All language subtitles for The People in White

A film by Yong-Kyun Bae

Script : Yong-Kyun Bae

Film & Lighting : Yong-Kyun Bae

Editing, Art & Props : Yong-Kyun Bae

Music: Dong-Wook Park, In-Ho Park, Gun-yong Lee, Kyung-Hwa Lee, Sung-Ho Hwang, Stephan Mikus

Recording: Dae-Sung Kang
Effects: Dae-Ho Yang
Print: The Korean Film Council

Line Recording : Sang-Hyun In
Background Sound Recording : Yong-Kyun Bae
Assistant Director: Dong-Hyun Kim, Hong-Wan Kim, Jung-Ho Go

Directed and Produced by Yong-Kyun Bae

Many Years From Now

Hello, is anybody there?

Hello?

Excuse me, is there a room to sleep?

It’s under repair. We don’t accommodate any guests.

...They're gonna die.

Wait. It’s too dangerous to walk around.

If you didn't come, the fish would have died.

I'm sorry about your hand. People don't come here often.

It's fine. I'm not seriously hurt.

Would you like to try “Jin-Ja” liquor? There's some left after I prepared the food for the workers.

Not that good?

It is.

What is “Jin-Ja” liquor?

It’s Hazelnut liquor. The liquor is made of hazelnut.

In ancient times they used it for bronchial tubes.

Oh?

Don't you know?

It grew at the foot of the mountain in this area.

Well... It’s rare nowadays because of the excavations.

It looks like an acorn...

When the spring comes, the flowers bloom on the hazelnut trees.

You might have gathered their nuts when you were young.

It’s been forty years?

Yes... it was 1951... or 52.

Maybe it was 1953.

I left during the war anyway, that’s for sure.

If my son doesn’t come back, you can spend the night in his room.

I’m sure everything will be fine, I was too anxious today that I couldn’t bear it. I feel better talking with you.

He must have gone to the church meeting. Nothing will happen.

It’s too dangerous tonight. He went too far on a day like this.

Ha...strange. Is your name really “Alex Gahoffman"? You're Korean. What’s your original name?

It's strange that I don't remember it. I should have known my name.

When I was away, nobody called me by my name. So I forgot it.

When I grow up, I can only think of Alex. Alex Gahoffman.

How do you speak Korean so fluently then?

Well, I spent about...twenty years...

...maybe twenty three...I don't know...

...but anyway...

I lived...

...in the...special place.

It was about twenty years...

Some people there were Koreans...

...And my doctor often spoke it to me.

...the "special place"? Where is it?

Is it a secret?

Secret?

It's not a secret.

It's just a dark story...

I didn't want to mention it.

I just want to know...

...where my life started to get messed up.

A young mother called her child at the station this morning...

In English. I was surprised, and yet...

My heart was full of...

longing...

Then...your English name might be your real name?

No.

I don’t think so.

I've had similar situations like this before,

but the names were all different.

There was a girl-like name... "Sun-e"

When I recall the names I heard...

It gets unfamiliar.

Isn't it weird?

They could be friends...

...People I knew when I was younger.

Did you have any...

brothers or sisters?

I don't have any memories.

Maybe it could be that the woman...

had a similar voice to my mother.

She looked about thirty years old.

Was my mother thirty, those forty years ago?

Nobody...

There is nobody to tell me anything.

Everything is uncertain.

It's dangerous, but we're safe here.

"I’d like to inform you that the nationwide emergency alert will be lifted 23:00 tonight."

"The gang of armed fugitives who caused the alert were all killed or captured, with the help of the people."

"All the weapons and bombs they attacked and seized were recovered."

"Also, the armored vehicle they stole was successfully recovered."

"We have succeeded in getting our peace and security back."

"The military and police's cooperative action to protect people’s precious lives and property was successful."

"In order to maintain security and cleanup, all exits are blocked by the military until 09:00 tomorrow."

"Of course, Haecheon and the roads are closed. All riots will be controlled by the military. Do not worry..."

If I finish converting downstairs into a teahouse, it won't be messy like this.

I'm going to decorate all of this really nicely.

Also, if I make a small indoor fountain, these fish are going to move there.

Think about it.

Wouldn’t it feel fresh if you were a fish, getting rained on?

