Captured On Film: The Abduction of Choi Eun-hee and Shin-Sang-ok

Jake Benjamin Roiter

25-2 Yonsei PSCORE

https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/4/4d/Shin%2C_Kim%2C_and_Choi.jpg 

Preface: July 19th, 1978 – Hong Kong

The putrid stench of damp concrete paired sourly with cigarette smoke and human sweat, which billowed from the crowded streets of Causeway Bay. Rickshaws gave way to taxis—and only if pedestrians were so careful to avoid collisions, his search might have been smoother. Prolific director Shin Sang-ok departed from Seoul to embark on a vigilante manhunt for his ex-wife Choi Eun-hee, who had disappeared mysteriously earlier that year. 

He had become familiar with navigating the long, busy stretches of disorganized thoroughfare which interlaced the port city, yet every search was rendered unsuccessful. Today was different, however. Among the expatriate community in Hong Kong, rumors had spread that Choi Eun-hee was spotted within the city. He received a contact—to meet a woman at Causeway Bay who might have information regarding her whereabouts … He wondered whether she hated him… whether she was aware of his whereabouts, and however closer he got, the farther she would drift away. 

And the translucent silhouette of his estranged wife enshrined in the sky above—every wave which the Freighter forcefully broke through, he felt slightly closer to her…

Kim Jong-il: The Supreme Cinephile 

By the 1970s, Supreme Leader Kim Il-Sung, military hero and deity-like figure, had already inscribed his name into North Korean history. He also found a name which could cement his legacy. His eldest son, Kim Jong-il, was already being groomed to take dictatorial power upon his father’s death. 

In all of Kim Jong-il’s authoritarian stature, one would find his inclination and supreme knowledge of cinema as shocking. It was one of his dreams to make a North Korean film industry that would rival not only South Korea’s but the world’s. The abducted Shin Sang-ok would refer to Kim Jong-il as “any ordinary young man… He liked action movies, sex movie, horror movies” (BBC), paradoxical to his wielding of absolute power. By the 1960s, Kim Jong-il attached himself to the Propaganda and Agitation Department of the Workers’ Party. He likely consolidated his vision in his 1973 treatise, “On The Art of the Cinema,” where he argues that film is “the most powerful medium” of art, as it combines literature, theatre, and visual spectacle — an all-encompassing sensory experience (Kim). 

In his book, Kim Jong-il asserts that “art is indispensable to a fully human life,” framed as a humanistic freedom that transcends the primitive need for survival; art is a liberating agent, cultivating independence and creativity (Kim). However, he continues to stipulate that all art is inherently social, and thus ideological, becoming an ‘ideological weapon’ which must be placed under the control of the Party (Kim). In this sense, he undermines his own human argument. He exposes his fear of the individual power of people and the democratic power of art, whereby creation and exhibition can be a social tour de force against authoritarianism. And in the paradox between freedom and control, it begs the question whether North Korean Cinema, in all its sublime imagination, could ever genuinely produce the work that Kim Jong-il himself advocated.  

The Abduction of Choi Eun-hee and Shin Sang-ok

In January 1978, Choi Eun-hee experienced a sudden languish in her career and personal life (BBC). Shin Sang-ok—her husband and director—betrayed her by fathering two children with middling actress, Oh Su Mi—a discovery that led Choi to divorce and sever working ties with him. Besides, South Korea just entered an era of uncompromising dictatorship, and President Park Chung-hee clamped his grip onto the film industry by censoring films that might be too explicit or socially–and politically–challenging in content and message. These circumstances propelled Choi Eun-hee to Hong Kong, where an intermediary posing as a wealthy investor promised her the chance to create her own acting school and a chance to revive her dwindling career, where she could find work in a more democratic and freer film industry. During business discussions, she was invited to join him on a short boat ride. Despite feeling unease, she was forced onto a speedboat, where a larger vessel would carry her across the South China Sea, Pyongyang-bound (BBC). 

Later that year, in July of 1978, Shin Sang-ok travelled to Hong Kong to search and reconcile with his estranged wife, Choi Eun-hee. He was overcome with personal loyalty to her, his closest partner and the mother of his children. But more importantly, Shin Studios took a nosedive and stopped producing high-grossing films. To avoid being eclipsed, Shin now relied on Choi to revive his own career. 

For his search, Shin met with a contact who was among the expatriate film community in Hong Kong. The woman he had met with appeared knowledgeable about film and maintained a polite and concerned disposition, upright in an agreeable posture. He was successfully manipulated. Shin entered a vehicle, which transported him to an industrial dockside, where he was smuggled onto a nearby boat. Just as his wife, Shin was transported onto a North Korean Freighter, locked into a tight cabin and bound for a disorienting voyage to Pyongyang (BBC). 

