[Editorial] Fact vs. fiction

Controversy over “The Assassin(s),” a film about the 1974 shooting death of Yuk Young-soo, wife of then-President Park Chung-hee, has spilled into the political arena. At issue is not artistic license itself, but whether cinematic invention can justify distorting established historical facts.

The film depicts the Aug. 15, 1974, shooting and advances a plot hypothesis that people close to Park or the Korean Central Intelligence Agency may have been involved. The filmmakers insist they did not explicitly identify who was behind the assassination. Yet the film invites audiences to entertain the insinuation that Park himself used or was involved in the incident to overcome a political crisis. For his children, the suggestion that their father may have been involved in their mother’s death to preserve his power is an especially grave insult.

The historical record does not substantiate the theory. The Special Investigation Headquarters concluded at the time that Moon Se-kwang, acting on orders from North Korea and Jochongnyeon, the pro-Pyongyang federation of Korean residents in Japan, attempted to assassinate Park but missed, with a stray bullet striking and killing the first lady. Questions have been raised over the years, but no evidence has emerged to substantiate the claim that Park orchestrated his wife’s death.

Rep. Joo Jin-woo of the opposition People Power Party criticized the film for portraying Park, rather than North Korea, as being behind Yuk’s assassination. He called it a historical distortion, not mere cinematic imagination, and said those involved should be punished. Party leader Jang Dong-hyeok called for a boycott, while Rep. Shin Dong-uk urged that screenings be halted. A former Seoul city council member also filed a criminal complaint against some production staff, accusing them of defaming Park.

Yet the ruling Democratic Party of Korea has remained conspicuously silent. Why? Perhaps because the film is doing for the party what it has long done itself: denigrating Park. If a film had used a similarly shocking imagination to disparage former Presidents Kim Dae-jung or Roh Moo-hyun, would the Democratic Party have been so tolerant? It is difficult to imagine it would have been.

The party pushed through a law imposing up to five years in prison for spreading false information about the May 18 Democratization Movement, which took place in its traditional stronghold of Jeonnam-Gwangju. Yet when a film raises an unverified theory about Park, the party has nothing to say. The contrast is glaring. It is a double standard.

The controversy also recalls the uproar over the Paichai High School baseball team’s “Let’s go to Starbucks” chant during a June 29 game. President Lee Jae Myung lashed out at Starbucks Korea for displaying remarkable “imagination” in portraying its “Tank Day” tumbler promotion for May 18, 2026, as an insult to the May 18 Democratization Movement of 1980. Many saw this as an excessive leap in logic. Nevertheless, some government ministries went so far as to launch a boycott. Chung Yong-jin, chairman of Shinsegae Group, Starbucks Korea’s parent company, apologized publicly, while police conducted a search and seizure at Starbucks Korea.

The Seoul-based Paichai team then visited the May 18 National Cemetery in Jeonnam-Gwangju to apologize for its chant. By the same standard, the film’s director, actors and other production staff should at least be prepared to visit Park Chung-hee’s grave, pay their respects and apologize.

There is a serious danger when unverified hypotheses become embedded in the public consciousness as hidden truths through the power of a polished commercial film. Cinematic imagination is no substitute for evidence. When fiction is presented as a plausible explanation of established historical facts, especially a national tragedy, criticism of historical distortion is inevitable.

Freedom of expression matters. But it is not a license to blur the line between fact and fiction.

At the very least, the filmmakers and distributor should apologize to the bereaved family of Park and Yuk and make unmistakably clear to audiences that the film does not depict established historical fact.