Sue Kim’s New Documentary Catches a Diluted Glimpse of Haenyeo’s Reality
A haenyeo diver of South Korea’s Jeju Island in The Last of the Sea Women on Apple TV+.
On August 8, 2022, large-scale floods hit Seoul and its surrounding areas, causing massive landslides that damaged smaller cities, towns, and villages. Runoff from the mountain ranges slid into the Pacific Ocean; tons of sediment and freshwater poured into the seawater, yielding an unprecedented collision of different ecosystems. Fishermen were dismayed to head into the waters the next morning and reel in thousands of dead abalone from the bottom of the sea. The aquatic animals that provided sustenance and income to fishing villages could not survive the sudden overnight inundation of freshwater diluting their homes.
Currently, South Korea’s government responds to climate change with human-made technologies: new systems to monitor water levels along with an influx of dams to vulnerable areas, turning them into islands cut off from major cities and sources of water. No stranger to the privatization of public aid and solutions to crises, President Yoon Suk-Yeol willfully ignores other human-centered solutions that have existed for centuries—such as those long practiced by Korea’s haenyeo for the love of the ocean.
Haenyeo divers of South Korea’s Jeju Island in The Last of the Sea Women on Apple TV+.
The Last of the Sea Women, a new documentary on Apple TV+ directed by Sue Kim and produced by Kim, Malala Yousafzai, and Erika Kennair, is about the dwindling population of haenyeo, or female sea divers. It is a feel-good story about both women’s empowerment and the urgency of protecting our oceans. The documentary’s visuals and uplifting storytelling evoke a romance for the sea, akin to its contemporaries such as Mission Blue (2014), A Plastic Ocean (2016), and even My Octopus Teacher (2020). Featuring well-timed cuts to the polluted shorelines of Jeju Island to set an urgent tone, tension arrives when the documentary follows Japan’s decision to dump all of its treated radioactive wastewater from the Fukushima nuclear plant into the seas surrounding Korea by March 2024. Given its distance to Japan’s borders, Jeju Island would be the first to experience the effects of the release. Amidst this imminent disaster, haenyeo uphold dying local traditions of sustainability, and environmental organizations such as Greenpeace have looked to haenyeo to fight.
The documentary positions haenyeo as essential fighters against our dying oceans, but too often we rely on romanticized and tokenized leaders or groups to save the planet. In the interest of a filmic narrative, The Last of the Sea Women conveniently glosses over how much haenyeo and their families have already suffered.
Jeju Island, in particular, has always been hurt by artificial borders. When the United States established its military on the 38th parallel in 1945 to effectively isolate South Korea from bordering communist countries and inculcate capitalistic ideals, Jeju Island residents pleaded Korean leadership to find some resolution with the Soviet-occupied northern part of Korea without Western involvement. Their dissent escalated into protests and an uprising against the growing power that sought to suppress them. In retaliation, the newly militarized South Korean government executed and massacred Jeju Island’s protesters and rebel groups. It is estimated that between 14,000 and 30,000 citizens were murdered in one of the least discussed genocides in modern history. In the years that followed, South Korea maintained censorship campaigns that effectively silenced and warped the magnitude of the massacre.
Haenyeo diver Lee Hee Soon in The Last of the Sea Women on Apple TV+.
Jeju Island continues to struggle for its autonomy, the reclamation of its history, and the dreams for a unified Korea. In an extreme swing away from former President Moon Jae-In’s reunification efforts with North Korea, incumbent president Yoon Suk-Yeol has used his term thus far to escalate military drills and slap sanctions on North Korea. Furthermore, days before Japan began to dump wastewater, the South Korean government issued a tepid statement declaring that it saw no problem with the scientific or technical aspects of Japan's plan to release water from the wrecked Fukushima nuclear power plant. This is but one instance in a series of inaction and disregard for an increasingly inhabitable planet. In the coming months, Yoon’s administration will exacerbate climate change by building more dams that isolate lower-income communities, reduce biodiversity, and worsen flood conditions, which will ultimately affect the ecosystems of islands of the Korean Archipelago. In Yoon’s neoliberal agenda, there is no room for Jeju Island, a territory that has long wished for peace and reunification.
Fukushima’s wastewater is not an isolated incident for Jeju Island’s workers and residents. It is important not only to recognize and educate ourselves on haenyeo and fishing villagers who acutely experience the daily, localized effects of climate crises, but also to challenge the borders in Korea that have driven anti-feminist, ageist, classist rhetoric while staunchly upholding rapid modernization. The Last of the Sea Women does not make room for these intersectionalities; its depictions of the island’s women divers thus feel one-dimensional.
Any attempt at a reflection on the contemporary daily lives of Jeju Island inhabitants without acknowledgement of its history feels empty and self-serving. Most attempts lapse into negligence: well-wishers arrive at the archipelago to gaze upon the modern haenyeo, ask uncritical questions about their histories, and, at worst, drive unchecked tourism.
A haenyeo diver of South Korea’s Jeju Island in The Last of the Sea Women on Apple TV+.
On the surface, Kim has created an emotionally resonant narrative about ocean conservation. The film beautifully portrays haenyeo rituals and a love for the local environment. There are subtle glimpses into their daily lives without overt explanations: the freshly picked mugwort resting on a diver’s goggles, the melodic breaths of the haenyeo as they come up for air, indigenous shamanic rites that bind the divers to their ancestral spirits. If all of this instills awe for Jeju Island, we should sit with the conflict that haenyeo are dwindling in population as a result of our American zeal for a neoliberal South Korea.
Haenyeo are not our saviors, nor should their work become reduced to time capsules. They deserve the basic care and regard that their country has not offered because of the Western imperialist agenda for division. But to frame them as struggling is misleading, as their lives are rich with interiority and strength. Perhaps what should be examined is our need for human-centered stories in order to care about the very issues that we create.
