Sun Mu is a very poetic person, and so I think people will be drawn in by his narrative.
What are you most excited for people to see in the documentary?
The climax of the film is pretty exciting and emotional, but I’m most excited for people just to get to know Sun Mu.
Why should people watch this? Why is this important?
As I’ve mentioned above, this is an issue that is often only seen in the media regarding it’s politics, or else in comedies or shock-docs. I want people to see a more human side: to not walk away thinking of the Kims, but of the many people in North Korea who live under one of the most oppressive regime in the world. Not just of their plight, but of their potential.
Where/when can someone see the documentary?
There will be a website up soon with more information. It will take some time before we secure international and domestic distribution. Stay tuned to what LiNK is doing. We’ll try to keep everyone in the loop once it’s out for the world to see!
UPDATE: January 2017! We're excited to announce that I Am Sun Mu is now available on Netflix, iTunes, Amazon, YouTube, and other video on demand platforms! Watch it, rate it, and share!
Want some of Sun Mu's art for your home? Check out the Sun Mu canvas prints on the LiNK Shop!
The Bridge: The Role of North Korean Defectors in a Unified Korea in 2045
By: Eunsook Jang
Eunsook Jang holds a bachelor’s degree in Political Science from Korea University and a master’s degree in International Development from Brandeis University. A Fulbright Scholar and LiNK US Scholarship grantee, she is currently a research intern at the Hudson Institute, where her work focuses on post-conflict recovery, economic development, and human development. Her recent publications include “Slipping through the Cracks in South Korea: The Uncertain Futures for the Children of North Korean Defectors” with the Migration Policy Institute, and “Why Strengthening RFA Is a Strategic Imperative for US Policy on North Korea” in The Diplomat.
The door opens, and an elderly woman with white hair steps out. It is Emma's mother, Sun. Emma's voice fails her. She collapses into tears. Sun startles at the sound, turns toward Emma, and, in an instant, knows. It is her daughter.
"Euna!" her mother cries. The name no one had spoken aloud for thirty years. "Mom!" Emma answers, and they fall into each other’s arms.
Words fail them. They weep, touching each other's faces and hands as if to make sure the other is real. Emma feels with her palms the smaller body her mother now has, the sharp ridges of her shoulder blades, and cries harder.
"Look how you've grown," her mother manages through tears, cupping Emma's face in both hands. "You've become... a woman."
Emma pulls her closer. "Mom, I'm sorry. I left you alone." Her mother draws her in tighter, and murmurs into her hair: "You are here. You are alive. That is enough. I have missed you."
Sun had prayed to God every day for her daughter's new life, even without fully knowing religion itself.
For the first time since leaving, Emma cries in her mother's arms like a child.
And so for the next several hours, mother and daughter spend their time filling in thirty years of unshared life: how Emma met her husband Sam, how she spent each birthday without family, what it was like to settle into South Korean society.
After a while, Sun asks a kind of question Emma had not expected; a question filled with curiosity, hope, and all the images of South Korea she had imagined from afar.
“Is South Korea really like a K-drama?” Sun asks, her eyes sparkling.
"Yes, it often feels like it" Emma replies with quiet confidence. "I was able to study freely, for the life I wanted."
Sun shakes her head slowly, in something between disbelief and wonder. "To think, if you had stayed in North Korea, none of it would have been imaginable. Graduate school. A life like that. I suppose it really is a drama kind of place."
And yet not everything had felt like a drama. Settlement in South Korea had meant starting from zero: a political system unlike anything she knew, a language full of foreign words that made her feel dizzy just listening to it. She survived by studying fiercely and endured countless hours alone. It was the kind of loneliness that stayed at the back of the throat, the kind you feel when you fall ill and have no one to call, or when you achieve something and have no one to tell.
Emma takes her mother's hand. "Mom, everything will feel enormous and new at first. There will be moments when not knowing even small things makes you feel small too. But I will be there. So don't worry. We'll start this new life together."
As the words leave her mouth, she feels quietly grateful that she had gone through all of it first, knowing the path her mother is about to walk. And she finds herself already picturing it: the two of them sitting across from each other at her favorite pork belly restaurant Dwehyaji (돼야지), near Korea University, sharing a bottle of soju, talking until the night runs out. She smiles to herself at the thought.
The faces of the mentors and friends who had taught her culture and society drift through her mind, one by one, and she carries her gratitude for them again, as the sun goes down over Hyesan.
Emma falls asleep in the very spot where she slept as a child. It still feels like a dream. She closes her eyes, hoping she will not wake if it is.
Author’s note: I dedicate this piece to my father in South Korea, who has never once wavered in encouraging my studies, as if realizing through me the freedom to pursue the dreams that were taken from him. And to my mother, who remains in North Korea: This piece is my proof that your daughter has not turned away from your suffering, but is working, in her own small way, to fight against it. I hope to see you, even if only in my dreams tonight. I love and miss you beyond words.
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Eunsook is a participant of the LiNK English Language Program (LELP), which serves to not only help North Korean defectors build confidence and skills in English, but develop their capacity as advocates for this issue. To that end, we partnered with select LELP “columnists” to write and polish personal essays through multiple rounds of external feedback and revision. Our goal is to have more North Koreans share their stories directly and lead efforts to change the narrative.
We believe the North Korean people can achieve their liberty in our lifetime.
Opportunities like LELP invest in the people building that future now. Help more North Koreans find their voice, reach their goals, and lead change on this issue.
