The Mole: Undercover in North Korea

Terrified of the horrors of totalitarianism, "the mole went down the rabbit hole." Of all the rabbit holes out there, one could do far worse than exploring the one about North Korea, for any country so secretive almost begs to be examined. 

Yet with a complete ban on a free press and no freedom of travel (and the fact that Americans have been prohibited by the U.S. State Department from traveling there since 2017 when Otto Warmbier was sentenced to life imprisonment for stealing a poster from his Pyongyang hotel and eventually returned to the U.S. in a vegetative state), how could one not crave information about such a state?

My own fascination with North Korea was sparked when I moved to Seoul in 2009. There, I watched my first documentary of the country, Crossing the Line, about an American defector living in Pyongyang. Despite eventually leaving Korea, I never stopped thinking about the northern half, which I believe to be illegally occupied by a despot and the only fat man in a country of starving people. My own rabbit hole was during the pandemic (the same year The Mole: Undercover in North Korea was released), watching loads of fascinating footage by Russian YouTuber Anton Lyadov/"Anton is here" as he pretended to be a lawyer living in Pyongyang. I therefore don't blame anyone for becoming fascinated with North Korea and even wanting to go undercover.

For the mole in question (a retired chef named Ulrich Løvenskjold Larsen from Denmark) in this documentary, directed by Mads Brügger, we're told a lot of his own motivation had to do with his formative years, in which he befriended young East Germans after Germany reunified and the Cold War ended. He's at the heart of this story. The title ("Undercover in North Korea") is a bit misleading—hardly any of the mole's (or viewer's) time is spent in North Korea. It doesn't provide you with what life can be like for an average North Korean, as documentaries like State of Mind, Out of Breath, and My Brothers and Sisters in the North or books like Without You, There Is No Us or Nothing to Envy do. Instead, it focuses on the mole. He's retired because of some kind of illness that is never explained, but Brügger explains that after Ulrich viewed Brügger's 2009 documentary The Red Chapel about two comedians who travel in North Korea under the pretense of a cultural exchange, he reached out to the filmmaker to inform him that he had been infiltrating the infamous Korea Friendship Association and would like to know if he would be interested in turning the project into a film. Brügger was not thoroughly interested, but didn't cut ties and instead let things fall as they may. Given that Brügger is banned from re-entering North Korea, Ulrich and his espionage might be an avenue to continue to explore the nefariousness of Kim Jong-un's government, so they kept in touch.

The main villain here is not Kim but Alejandro Cao de Benós Les y Pérez, the Spanish president of KFA and kind of a chubby and uninspiring Bond villain. At one point, he is described as a small dictator in his own universe, leading a band of peculiar eccentrics who have found some sort of community in Western groups that believe they see through the "propaganda" that is the narrative around this tyrannical hermit kingdom. (He's also a bit of a racist, using language I would rather not repeat, but he also is an equal-opportunity offender, opining that Brits are very dirty.) Alejandro may be Spanish, but he is a wannabe-North Korean, constantly referring to Kim Jong-un as "the Grand Marshal" and the pronoun "we" when referring to DPRK. For example, when luring the mole and a potential buyer, he says, "We can do things that no other country can do." What are these things referring to? Quite illicit things, to be frank, namely in attempts to skirt sanctions that have made it hard for the regime to gain funds. 

Throughout years and years of going undercover as a Western simp for North Korea, Ulrich brings a possible investor named Mr. James to Alejandro in the hopes of North Korea selling weapons despite the sanctions. Mr. James is obviously not a real investor but instead a former French foreign legionnaire and convicted drug dealer. His name is Jim Mehdi Latrache-Qvortrup; he's a very charismatic fellow with a maniacal laugh who looks like he could be the Danish Billy Zane and also straight out of a Bond film. From here, their adventures take them to Uganda, where they come up with a plan to "buy" an island so the North Koreans can secretly build the weapons under ground. What about the people living there? Mr. James and the North Koreans need to "remove people without causing friction," so they get the Ugandans to agree to trick the locals into thinking that Mr. James is there to build a hospital, and that's why they must leave their land. "Now," the Ugandan says after they've come up with their plan, "let us pray." 

