‘Good News’ turns 1970 Yodogo hijacking into sharp satire, earning critical praise
Actor Hong Kyung plays Seo Go-myeong, an Air Force lieutenant tasked with deceiving hijackers into landing at Gimpo International Airport in "Good News." Courtesy of Netflix
What if Pyongyang Airport were actually Seoul’s Gimpo International Airport in disguise — complete with North Korean flags, soldiers in uniform and flower-bearing greeters? That’s the bold premise behind “Good News,” director Byun Sung-hyun’s latest Netflix film, which has drawn praise for its sharp satire and inventive storytelling.
The story follows a plan to deceive nine members of Japan’s far-left Red Army Faction, after they hijack a Japan Air Lines flight from Tokyo to Pyongyang, into landing instead at Gimpo International Airport. As the plane descends under the illusion of arriving in Pyongyang, the hijackers soon sense something is off.
Inspired by the real-life Yodogo hijacking incident that took place in March 1970, “Good News,” released Friday, reimagines the event through Byun’s distinct lens. The director, known for “The Merciless” (2017), “Kingmaker” (2022) and “Kill Boksoon” (2023), blends political tension and dark humor into a satirical thriller.
“The idea started from wanting to create a story that begins with a quote and ends by questioning its truth — a critique of authority and bureaucracy,” Byun said in an interview on Tuesday. “When I came across the Yodogo incident, it felt like a perfect fit for that theme.”
The film opens with the line, “Truth sometimes lies on the dark side of the moon, but that doesn’t make the bright side false,” attributed to a fictional philosopher named Truman Shady and recited by Nobody, a mysterious fixer (Sul Kyung-gu).
A scene from "Good News" / Courtesy of Netflix
Its paradoxical title, “Good News,” reflects the film’s exploration of the blurred lines between truth and deception, a theme embodied by both the idealistic hijackers chasing a communist utopia and Air Force lieutenant Seo Go-myeong (Hong Kyung), assigned to trick them into landing at Gimpo International Airport instead of in Pyongyang.
Byun said he approached the story as a dark comedy about ideology and cynicism in a post-ideological era. “I wanted to capture the boredom and frustration I feel listening to today’s news — the absurdity of political division — through satire,” he said.
Infused with Byun’s signature flair for rhythm and energy, “Good News” blends tension, humor and chaos into a stylish ensemble piece.
The unpredictable plot, eccentric characters and snappy editing sustain its 138-minute runtime without drag, leading viewers to call it “the best Korean Netflix film ever made” and “Byun’s most entertaining work to date.”
Sul Kyung-gu plays Nobody, a mysterious fixer, in "Good News." / Courtesy of Netflix
Even fellow filmmakers have been reaching out to congratulate him, Byun said. “I’ve been getting messages from directors I barely know, saying they really enjoyed it.”
The film’s performances add another layer of charm, as Hong Kyung plays Go-myeong, the ambitious yet conflicted young officer; Sul Kyung-gu is mesmerizing as the enigmatic fixer; and Ryu Seung-beom portrays a sly, power-hungry intelligence chief with deadpan humor. Japanese actors Show Kasamatsu and Nairu Yamamoto bring authenticity to the hijackers’ roles.
Byun said he poured everything into “Good News.” “It’s the hardest I’ve ever worked on a film,” he said. “Comedy scared me, so I pushed myself even more. I wanted viewers to chuckle throughout, then leave wondering, ‘Was it really okay to laugh at that?’”
A scene from "Good News" / Courtesy of Netflix
The Yodogo hijacking unfolded on March 31, 1970, when Japan Airlines Flight 351, a Boeing 727 nicknamed “Yodo” — meaning “still water” — bound for Fukuoka, was hijacked shortly after takeoff from Tokyo’s Haneda Airport by nine young members of the radical Japanese Red Army Faction.
Armed with pistols and katana swords, the hijackers — aged 17 to 27 — attempted to divert the plane to North Korea in what became one of the most bizarre and politically charged episodes of the Cold War, born from the turbulence of Japan’s 1960s student protest movements.
This article from the Hankook Ilbo, the sister publication of The Korea Times, is translated by generative AI and edited by The Korea Times.