Are you listening?

Yes?

What's that noise?

I heard it a while ago.

He's a worker who sells children's books.

He catches the train at dawn but he always gets drunk.

He begged to let me stay here, so I made space on the second floor.

Have you...

...run an inn here long?

No, this is my hometown...

I left when I was a child, and only came back four years ago.

I lived in Seoul because my husband worked at a poetry publisher there.

Oh, next door is a pub.

They leave the neon sign running all night long.

The entrance is closed, but they still turn on the dance music.

Look, someone is dancing.

Don’t you remember?

I don't know...

Then, how do you remember this place is your hometown? You forgot your name.

That’s… The US Army who took me there...

...found me at Haecheon Station.

Even if your adoptive father found you at Haecheon Station,

you might have come from another place, right? Many people seeked refuge back then.

Well...

not really.

I remember parts of that day itself...

My family packed up our home,

I took something, and went to the train station right away.

I don’t know how I walked to get there...

It is too vague to remember it.

See, you are unsure about it. It’s the 40-year-ago memory.

If you go further to the south, there is a place called Haejin.

You might be mistaken, because it has a similar name.

Why are you so doubtful it could be here?

I'm sorry, but there won't be a single well with a persimmon tree here that you can find.

Here has changed a lot since the industrial complex built nearby.

Here, where you're standing right now,

would have been a field or hillside 10 years ago.

According to my memory, my village also had wide fields.

Do you really think that your village is the only place like that?

Hello? Yes.. yes.. no.

But... no... yes... Okay.

Okay...alright, goodbye.

Did your son call?

No.

Had you heard the story from your adoptive father?

That never happened.

That man, Mr. Gahoffman didn't adopt you?

No... There is no child between them.

But Mrs. Gahoffman strongly opposed adopting back then.

So, they sent me to their parents.

I got back on the plane...

...from the east to the west again.

I met good people thankfully, they welcomed me into their home.

That was the first time I could be myself.

Are they still alive?

No, they aren't.

Both of them passed away.

I believe that when it happened...

Both of them... both of them died when I was thirteen.

Then.. didn't you see Mr. Gahoffman afterward?

I finally found his address and visited his house after 30 years.

He had dementia.

Was he dead?

No, have you ever heard of Alzheimer’s disease?

It’s a disease where you don't remember the past at all and disappear into the dark...

For them, yesterday and today is the same.

He didn't even know who he was.

Did he become senile?

Senile? Well...I'm not sure.

How did you get the name “ Haecheon” from him? The name of the town being “Haecheon” is vague information.

He didn’t bring up the name...

Mrs. Gahoffman’s daughter did.

An rheumatized old lady who couldn’t move... was asleep inside. But, I couldn’t sleep.

I opened the door, turned on the lamp and walked down to the basement.

I went down to the iron rusty gate, which for ten years...

maybe no one had passed through.

When the light faded, I closed my eyes and fumbled around.

But when I turned the lights back on,

I saw under the dim light...

The relics which were slowly...

crumbling...and dispersing in the dark.

I turned them closely to the light.

At one time, they were so precious.

I found them on the night of Memorial Day.

It was a bunch of mold and damp,

unrecognizable letters and paper sheets...

which was from the battlefield,

all those forty years ago...

I finally encountered this feeling...

I found that my sense of self was fading away...

Also, the name "Haecheon" in the letter...

Was the name of the place written in Korean?

No, it was written in English.

But the doctor who saved my life, translated the letter.

He said that it’s “Hae cheon.” He did not know of “Haecheon” town.

"I can’t help recalling when the oil-tanker train was attacked, even though you would feel horrified, and scared to read it.

Train parts rolled around, columns of fire rose everywhere,

and pieces of burning iron poured out of the sky.

I saw many people, burning like red charcoal inside the train."

"The entrance of the station turned day into night because of the black smoke.

It was hell, there were refugees there fleeing from Changyang, who escaped from the attacks.

In the midst, I saw a bleeding child who was hit by the debris.

He must have run toward his family in the fire pit...

and fainted out. I still don’t know why and how the child...

was able to stay out of the train, all alone.

He had a fistful of roasted chestnuts in his hand, it was so strange.

I couldn’t let this child die, who collapsed in Haecheon where everything went to ruin."

