Yu Hyun-mok, a master of Korean cinema known for his realist masterpiece Obaltan (1960, also titled A Stray Bullet), was sentenced by the court for his 1965 film An Empty Dream. He was found guilty of obscenity for filming a naked actor on set, even though the scene was not included in the final version of the film.
The obscenity charge stemmed not from the content of the film, but from the act of filming itself. This raises an important question about when a film transitions from a private creation to public property, subject to legal and ethical scrutiny. Unless the director breaks the law by pushing the boundaries of expression, engaging in criminal activities, or harming animals and the environment, a film in production typically remains within the director’s creative control. Other films like Punishment Park (1971), known for its controversial portrayal of inmates attempting to escape, and Trash Humpers (2009), with its scenes of antisocial behavior and vandalism, sparked public outcry but did not result in legal action. Yet, Yu was fined simply for filming nudity, suggesting that Korean laws at the time viewed this as criminal.
An Empty Dream was a Korean adaptation of the Japanese film Daydream (1964), directed by Tetsuji Takechi, a prominent example of Pink Films—low-budget softcore productions. The plot follows a man who, while under anesthesia at a dentist’s office, experiences a delirious dream about the woman in the adjacent chair. In his hallucination, she becomes a cabaret singer pursued by both the man and the dentist, who transforms into a sadistic predator. The film juxtaposes the unsettling sound of a dentist’s drill with industrial tools, linking pain with sexual pleasure in the man’s fantasy.
Pink Films like Daydream explored female sexuality and sadomasochism; themes largely ignored by mainstream cinema at the time. These films emerged during a period of rapid industrialization and urbanization in Japan, which challenged traditional views on family, gender roles, and sexuality. They soon came under scrutiny by Eirin, Japan’s self-regulatory body, and government authorities, as their sexual content far exceeded the limits of morality codes.
Filmmakers used metaphor, allegory, and creative camera work to bypass restrictions while marketing their films as rebellious, speaking to male audiences estranged from traditional roles in urban settings. Daydream was one of the few Pink Films to achieve broad commercial success.
In a 1976 interview, Yu Hyun-mok referred to An Empty Dream as a failure. He explained that the Korean studio had bought the rights to remake Daydream and selected him to tone down its eroticism, given his reputation as a serious director. In response to the studio’s request—though not overtly—Yu chose to experiment with German Expressionism and Dadaism, making the film more artistically ambitious. Upon its release, viewers were confused and frustrated, feeling the film did not meet their expectations.
Yu’s adaptation prioritized artistic experimentation over eroticism. It’s unlikely that the nudity filmed on set would be considered obscene by most standards, and Yu’s interview suggests that audiences were disappointed with the film’s lack of sensuality.
Interestingly, in his interview, Yu mentioned that he self-censored, transforming the original’s sexual transgressions into artistic playfulness by blending cinematic styles rather than pushing sexual boundaries. In doing so, he replaced one type of transgression with another—one that was more artistically respectful.
Research suggests that Yu’s obscenity charge may have been politically motivated. His public criticism of the government’s persecution of artists, especially those critical of state policies, likely provoked the authoritarian regime. The case seems to have been more about silencing dissent than addressing any genuine obscenity. Despite this, it is evident that Yu adhered to the sexual codes of the time, using artistic expression to navigate around the era’s unsaid rules about gender and sexuality.
An Empty Dream remains a unique film in both Yu Hyun-mok’s career and the broader context of 1960s Korean cinema. It stands out for its experimental style, incorporating European art film techniques, and its thematic exploration of sexual deviance. However, despite its reputation as a provocative work, it ultimately stayed within the moral boundaries of the male-dominated social order of the time, rather than breaking them.