I mentioned that Alejandro is uninspiring; he is also clumsy. When discussing Brügger privately with Ulrich, he vents and vents and wags his finger at the North Korean officials who fell for Brügger's stunts in The Red Chapel, insisting that had they simply informed him, he would have been able to discern the act and stop them from losing face on the world stage (again). The irony is almost painful, for Alejandro repeatedly misses several hints that practically slap him in the face that something is amiss. One such scene is the most suspenseful in the entire film. 

Has this film changed Alejandro's perception among the regime in North Korea? It's difficult to say. He doesn't seem to have appeared in as many documentaries about North Korea as he used to. We do know that two years later, a U.S. federal arrest warrant was issued against him, but he is still at large. "I thought it would lead to the arrest of Alejandro Cao de Benós," Brügger told Variety five years ago. "All of this made me contemplate that maybe he is a double agent himself. Never say never." What about the consequences for North Korea as a whole? Having been essentially the last country to drag itself out of the COVID-19 pandemic and recently becoming a firm ally in Russia's fight against Ukraine, the new funds have allowed its economy to grow nearly four percent, the largest in almost twenty years. Kim Jong-un proudly walked beside Vladimir Putin and their host, Xi Jinping, in Beijing last year to celebrate the eightieth anniversary of the end of World War II. The Kim dynasty is unlikely to go away anytime soon.  

Some scenes in The Mole come across as goofy and should have been discarded, like when Brügger has Ulrich get some sort of training from an ex-CIA agent. Like much of anything about North Korea, these scenes and the better ones feel almost like science fiction. North Korea indeed is something that if you explained it to an alien who had never heard of such a place, they'd probably think you had made it up. That's one of the reasons why a film like The Mole: Undercover in North Korea is so important. For the tankies who defend the regime and lie about it (the Alejandros of the world), they are caught red-handed. I hope Brügger finds a way to make more documentaries like this. It's a fascinating look at amateur espionage. 

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The Interview

This is what all the fuss was about? A film showcasing James Franco trying way, way too hard? A film light on satire and heavy on bathroom jokes? Yes, indeed, this is, we have all found out, at the center of a geopolitical scandal like none before it. What was meant to be the third part of the Rogen/Franco trilogy (the first being the overrated "The Pineapple Express" and the second being the underrated "This Is the End") has become one of the most controversial motion pictures of our time, and all for nothing.

Here, Franco is Dave Skylark, a celebrity news journalist who shares a concern with his producer, Aaron Ropoport (Seth Rogen), that they and their show are not taken seriously by their fellow journalists and the public. Anxious to show the world their true talent, they discover that North Korean leader Kim Jong-un (his name has not been altered for the movie; perhaps his personality hasn't, either) is a huge fan of the show, and so they have an epiphany: interview Kim himself. The CIA, however, isn't opposed to the idea of the two of them going to the most isolated nation in the world, but they would certainly appreciate it if the two of them could "take him out." Dave and Aaron are understandably a bit stunned. "You mean for drinks?" Aaron asks.

In "The Interview," Franco gives the least funny performance of his entire career, a performance so devoid of humor it makes his job as Oscar host look like a gem. He creates a character that is perhaps the most annoying in cinematic history, a rich celebration of desperate gibberish and cruel obnoxiousness. Just when it can't become any more over the top, he goes full-Smeagol, twitching and squirming about -- and we're barely ten minutes into the movie. Franco is an actor who is known for his immoderate hyperactivity in movies, but may this movie be a warning to all actors to avoid such an approach.