You remember that day too, right?

It must have been shocking… You were just a child.

According to Gahoffman’s letter, I had fainted on the spot.

From then,

I had nightmares of that time, follow me into adulthood.

I also dreamed that I was going somewhere, holding my father’s clothes tightly in the midst of chaos,

but it turned out that he was not my father.

I wandered around to find my parents, I couldn’t see them.

Everyone was bleeding, with scalded faces,

and I could only see strangers...

I’ve had...too many traumatic dreams,

and I woke up crying, all through my childhood.

So, when I became an adult...

I couldn’t figured out if it was a dream or a reality.

I’ve seen the burning train several times in my dreams,

so it had felt more like a dream... before I read Gahoffman's letter.

It said you were bleeding and collapsed in his letter. Where did you get hurt?

I don't know.

Don’t you have a scar?

There is no scar left. It wasn’t that bad.

He said that you were hit by debris.

...it’s not a big deal.

You're like Mrs. Gahoffman, when you talk about the scar.

When he first brought me to his American house, she couldn’t believe the story of the letter because there is no scar.

She might have been doubtful because she opposed the opinion of her husband to adopt me into the family.

However, the wound could have healed quickly,

and he might have exaggerated the injury.

That doesn’t matter, does it?

Well, hmm...

Why?

Nothing...

What time is it now?

Night is coming.

I'm reminded of the time when I drove the express-train.

I had just taken a train on a new railroad track.

It was so big but it rolled like a coin.

I passed a monastery, but it was so quiet that it was otherworldly.

I was scared, and turned my head halfway.

There was a thick curtain,

covering a cage on the side wall, like a prison.

I could hear the music beyond. "Why do all the prisoners sing?"

Train passengers muttered who they were, and who had locked them up.

Were you in the train at that time?

No.

There’s a quiet, holy song coming out...

There was many purposes to the song:

To free the trapped people, to have my sins forgiven, to save the trapped people's lives…

The passengers murmured...“Who do you want you to save..?” “Who’s talking to who?”

I quickly turned on the lights in the room, like streetlights.

And then.. I rode the train with the sounds of a miracle.

Passengers clapped their hands and sang in chorus.

“Let’s go home!.. Come on!” “Don't take away the evening newspapers and the nice dinners!”

The express train got faster, and ran through the night!

There’s only one way. There’s only one last stop. Do you know what I saw?

Sir, have you lived here a long time?

Yes.. quite a while. Forty, fifty... years?

You might not remember me from forty years ago, but it was a very hot day...

We have many hot days in summer.

It was a terribly hot day back then...

There were many hot days.

It was not an ordinary hot day… people died in the weather.

Killed by the heat?

Yes, we could make a ball or beads...from the melted asphalt,

when we went out on the road.

Then, a car appeared and...someone screamed “ran away!”

People ran like hell because if we were caught here, we would get our eyes pulled out.

I ran across the field ceaselessly, and a huge bird came down like a bullet, and followed me right above my head.

I was passing by the entrance of a town, and there were many people gathered around a big car.

The driver had died because of the heat, but when I looked at the driver’s seat fearfully, there was no one.

When I saw something on the ground, I couldn’t look, I was too scared.

Later, when the people went back, the driver wasn’t there.

I stepped carefully there,

and found a piece of tissue and towel that looked like a mop.

Also, there was vomit with flies clinging beneath...

I cried behind the car...

You have a great memory. You explained your memory of forty years ago like a great story.

It’s because that it’s the first time I’d ever seen.

What do you mean? What did you see?

It was the first time that I saw...death.

No...maybe it was life.

Your story reminds me of something... a 3-track truck driver who died a long time ago.

Truck driver...?

He was a driver who did logging in the mountains.

Yes...Right...The trailer was loaded with trees… Or charcoal.

No...there were three of them.

He had lunch with some liquor, slept and passed out.

Then he was taken to the hospital, but he died after a few days. He was a driver, but he’s always drunk.

I feel sorry for his little daughter.

She was raised without a mother, and was taken from place to place as far as I remember...

Then, you must have lived near the town?

No, I only stayed on occasion to sell some essential goods, but I knew people who resided there.

Do you know the hill where they planted and cut down trees?