These elaborately planned kidnappings were orchestrated under the command of Kim Jong-il. As a devout cinephile with leadership in North Korean propaganda, securing two of the most prolific talents in South Korean cinema could materialize his dreams for a film industry that could rival their enemies in the south. He directed overseas operatives within the United Front Department to lure Choi Eun-hee into Hong Kong, where she and her husband often traveled for international business (BBC). They anticipated that after Choi’s disappearance, Shin Sang-ok would try to recover her. Kim’s involvement in the abduction is pretty well-established due to extensive documentation of the kidnapping of various personnel from foreign countries (Yamamoto). 

The Grand Reunion: 1983

After 7 years of captivity, Kim Jong-il orchestrated the grand reunion of Choi Eun-hee and Shin Sang-ok in 1983 (Yoon). Upon arrival in Pyongyang, Choi was restricted to comfortable quarters, where Kim Jong-il would cajole her with luxury gifts and watch films with her (BBC). On the other hand, Shin continued to resist his abduction, even after arriving in Pyongyang. He was thus thrown into different prison camps until weakened enough to surrender to his conditions. 

Shin was summoned to a luxury villa in Pyongyang in 1983, where a gaunt Shin Sang-Ok embraces an exasperated Choi Eun-hee—the latter sure of his death at the hands of the regime. Kim Jong-il was present during the reunion, his eyes scanning the emotional display as if they were projected onto the silver screen. Offering the couple a glass of champagne, he detailed to them his own vision to revolutionize North Korean cinema—a vision conveyed as collaborative, which they had no choice but to materialize (Yoon). 

Kim Jong-il coerced them to remarry in an effort also to rekindle their passion for film. They would create a total of 17 films together in North Korea. Every film was supported by Kim’s department, with Shin having creative freedom in the actualization of the works, but not so much the content or methods. The cinematography brought life to the screen, which the themes otherwise failed to achieve. Choi Eun-hee reflects on the experience as feeling like “a bird in a gilded cage,” under strict surveillance and scrutiny—what Shin would call “lavish imprisonment.” 

An Emissary of No Return (돌아오지 않은 밀사, 1984)

Their first film, “An Emissary of No Return” (1984), was striking all in its irony. The film follows a South Korean envoy, who was sent to various countries after the Korean War, arguing against the communist regime. The film romanticised Choi, who played his dignified working-class wife, who guides him through his moral panic, ultimately refusing to support the U.S.-backed South Korea, and absconding from Seoul for Pyongyang, where he eventually dies as a hero (Schönherr). 

The film was less of a master class in filmmaking and more of a trial run. Kim wanted to probe the couple, to see whether they could make a quality film under the strict direction of the North Korean propaganda machine. The film was appraised favorably for its patriotism and Shin was awarded the best director at the Karlovy Vary Film Festival (Schönherr). Considering its strict direction, it’s unimaginable the hardship both Choi and Shin had to endure—especially under the prospect that the film was a failure—acclimating to the prospect of ‘no return.’ 

Salt (소금, 1985)

“Salt” (1985) was an adaptation of the famed novelist and poet Kang Kyeong-ae (강경애). Set in Japanese-occupied Jiandao, the protagonist joins a band of guerrillas against the regime, while ethnic Koreans face continuous persecution by the Chinese and Japanese. Choi plays the unnamed mother who at first disapproves of her son's participation, but eventually realizes he is participating in a virtuous revolution against oppression (Schönherr). The film’s ethos supports the communist regime while striking a vehemently nationalist tone within the audience. It plays into Kim’s idea of art serving political and ideological ends, placing Korea’s bordering powers as constant threats—preying on the country’s downfall—and thus legitimizing the regime’s isolation. 

Her performance was awarded ‘Best Actress’ at the 14th Moscow International Film Festival (Schönherr): likely a bittersweet victory which reassured her theatrical prowess—even under restrictive conditions. The international reception of the film was all-around favorable. In 2001, it was even included in the Busan International Film Festival’s retrospective of Shin Sang-ok’s filmography (Busan International Film Festival). 

Pulgasari (불가사리, 1985)

One of the most captivating films produced in North Korea, “Pulgasari” (1985) is a monster epic film inspired by the creature of Korean folklore. The project was a readaptation of the 1962 South Korean film of the same name, and a rare collaboration between North Korea, Japan and China. The plot of the film revolves around a blacksmith’s daughter who curiously forges an iron-eating goliath who wreaks havoc around the country, ferocious and seemingly indestructible. The blacksmith’s daughter sacrifices herself valorously to redeem herself and defend her country (Schönherr). “Pulgasari” can be drawn out into a metaphor of the regime crushing and, with unfeeling gluttony, consuming creativity. The film also betrays Kim’s idea of independence and originality in film, whereby art is only valuable when a work is revolutionary and one-of-a-kind. The Pulgasari remake is, if anything, a greedy attempt to recreate a South Korean film. 

Choi Eun-hee stars as the blacksmith’s daughter, delivering a commendable performance. Shin Sang-ok included well-aged cinematography and suspenseful battle sequences. He also secretly collaborated with Toho Studios for special effects (Romano). Japanese audiences praised Pulgasari, with box-office returns competing with the later adaptation of “Godzilla” (1998). 