The movie continues, but the laughs do not. There are practically a dozen cameos, and none of them funny. Eminem comes out as gay ("the greatest moment in gay history"), Rob Lowe has no hair, Joseph Gordon-Levitt plays with dogs, or something -- the stuff of comedic genius. Hollywood (and late-night comedians) need to learn that celebrity cameos aren't automatically funny, and they certainly aren't here. Rogen himself, though, usually offering the only chuckles sprinkled throughout the movie, doesn't really provide anything unique compared to his previous material. True, Rogen and Franco do have a couple of funny moments. As the North Korean guards bang on their door, the two, with material to assassinate Kim, must surely hide it, so they expectedly perform a false conversation: "Uh, I'm gonna take a shower." To which the reply is, "Okay...I'm gonna take one with you." Skylark and Kim develop a bit of a friendship; the latter shows off his tank that was a gift to his grandfather from Stalin. "In my country," Skylark assures him, "it's pronounced 'Stallone.'" The two relate to one another, and there are obvious allegories to the Kim-Dennis Rodman "friendship."

At least some props must be given: There are a few genuinely good moments of satire, not only poking fun at America's enemies, but America itself. The actor who plays Kim (Randall Park) is pretty good, and I couldn't help but think that the movie does, in fact, get better as it goes. I, for one, will never not be a joyful witness to a mocking of such a disgusting pig like Kim. (My sincere apologies to pigs everywhere for the comparison, for it is truly unjust.) 

But my ultimate conclusion is that this is certainly a missed opportunity. I know this is pretentious of me, but I think most folks would not understand that the portrayals of Kim, North Korea, and how North Koreans view their leader are not quite exaggerations in the movie. The film accurately portrays the fake crying, the charades of propaganda throughout every aspect of the country, and the deification of the Kim supreme leaders. Kang Chol-hwan, a defector from North Korea who survived ten years in a North Korean concentration camp, wrote in his memories that to his childish eyes, "Kim Il-Sung and Kim Jong-il were perfect beings, untarnished by any base human function. I was convinced, as we all were, that neither of them urinated or defecated. Who could imagine such things of gods?" "The Interview" puts it in a bit more sophomoric way by stating that Kim "has no need for a butthole."  Perhaps a movie like "The Interview" will help people everywhere realize not only the numerous absurdities of North Korea, but also the atrocities, the ultimate and complete oppression that is totally unprecedented, unlike anything ever seen in recent humor history. (Imagine if Hitler and Stalin dominated every aspect of their respective citizens' lives and if their families ruled for three generations.)

One could wonder if it's a good idea to laugh about this sort of thing when such things are actually occurring. Beyond that, while there now appears to be some doubt about who actually hacked Sony, some have argued that putting on your Uncle Sam hat and chanting U-S-A! as you watch Kim being mocked is what Kim actually wants you to do. But memories of this scandal behind the release of "The Interview" will far outlive the movie itself. And beyond that, as mentioned, this is a dismal attempt at satirizing a terrible despot. The Greatest Generation had "The Great Dictator." We have "The Interview."

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Crossing the Line

At the beginning of Daniel Gordon's documentary, "Crossing the Line," James Dresnok is "doing very good," but he's a little angry. Why he is angry is explained later, but the point is that Mr. Dresnok is a blue-eyed good ol' Southern boy, who happens to be living in North Korea.

Dresnok explains that he has never regretted coming to North Korea. His particular statements are what make his story and this film so fascinating. North Korea is universally acknowledged to be the last testament of the Cold War, completely isolated from the world and sheltered to the point of chronic alienation. Propaganda is propaganda (and Gordon and his crew do an extremely effective job at largely avoiding a propagandist vernacular and tone), and the Western world has come to fear North Korea, its nuclear arsenal, and its leader, believed by the West to be erratic and dangerous, possibly unstable. How could an American be living in North Korea? Has he been brainwashed? Is he being held against his will? No regrets? The latter appears so, and Dresnok will explain why. Mr. Dresnok is going to tell a story he has never told anyone.

James Joseph Dresnok has been living in North Korea twice as long as he lived in America. He has a sweet Southern twang, and is a large fellow, simultaneously frightening and harmless. He is described by the narrator Christian Slater (who is constantly matter-of-fact and neutral in his narration) as being of a broken home, abandoned parents, and developing a rebellious attitude, always wanting to run away. He is heartbroken in describing his first wife who fell in love with another man while he was stationed in Germany. He again left for the army and was stationed at the DMZ, a place Bill Clinton described as the scariest place on the planet. Having been to the DMZ myself, his statement is mostly accurate, though I would not use the word scary so much as surreal. After seriously disrespecting the orders of his superiors, he said "to hell with this," and in daylight ran across the mine field and was captured by North Korean soldiers. The recounts of his defection are described by Dresnock, U.S., and even North Korean soldiers (one of whom wanted to kill him because both of his parents had been killed by the Americans).