I could see it from the living room of my house.

Well.. There’s no mountain hill anymore because most of the mountain has been mined out.

It's all an industrial complex now. This place used to be just a hillside, too.

Then, you don’t know where the driver died.

I don’t know. I just have heard the story, and anyway, how do I know, as there’s no trace left?

It may be only left in my memory. Isn’t it somewhere around here anyway?

Sir, have you ever seen a house with a well, next to a persimmon tree?

It’s been forty years. What are you going to do, even if you find the well?

The world that you remember is gone. I am looking for a stream myself. Not in the past, but now.

To find a stream, put your ears to the bottom of the concrete like me. Come on!

The sound of oil leaking from the broken pipe.

I only can consider you as a stranger or fugitive.

I have work to do. Patrolling around this area, and checking tickets.

That's the reality of it.

Do your memories and thoughts... Emotions, hopes, and things like that...come together and inform you?

Could they have actually happened, the things you have seen and experienced?

Then... don’t the facts really exist?

The facts exist, but only the interpretations of facts exists to people.

People don’t have the rights, or capacity to keep facts.

Or maybe .. people don’t even have the abilities to keep facts.

Do you really exist in your memory? ..Or do you exist?

The fact you kept, is the fact you took in your way.

It's a fact that's “altered” your way.

You don’t have the ability to keep facts.
Like all people, the past is already distorted, from the moment you try to revive it.

Like all people, the past is already distorted,

from the moment you try to revive it.

You...the fact that you know as a fact is nothing.

The reality you believe is nothing more than a dream.

So maybe you’re...the one can be defined as nothing.

Did you know that you’ve been watched and followed?

Being followed?

Who...are they?

The people responsible for the security of this place.

Today was a state of emergency; but don't worry.

I know now. You're nothing. You're nothing.

Things I cannot see, can be seen by a person with clear eyes, but the things

which you cannot see, can be seen by me. I know...you're already a ghost

What do you mean?

...from a past that's gone.

What was the world that you lived in and disappeared from? ...I mean your home.

I don't know. I think it's somewhere in this area.

I'm pretty sure that my house was next to the well. When a hot summer night came,

I could hear a ghostly scream under the spring water.

If you've lived around here for a long time, don't you know the village where there was a shared well?

There was at least one in town. In the past.

Was there?

There were small yellow flowers floating in the well, and they gathered around the water flowing bucket.

Once I made them into a necklace with thread. I don't remember clearly, but it must have been a persimmon flower.

I am sure that a persimmon tree was standing by the side of the well. Of course, it happened more than 40 years ago.

Don't you know the well, where the persimmon tree stood?

There is no such thing as a yellow flower in a world of blind like me. Then it's in your mind or in your thoughts.

I have a memory of my town, too. When I turned right in the third alley, I felt the stone on my feet.

The stone path continued at the end of my stick. Then I smelt something boiling over the fence.

And at the end of that alley...a sudden cool wind blew in front of me,

and I stopped under the shade of a tree.

I used to think: "where should I go today"?

Was there a well around that place?

You can't say that you know what you see in front of you, just because you're an open-eyed person.

I do not know what I feel at the end of my cane.

But... don't you know what a well is? Have you ever drank from its spring water on a hot day?

I can never know the reality of the sky, but I don't deny that there is a sky.

Maybe it's true that the well you're talking about actually existed. But the well is no longer there.

The old wells were almost all removed by 1953 after the war, and the ones that have been made since then are different.

After the pipes were installed, they didn't even work properly.

Do you mean that by the end of the war, the old wells were almost all removed?

Pasts should be buried so that it becomes fertilizer for the present,

just like a house or factory stands.

Now everything has changed, I don't know… it’s nonsense. If you dig up your ancestors, you'll end up a traitor.

Maybe it's not a good idea to bring back the past.

But...

I didn’t do that. You are nothing but a ghost who walked out of the tomb.

Even if you can’t turn back time, the memories accumulate in your mind.

It’s all in one’s mind, which easily can be distorted.

Well, I just remembered something.

The sound that repeated every evening came from far away...

sometimes, the distance made it fade away with the wind...

I completely forgot about the sound since then.

I can teach you about that. Follow me.

Hey...can you hear the sound?

