It seemed somewhat telling that the first question from reporters attending the online-only press conference for the 2023 Busan International Film Festival was about the Zoom format itself. Prior to COVID, the press conference, traditionally held the first week of September to announce the main features and participants, was held in person in two locations, Seoul and Busan. The pandemic forced it to go online from one venue, but now that the pandemic is officially over, why still do it that way? asked one journalist. The interim festival director, Nam Dong-chul, answered that the Zoom format was “more reasonable” logistically, since more press people could attend, especially those, like myself, who lived outside of Korea. 

I think it’s not unfair, therefore, to approach the press conference from an aesthetic standpoint. Unlike the past two PCs, this one was framed as a middle distance shot, with the two presenters, Nam and the interim managing director, Kang Seung-ah, sitting at the dais some distance apart within the frame. Usually, the presenters are shot as tightly as possible, so the framing here had the effect of making the observer feel as if they were in the actual room where the PC was taking place and sitting some ways away. There was a sense of spatial separation, and it was difficult to gauge the expressions on the two officials’ faces. Since what they were doing was essentially reading the press kit out loud, the event itself seemed to have little meaning. However, there were opening remarks and the Q&A, which ended up revealing perhaps more than what the official pronouncements have done.

For one thing, Nam did not avoid the elephant in the room, which is the scandal that precipitated his and Kang’s elevation to “interim” leadership status. As everyone knows, former executive director, Huh Moon-young, resigned in May after he was accused of sexual harassment, and the festival itself then apologized over “mishandling” the scandal, since it didn’t initially reveal the allegation when it announced that Huh was leaving, thus implying that it wanted to cover up the reason. Sexual harassment in the Korean film industry is an open secret, so the festival said it would investigate the allegations (which Huh denies), but since then the whole administration has been in chaos because co-founder and chairman, Lee Yong-kwan, also quit to take responsibility. With this year’s edition of the festival at risk, the administration named Nam, the lead film programmer, to the director’s post, and Kang to the newly minted managing director job, which is mainly in charge of budgeting and administration. That Kang is a woman is significant since insiders have told the trades that what they are basically raging against is the culture of male cronyism that pervades the Korean film industry, as well as BIFF.

After a brief video rundown of the film highlights of the festival, Nam admitted that the festival was going through a “difficult time,” but that only meant he and his colleagues would have to “work harder than ever” to make the festival a success, “though we shouldn’t get our hopes up.” This unnecessary feint to fatalism may have been a hedge against any future problems that crop up, but he was sure to thank the sponsors and the mayor of Busan for their support. Later, during the Q&A, Kang talked about the budget and how it had been difficult to attract sponsors due to the scandal, so some cuts had to be made. The most obvious result is the lineup, which is much smaller than it was in 2019, before the pandemic: 209 films from 69 countries, though it should be noted that there are 87 World and International Premieres. Another casualty of the budget issue is there will be no BIFF Forum this year, where noted filmmakers hold forth on their work in lecture or interview-style settings. 

However, the real fallout from the “crisis,” as the two officials kept calling it, is there in the PR details. Though I doubt if the scandal will keep away the people—be they press, fans, or industry people—who love and religiously attend the festival every year, there seem to be a number of new features designed to attract as general an audience as possible. For one thing, Korea’s most famous actor, Song Kang-ho, has been designated the official “host” of this year’s festival, a title I don’t remember from past editions. What exactly the host does wasn’t made completely clear, but apparently since the positions of chairman and festival director remain vacant, Song will do those jobs as the face of BIFF. His main task seems to be “welcoming guests at the opening ceremony.”

Another obvious PR move is to give the Asian Filmmaker of the Year award to Chow Yun Fat, which makes it the second year in a row that the prize goes to a globally famous Hong Kong star, since Tony Leung won it in 2022. This development wasn’t lost on the press, since another reporter remarked on it. Nam said it was just a coincidence and that, given Chow’s contribution to Asian cinema over the years, “he would have won it at some point.” In any case, Chow’s honor gives the festival an excuse to create a special program around his films, though it only contains three, one of which is his latest, One More Chance.

