By Eyvette Min

With never-before-seen footage of China's top secret “underground Railroad,” Seoul Train is the heart-wrenching documentary exposé into the life and death of North Koreans as they try to escape their homeland and China to find something many take for granted--freedom.

From the moment the first scene of Seoul Train came on, I was completely captivated. Before me flashed an image of a young child looking lost, sad and hungry. He was filthy from lice, infested head to grimy feet, only one of which was covered by a sorry excuse for a shoe. I watched in horror as he got down on his hands and knees and carefully, almost apologetically, picked up crumbs off the muddy ground and placed them into his mouth. Next was another tragic picture. People were wading through a flowing river and they reached out to something that floated by. I heard gasps around the theater as we realized it was a bloated, forgotten human corpse.

These were the beginning scenes of Seoul Train, a documentary created by first-time filmmakers Lisa Sleeth and Jim Butterworth (not to mention Hollywood heavyweight Aaron Lubarsky, who graciously set aside far more lucrative projects to edit and help direct this film) about the “underground railroad” in China. It shows glimpses into the “hermit kingdom” of North Korea, and reveals the dangerous plight of refugees (there are an estimated 250,000 living underground in China) as they attempt to escape from a homeland that promises no future, but only the hunger and persecution which has claimed approximately three million lives in the past 10 years. Seoul Train also illustrates what's going on behind the scenes of this tense, potentially explosive humanitarian crisis by interviewing experts on international policies, high-ranking Chinese government officials, and modern day heroes who risk everything to help these refugees by making escape possible.

The film highlights the questionable policies of a Chinese government that blatantly violates international laws by systematically arresting and repatriating hundreds of these refugees each month. The fate that awaits those repatriated includes atrocious human rights abuses such as concentration camps--not unlike those once haunting Nazi Germany--torture, forced abortions for pregnant women and executions. It also shows the inaction of UN High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR), who hasn't stepped in to save even one refugee. However, the film shows a faint glimmer of hope--the Underground Railroad. In this complex network of multinational activists, refugees can hope to be secretly directed across hundreds or even thousands of miles of Chinese territory to freedom. 

Sadly, the gripping tales of a few of the refugees we see in the film are far from idealistic. Some of them are mercilessly captured and sent back, one of them being an eight-month-pregnant Nam Chun-mi, and their fates are unknown. Sighs and sniffles were audibly heard from the crowd. The film was a powerfully persuasive call to action evoking a sense of extreme urgency. But what could I or any of us, helplessly sitting in our comfortable theater seats, possibly do?

That very question was answered in the panel discussion which followed the screening. The filmmakers urged the audience to visit the website (www.seoultrain.com) to find ways to place pressure on the UNHCR to fulfill their mandate to protect the rights of refugees, donate money to non-profit organizations sending food aid and other necessities to activists in the area, and to get involved in organizations such as LiNK (Liberation in North Korea www.linkglobal.org).

Pastor Chun Ki-won, who was one of the activists featured in the film, was also on the panel. This amazing man--known by some as the “Schindler of North Korea”--has brought more than 400 North Korean refugees to safety. To demonstrate the demented conditions in North Korea, he brought with him some school books that a 10-year-old North Korean girl brought out with her. The decrepit books had math problems such as “if you kill 200 U.S. soldiers and then kill 300 Japanese soldiers, how many have you killed in total?” and music books with the lyrics “let's kill Japanese and American dogs.” The only books in pristine condition were biographies of Kim Jong-il and Kim Il-sung, books virtually useless to a 10-year-old's education. 

For me, Seoul Train proved to be completely different from any other moviegoing experience. I had heard about the conditions in North Korea before and had passively thought to myself, “oh, that's unfortunate” and then went along with my busy life, choosing to forget the tragic stories. However, seeing this film didn't give me the option to forget. The images I saw stimulated my mind, seared into my heart, and moved my spirit. Now I too adamantly believe that something must be done about this offense to the human race, and I see in Seoul Train the enormous potential to spread awareness and break the apathy of all who watch it.

Note: Seoul Train has just won the "Best Documentary" award at the Fort Lauderdale International Film Festival.

http://www.seoultrain.com/

Published: Friday, November 19, 2004