North Korea is scary enough now, so imagine what it would have been like for an American four decades ago. While South Korea is still one of the most homogeneous nations in the world, it is climbing towards one million foreigners in its land; the same cannot be said about their neighbors to the North, and North Koreans probably would have had even greater hatred and suspicion of Americans than today.

Dresnok soon met a fellow defector, and eventually there were a total of four. One of them was named Charles Jenkins. They all became scared, confused, and ready to retreat to the Soviet Union, whose embassy turned them back over to the North Koreans. Dresnok became determined to understand Korean culture and language and become one of them. The four were initially viewed skeptically by the North Koreans, but they, especially Dresnok, eventually became celebrities when the government instructed them to appear as American villains in a 1978 propaganda film. Incidentally, while South Korea's cinema has reached a global audience in an incredibly short period of time, North Korea claims to have given to a global audience the world's most "wonderful" movies. I challenge you to find someone who has seen a single North Korean film.

At the time of the filming, Dresnok was the last defector in North Korea. Two had died, and Jenkins and his wife, a Japanese woman who had been captured by North Korea, escaped to Japan. He was arrested and served thirty days in prison. He released a book describing his misery in Pyongyang, and claimed that Dresnok would beat him if he did not fully comply with the government's wishes. Dresnok claims he is an absolute liar, and Dresnok's emotions shift from reflective to empathetic to sad to proud (as almost any man his age would); it is here, in describing Jenkins—his actions and his words—where Dresnok gets really, really angry. As for Jenkins, he is still alive, living in Japan, and several years ago he returned briefly to the United States to visit his ninety-one-year-old mother before returning to Japan. Dresnok also has a family. His second wife was an Eastern European woman, who birthed him two handsome boys, and although it is not mentioned in the documentary, they are constantly striking awe and flirtation in Korean women, though one of them at least does not want to marry a Korean woman. Dresnok's third and current wife is the biracial daughter of a black parent (again, this is not mentioned in the documentary). Their very young son, Dresnok's third, has curly hair and darker skin. All three of his children are attractive, and Dresnok appears totally blissful in Pyongyang, a country where people are starving to death (at least the government recently executed the scapegoat behind their failed currency redenomination). Dresnok at least is perfectly aware that North Koreans are starving, and he is deeply moved that he still gets rice rations from the government.

Documentarians are often praised for their bravery. These filmmakers are incredibly brave, having filmed in North Korea for three different documentaries (one on the country's soccer team and another on athletes preparing for the Arirang Festival). They are also risking the possibility of facing accusations that they are giving undeserved attention to a defector, communist and anti-American traitor. Sympathy is sympathy and empathy is empathy. Do both exist here? It's in the eye of the beholder, but I found both, though I suppose I'm a little weary of being called a communist.

Movies are usually seen through prisms and experiences. Here's mine: I have lived in South Korea for about seven months. I have become much more interested in North Korea than I was in the United States, but not because South Koreans are interested in North Korea (most of them are clearly not). I have been to the DMZ, as mentioned, and tours to a city called Kaesong, or Gaesong, have been suspended by the South after North Korean soldiers shot and killed a South Korean tourist. The North and South are currently negotiating terms to open up the tours again. Relations between the two are currently at their usual worst, but if the tours were to reopen, I would consider traveling to Kaesong in a second. When I watched this film, it was about a week after a South Korean vessel suffered an explosion and thereby sank it, causing the deaths of nearly fifty South Korean navy men. As of now, it is not clear if North Korea was responsible. If conflicts do heat up again, Mr. Dresnok and I are geographically speaking not too far apart, and we will be first-row witnesses to the tempest.

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