Two other special programs have the ring of PR stunts but are nevertheless quite interesting. One is about Korean Diasporic Cinema focusing on Korean-American directors and actors, like Lee Isaac Chung, Steven Yuen, John Cho, Justin Chon, and Kogonada. Each will be represented by one film in the program, and there will be a screening of Celine Song’s Past Lives, which is being touted as a Best Picture Oscar contender this year. In addition, two professionals who died in the past year, actor Yun Jung-hee and composer Ryuichi Sakamoto, who was a past winner of the Asian Filmmaker of the Year award, will be honored with special screenings (Yun’s last film, Poetry, is my favorite Korean film of the 21st century), and both are definitely worthy of the attention. 

Nam made a particually big deal of the “works of virtuosos” and “widely acclaimed films,” which, to be sure, seem to be in abundance this year. Almost all these films have already premiered at the major film festivals in Europe, but to have them bowing in Asia at Busan is still something of a coup and Nam wanted to make sure people were aware of that. Of course, the real question, and one asked by a reporter, is how many of the directors and stars of these movies will attend. Nam said that they are still working on the guest list and “negotiating” with some celebrities, but on the partial list provided to the press the only non-Asian superstar is Luc Besson, who has had his own harassment issues. 

That leaves us with the real meaning of BIFF for myself and, I hope, most of the other people who will be visiting from overseas: the Asian films, in particular those from Korea. As far as the latter goes, I was disappointed not to find many major Korean studio films of the past year, like Killing Romance or Concrete Utopia, in the lineup, but that could change between now and the start of the festival on Oct. 4. As usual, there are two Hong Sangsoo movies (some things never change) in the Icons section (which focuses on world-renowned directors and is quite full this year: Loach, Wiseman, Breillat, Payne, Hamaguchi, Wenders, Gondry, Fincher, Moretti, etc.), and the world premieres in the Korean Cinema Today Vision section seem particularly strong. As far as the former goes, however, I was dismayed to see only one Iranian fiction feature, even though it is Ali Ahmadzadeh’s Critical Zone, which won Locarno’s Golden Leopard and has been condemned by the Iranian regime. Nam said something to the effect that recent political turmoil in Iran is why there are not as many films from that country. (There are 3 documentaries, but two are from the Makhmalbaf family, who are now based in the UK.) Also, there are very few movies from the Middle East, western Asia, and the Philippines. On the plus side, Indonesian cinema is getting its own special program, there are a whole raft of movies from the subcontinent, and, after a fallow year in 2022, Chinese and Hong Kong movies are back in full force, though not necessarily Taiwan. And continuing with a delightful tradition, the Opening Film is not a big banner movie but an indie that shows promise: Jang Kun-jae’s Because I Hate Korea, which is based on a bestselling novel about a young woman’s coming to terms with her lack of social status. The Closing Film is a predictable blockbuster: Ning Hao’s comedy The Movie Emperor, starring Andy Lau playing pretty much himself but as a jerk. Also as usual, Japanese contributions make up the second highest number after Korea, but almost all will have already been shown in Japan when the festival starts (though Shunji Iwai’s new movie is getting a world premiere), including veteran documentary filmmaker Tatsuya Mori’s September 1923, which is curiously included in the New Currents section for new filmmakers, probably because its Mori’s first narrative feature.

But perhaps the most telling indication that the scandals have not really affected what is most important about BIFF, namely, the desire for people to attend, was Kang’s response to a question in which she said that there was a 25 percent increase in registrations for the Asian Content and Film Market, with twice as many American companies planning to participate than there were last year. Of course, last year was the first one since the pandemic where the market was open to foreigners, but that’s still a healthy rebound. And it should be even healthier next year when, I assume, there will be a permanent festival director on hand. That is, as long as everyone behaves themselves between now and then.