Korean death metal band Seed appears in the documentary "K-Pop Killers" by Ian Henderson and Michael O'Dwyer. / Courtesy of Michael O'Dwyer |
By Jon Dunbar
K-pop consistently upstages all other music made in Korea, including in this article, even in the title of the heavy metal music documentary "K-Pop Killers" by U.S. expats Ian Henderson and Michael O'Dwyer.
The movie lets Korea's extreme metal underground take center stage. Korean metal history stretches back to the 1980s and covers a wide variety of subgenres, performed by highly skilled Korean men and women across many generations. But after the rise of idol groups, ironically championed by former Sinawe bassist Seo Taiji, metal took a nosedive into the underground.
Henderson and O'Dwyer, two bald-headed metalheads, dedicated the better part of the last two years to telling this story. In separate interviews, they both described the 90-minute film as their "love letter" to the scene and the country they have called home for years.
"It's kind of my love letter or swan song to the scene that's been like my family for the past decade," said Henderson, who's been in Korea almost a decade and spent most of that time connected to the local metal scene.
"It's really my love letter to Korea," added O'Dwyer, a photographer, "especially the underground music scene."
Ian Henderson (left) and Michael O'Dwyer / Courtesy of Michael O'Dwyer |
"The name itself is supposed to represent diametrically opposed sentiments," Henderson explained. "The whole movie pits images and ideas against each other."
"K-Pop, or at least the shadow of it, is ever-present in the background," O'Dwyer said.
"In Korean modern life K-pop music and idol group members are everywhere. A lot of the subjects in the documentary consciously made a decision to pursue a music and style that is on the polar opposite of K-pop style and what they feel it represents. Korean society is changing quickly but there's still a huge collective/societal pressure to conform, so even just liking extreme metal made by Korean musicians that play in tiny clubs in Mullae puts one in the societal fringes. So participating in the metal scene with all that pressure the fans and musicians are acting on a deep urge to express themselves or rebel."
A metal band performs in GBN Live House in Mullae-dong, the metalworking district that has become the heart of Korean heavy metal music. / Courtesy of Michael O'Dwyer |
Both speak highly of the technical proficiency and dedication of Korean metal bands.
"Very few bands have members that phone it in or are out of sync," O'Dwyer said. "I've been back in Texas for a couple of months now," he said, "and I'm appalled now when I see a touring band drown out their shows in distortion or play sloppily."
They also speak highly of the diversity present in Korean metal bands. O'Dwyer says the top three subgenres are death metal, metalcore and grindcore, saying the latter is getting increasing international recognition, with some magazines and bloggers calling Korea the "new home of grindcore." But there is also classic heavy metal, thrash, black metal, doom metal and many others.
"It's all here _ there's something for everyone who is interested in metal," O'Dwyer said. "You really can't pigeonhole this scene; for me that's why it's so fascinating. Without a navigator it can be difficult to know where to start, but at Korean shows there's always a mix of genres."
But Henderson emphasizes the film isn't just for fellow metalheads; he hopes everyone can learn something bigger about Korea through its extreme metal scene.
"Although the main narrative thread is metal, I made sure to make it big enough in scope to hold the interest of people who really couldn't give a rat's ass about metal," Henderson said. "It's more about Korea, through the lens of metal."
Death metal band Fecundation appears in heavy metal documentary "K-Pop Killers." / Courtesy of Michael O'Dwyer |
They spent just over a year filming live footage, and band and street interviews. They interviewed dozens, including venue owners like Lee Yuying of GBN Live House, Kirk Kwon of Thunderhorse Tavern and Jay Lee of 3Thumbs. They also talked with legendary bands such as Baekdoosan and Mahatma, as well as young bands like doom metal band Gonguri and black metallers Kryphos, whose music video O'Dwyer previously produced, and others whose names are too profane to print.
Working without a budget, the pair instead dedicated their lives to filming. Henderson learned the discipline to wake up at 6 a.m. on weekends, editing the film over six months.
"This certainly has been the biggest single endeavor of my life," Henderson said. "We started in November 2016 and planned and shot for just over a year. I've been organizing and editing for the past six months. I think I will have surpassed 1,000 hours myself by the time I'm done."
O'Dwyer, who lived in the remote mountain city of Taebaek throughout production, traveled to Seoul weekly to take part.
"Making this film really was like sprinting uphill while having a refrigerator strapped to your back!" laughed O'Dwyer, who like Henderson worked full-time as a teacher on the side. "It was a rare week that I didn't spend at least a day actively working on some aspect of this documentary."
Both added they reached out to about a dozen others for research, translation and archival footage.
The two feel strongly about Korea's metal scene, as shown in the scale of their endeavor. The documentary helped them rationalize their experience and create a "testimonial," in Henderson's words.
Ian Henderson (middle) and Michael O'Dwyer (right) work on production of their documentary "K-Pop Killers." / Courtesy of Ian Henderson |
But O'Dwyer has already moved away, and Henderson aims to leave by next year. But the amateur filmmaker isn't done with Korea yet.
"With the arsenal of knowledge and skills I've gained, I'm super excited to go into my next project," said Henderson, who's been part of Korea's metal scene for almost 10 years. "I haven't revealed what it is yet, but it will be in Korea."
"Hopefully people will see the film and see the stories of this vibrant art scene," O'Dwyer said. "These rebels and their everyday rebellion within a society that has an often crushing pressure to conform."