A Cinematic Escape: Vienna 1986

After 7 years of gaining the trust of Kim Jong-il, both Choi Eun-hee and Shin Sang-ok were sent to Vienna to promote their films and secure co-production deals. In one such meeting, both Choi and Shin slipped away and made their escape. They rushed to the American Embassy, where they presented various tapes of Kim Jong-il admitting to their abduction (Yoon). Shin captured these audio recordings on a small tape recorder, a feat that is impressive regarding the heavy surveillance of the regime. Their request for asylum was accepted, and they were swiftly transported to the U.S., where they would eventually settle. 

After having been divorced and remarried, the blinding reality of freedom placed tension on the prospect of their continued marriage. One could imagine that the ceremony was an act of conformity and ultimately, survival. Despite this, they remained together until Shin died in 2006. Choi would then move back to South Korea until she died in 2018. In the midst of their disappearance, their children were raised by relatives in South Korea. Although there was some estrangement due to the scandal that unfolded in South Korea, they reconnected after escaping to the U.S. 

In the U.S., Shin would continue to direct, making three films—sequels to the 1992 children’s film “3 Ninjas.” They performed well commercially; however, they are more intrigued by Shin’s departure from period drama films. Shin regards the films as ‘work for hire,’ with no real artistic investment in them. It was Choi who reflected and described Shin as wistful that he was no longer celebrated as he was in Seoul.   

Legacy

For many years in a creative pressure cooker, Choi Eun-hee and Shin Sang-ok’s 17 films have emerged in artistic and academic interest outside North Korea. Above all, both are applauded for their creation of dignified art under captivity. 

For North Koreans, it is likely Choi Eun-hee and Shin Sang-ok mysteriously vanished; they ceased to exist, as if they had never existed to begin with. Generations who consumed the films likely can recall them from memory, but they remain in the very back of their minds, in disintegrating nostalgia, only to be corroborated by hearsay. Perplexed and fascinated, children on their hands and knees, tastefully consuming every audiovisual morsel of their parents’ tale.

Kim Jong-il did not accomplish his task to create a North Korean cinema that parallels, or even eclipses, that of the South Korean media goliath. However, the limited gains he did achieve were due to his ambition and love for cinema, qualities in leadership that are likely to remain notorious. Under Kim Jong-un's leadership, resources and budgets were too scarce to produce high-quality films. The film's legacy continues mundanely through propaganda screenings, which legitimized the communist regime and raised anxiety toward the external powers, which allegedly aimed to crush it. 

The Larger Picture 

The abduction of Choi Eun-hee and Shin Sang-ok by the North Korean government reveals the multi-dimensional network of restriction and control that permeates into different sectors of society. In the most literal interpretation, it represents the people’s lack of agency, whereby their direct control maintains the status quo and the legitimacy of the regime. Choi and Shin’s escape reflects a large number of defectors who successfully defect due to special travel privileges, which many North Korean citizens lack, preventing them from safer access to other countries to defect. Most of the time, defectors have to resort to undulating and dangerous international pathways littered with criminals aiming to exploit their effective statelessness and, more so, their hopelessness. 

In relation to Kim Jong-il’s larger vision for a booming, politicized North Korean film industry through his theories of art, literature and film, his failure lies in the very paradoxes now cast on the silver screen. As Kim postulates, art is a higher register of humanity that transcends the need for survival. However, when the people’s liberties are placed under control and fear-mongered by the propaganda machine, their everyday concern becomes the plight of survival. The industry thus becomes a lifeless contraption functioning solely on government and individual greed, its levers and fulcrums attended by the people’s subservience. 

References

“Busan International Film Festival.” Busan International Film Festival, 2025, www.biff.kr/eng/html/archive/arc_history_view.asp?kind=history&page=3&pyear=2001 &m_idx=185. Accessed 1 Oct. 2025.

“Choi Eun-Hee: South Korean Actress Who Was Kidnapped by North Dies.” BBC News, 17 Apr. 2018, www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-43792417.

Kim, Chong-il. On the Art of the Cinema. University Press of the Pacific, 2001.

돌아오지 않은 밀사. Directed by Sang-ok Shin, 1984.

Savage, Mark. “Kim Jong-Il: The Cinephile Despot.” BBC News, 19 Dec. 2011, www.bbc.com/news/entertainment-arts-16245174. 

Schönherr, Johannes. Johannes Schönherr. 2011, www.ritsumei.ac.jp/acd/re/ssrc/result/memoirs/kiyou22/22-01.pdf. 

Yamamoto, Yoshi. Taken! The Committee for Human Rights in North Korea, 2011.

Yoon Min-sik. “Operation Vienna: Filmmakers’ Perilous Escape from Clutches of North Korea - the Korea Herald.” The Korea Herald, 17 May 2023, www.koreaherald.com/article/3128049.  Accessed 1 Oct. 2025.