For announcing the evening service?

Once upon a time, there was a temple somewhere in the factory, but it was burnt down during the war.

People say that this sound goes at least 10 miles...is it similar to what you've heard before?

Brother!

Ho! Ho! Have a meal before you go!

Who's there?

Who are you?

Did you call me? I heard some noise while I slept.

I called you.

Did my son come home yet?

No.

I also fell asleep for a while, but I thought I heard my son come in.

He urgently called “Mom!”, and when I turned around, he passed by me, limping.

Maybe I was dreaming.

He even doesn’t call me "Mom". Get some sleep. I'm sorry for waking you up.

It's been several hours since the emergency alert ended.

Has it happened before?

Yes, ever since the prison was built under the mountain.

Prison?

I am not sure...somebody said it...but I do not know. How can I know what's under the mountain?

Under the mountain... which mountain are you talking about? Can I see it from here?

Do you hear the sound of motorcycle? Do you? It came from between the military sounds.

No... maybe a bit farther than that.

Can’t you hear the motorcycle sound?

Oh, it’s coming this way… with full speed.

I cannot hear it.

Yes.. It’s getting further… further and further. It’s not coming here…

It faded completely. It’s not my Jeongho. My son deeply loves motorcycles.

I begged and asked him to stop, but he says

that he is only alive when he rides at full speed. Once, he told me

that he knew the trick to stop time as he drove like that.

He said, “When time stops, there’s no past, there’s no future, there’s only the present.”

The devil of anxiety and loneliness can no longer be attached.
You understand my concern..

He wakes up in the middle of the night and takes his “Savior” out.

…Savior. It’s the name he has on his motorcycle.

Jeongho’s savior is too dangerous and scary, isn’t it?

Recently, he's been immersed

in all-night gospel prayer and revival meetings… that's good, right?

I think I can understand your son, but how old is he?

He's eighteen now...

Eighteen?

Don’t worry.

But, I can’t just wait, seeing him go around doing dangerous behaviors like that.

One day… all of a sudden... My heart rate rose, when I heard the phone ring.

Of course, there was a reason for ringing,

but when I get caught in the feeling of sudden dread,

my heart aches and it hurts so much.

The whole world is turning its back.

I am really scared to be alive when I feel like I cannot get help… Really.

When I feel that, sometimes, I think I can understand my son.

You asked me to wake you up.

Please get up. You said you're planning to take the train tonight.

Do you hear me? What’s wrong?

You said that your wife’s is about to give birth, right?

Don’t you even want to see the baby being born?

Are you going to miss the train?

Are you listening?

Are you listening?

My dad told me to take you.

Who?

The person who whistles a pipe.

What?

I asked my dad, and he said that he would be the blind messenger.

Why did your dad ask you to take me?

I asked to my dad “why the blind man whistling the pipe”, and he said that I should ask him.

Hey, I asked, why your dad asked you to take me?

My dad can’t sleep. The doctor said that my dad is going to die within few months.

He said, if someone would relieve his sickness, he would give his eyes to him.

Sun-e...

Mom, look over here, It’s strange. Come here!

Shh! Be quiet.

Mom, come here please. Look over there... It’s weird.

What do you mean? What is weird?

Mom, come here. Hurry! Look at the cross.

The hand...I mean the cross...the blood is flowing down, not tears...

Baby, What are you talking about? You're dreaming again.

Mom, look! The blood! The blood is flowing down the wall.

Stop talking, and go to bed. Heo, don’t make noise. There are strangers wandering around right now.

Heo? Where are you? Heo, Heo..?

Hey, wait there a minute. Don't raise your head.

Move, move forward.

You couldn’t know how long I’ve been waiting.

A man walking alone at night.

Well, I don’t have anything special to say, but...Do you know how long I’ve been waiting?

Oh, well. You look like someone I knew.

My colleague lit up the last cigarette, and got killed on the spot.

I can smell the same scent from your pocket. Don’t you understand?

You don’t know manners, do you?

Oh, there’s no need to grovel.

If I look alike, maybe we can be friends.

What? You'd be friends with a condemned criminal and a murderer? Have you ever killed a man?

I’ve also come out of prison.

Sure, there's no one you wouldn't kill...

Just smoke.

