Chapter Five - The Dear Leader Is Watching

CHAPTER FIVE

The Dear Leader Is Watching

IN MOST DICTATORSHIPS, the ruler is a tyrant.
In North Korea under Kim Jong-il, the ruler was a director.
Not metaphorically. Literally.

He didn’t just control the country—he storyboarded it.
Scene by scene. Line by line.
And if reality didn’t match the script?

He edited it.

This wasn’t a government.
This was a film set.
And every citizen was an extra in the Kim Dynasty Cinematic Universe.

Kim Jong-il was born in 1941… or 1942. Depends on which version you read.

The regime says:

• He was born on sacred Mount Paektu during a thunderstorm.
• A double rainbow appeared.
• A new star lit up the sky.

In reality:

• He was born in Siberia, in a Soviet military camp.

From a young age, he was obsessed with film.
He reportedly watched up to 20 movies a day.
His private library held over 20,000 VHS tapes—Hollywood classics, Bond films, Godzilla, Disney, you name it.

He didn’t just watch them.

He studied them.
Took notes. Memorized techniques.
And then? He applied it.

To his country.

Under Kim Jong-il, North Korean propaganda became cinematic.

He oversaw every detail:

• Lighting
• Framing
• Costumes
• Dialogue

He even wrote a book called “On the Art of Cinema”, which became mandatory reading for filmmakers, artists, even politicians.

He believed cinema was the supreme tool of ideological warfare.
And he used it to blur the line between fiction and real life.

In his mind, North Korea wasn’t real.
It was a perfectly shot film.

And the Dear Leader?

He was always in frame.

Here’s where it gets unhinged.

In 1978, Kim kidnapped South Korea’s most famous director, Shin Sang-ok, and his ex-wife, actress Choi Eun-hee.

Why?
Because North Korean movies sucked.
And Kim wanted better ones.

They were drugged, dragged to Pyongyang, and held for years.
Eventually, he forced them to make propaganda blockbusters, including the cult monster flick Pulgasari—think Godzilla, but communist.

Shin and Choi played along, secretly recording conversations with Kim.
They eventually escaped during a trip to Vienna—a full-blown cinematic twist that made headlines worldwide.

But for years, they were trapped.
Directing actual films for a fake world under a delusional director.

While Kim lived out his cinematic dreams, the rest of the country was turned into a reality show of fear.

Microphones in hotel rooms.
Cameras in classrooms.
Agents embedded in every neighborhood.

But the true surveillance wasn’t technological.
It was social.

Neighbors spying on neighbors.
Children telling on parents.
Citizens policing each other out of fear.

In North Korea, the script becomes law.
And you never know who’s reading yours.

While millions starved in the 1990s famine, Kim Jong-il:

• Drank $700,000 a year in cognac
• Had a personal sushi chef flown in from Japan
• Owned fleets of Mercedes-Benz cars
• Imported South Korean pop music… secretly, of course

He was a walking contradiction:

• Publicly denouncing the West
• Privately consuming it

He lived in palaces.
Traveled in armored trains.
Feared flying.
Feared betrayal.
Feared reality.

Because deep down?
He knew the script could fall apart.

So he tightened the grip.
And passed the director’s chair to his son—
A Swiss-educated kid who grew up watching Michael Jordan highlight reels while learning how to command a death cult.