I can't remember, as I was on drugs...but I’ve killed two cops.

What… Two cops? Then you’re a definitely a ghost whose escaped from the death row.

I've been completely held back by incidents in the past two years, dealing with my father’s resentment.

Even if I escape from the past, my life is filled with the past, not the future.

But how can you wander around without being killed?

Because it was drug related, they sent me to the hospital where people are guilty of psychotic felonies... for about 20 years. Instead of the electric chair.

Electric chairs?

Don’t lie in this dark night.

I can...cannot believe it, either.

I saw those people in my dream. Just like this in this alley.

We saw them on our way through here last night. They were like that yesterday.

You had the same dream as me...

You are invited to the house’s fireworks.

Countless fireworks are coming down from the sky.

The flame invites you.

You are invited to the fireworks.

Welcome. We welcome you.

You’re losing your soul to the fireworks.

Flame gradually burns you, and burns your present.

You’re looking down at your present, which burns in the rousing fire.

You’re gradually going down, on an unfamiliar train leaving the present, for the past.

The train is going down from the mountain. You're a passenger on the train.

You're a passenger on the train. You hear the train’s sound.

The sound flows into your ears. Can you hear it?

If you hear it, You’ll grip your fist… grip it lightly.

When you hear the sound of the train, grip it lightly. Make a fist.

Fist. Fist!

My son hasn’t come back yet, has he? Don’t worry. He is a strong child.

You should know that. He can jump over a high embankment, and he can do somersaults...

once, twice, three times ...well twice.

"I’m immortal", he’s right…

I believe it. When the night comes, he starts the motorcycle engine.

It's silly! He dresses in black under the moonlight and doesn’t slip on the ice at all, even in winter.

Then he...turns around the alley just in time, runs down the road… runs over the hills...

avoids the street trees, runs right back on the road, crosses the bridge…

When time drags along... I mean, when I come back into reality,

I...I just pour the alcohol into the glass, and just watch the streetlight fade like a dot by the window...

I add water when I cough badly.

However, I cannot finish drinking... and just sip, little by little.

The world outside has already disappeared in this kind of night.

My grandmother died on such a heavy rainy night when I was only six.

She died after her daughter, without ever finding peace...it wasn’t long after the war ended.

I still have her portrait on the wall, and she is looking at me. There's several pictures I possess...

But the time is already over. It’s not easy to remember now.

Her voice was charred...like black smoke.

Do you know what the strongest thing in the world is?

Have you ever thought about the power of time? If you have, tell me:

what is not changed by time in this world?

I heard that even space has a lifespan. Not today, but... the distant past.

On a night like today, when I heard the rain pounding on the tin roof,

I came up with the memory that she lights candles because the electric light went off.

How did the lights go off? But, it was quite common at that time.

Remember? You might not know that. Do you remember this?

I tried to make a dog turn into a fox in the shadows, make it howl towards the moon.

I often imitated well.

She lit the candle on rainy nights like this, and she held her two fingers

with her other hands, so she raised her thumb…

How... How can I do this?

In the past, I played alone like that. I was the only child who had no sisters, nor brothers.

I didn’t figure out that hatred grew inside of me… for a long time…

How can children not remember?

How could a three or four year old have been carried by their grandmother, crying without knowing why?

Even if I don’t remember the memories of that time, when she was looking through straw mats one by one,

I still expect those hundreds of flies, buzzing to life after a nightmare.

She finally opened her mouth on a rainy night.

She was calm, so my young heart didn’t feel sad or scared.

She was as calm as the sound of rain hitting the tin roof.

She was calm, as if she remembered the history in her mind.

But the hatred that has grew with me was planted that day, and that tied me up for a long time.

Oh, I am about to cough.

I add some water in this case. Of course not a lot, a bit.

Which way was it?

While I spent life with hatred for the years, someone told me.

Did my grandmother tell me on that rainy night? Didn’t I remember? If not, no. I know now.

Even my grandmother doesn’t know.

The finger pointing to one way, ended up making us this way...or that way.

I realized the fact after forty years. The realization that brought me out of the hatred.

Grandmother doesn’t know, and I don’t know either.

The only thing I can know for now is the truth that everything in the world changes,

and the flow of the time is eternal.

The past has already passed, like a river.