From a “joke” to Kim Jong-un’s mysterious North Korea

Could an application that began as a “joke” transform into something real and one-of-a-kind? In Maria Giannouli’s case, it can—and it did. The filmmaker ended up visiting a country that, to a large extent, remains closed off as a tourist destination: North Korea.

One of the few things we do know about it is the (absolute) dominance of its leader, Kim Jong-un. But let’s start from the beginning.

North Korea hosts an International Film Festival in its capital, Pyongyang, and in 2025 it ran from 21 to 28 October. Giannouli’s documentary, Health and Healing in Ancient Greece and China, was accepted into the programme. She submitted the application together with the film’s producer and director of photography, Chronis Pechlivanidis—“almost as a joke,” as she tells fyi.news.

And that was how the two of them travelled to Beijing, China, “with mixed feelings of fear and excitement,” and from there boarded a Russian-made aircraft operated by Air Koryo—the only airline that flies to North Korea, whenever a route is scheduled as needed.

Their experience of this singular journey to a country we know so little about began on the plane itself: eating “Western-style burgers” and watching a stern state police officer pace up and down the aisle throughout the flight, sharply reprimanding a passenger who raised a mobile phone to photograph a flight attendant.

North Korea—officially the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea—is a country that, as Giannouli puts it, “lives its own version of reality.” It is cut off from the outside world, and the media—radio, television and the press—function as instruments of propaganda, as the regime itself acknowledges. In Giannouli’s view, the media “keep the people occupied with programmes that are completely controlled.”

Inevitably, as she describes it, the airport check—carried out in a small room—was extremely strict and thorough. One striking detail, however, was that officials kept a Greek–English travel magazine and a Greek-language Jules Verne novel. Still, despite those conditions, once they cleared the controls they were met with a warm reception from dozens of photographers and cameramen, along with festival escorts and volunteers.

Living in the North Korean capital requires state permission, meaning Pyongyang remains out of reach for a large part of the population.

“Pyongyang belongs to the social and professional elite and isn’t accessible to everyone. Police and the military control the city’s borders to prevent members of the lower classes from the provinces from entering,” Giannouli says.

Outside Pyongyang, the picture is different socially and economically. “People there are poorer and more oppressed.” Nature, however, keeps its own rhythm. For the two visitors, “the landscape around the five-star hotel where we stayed on the sacred Mount Myohyang, three hours from the capital, looked breathtaking.”

It “looked” breathtaking, though, because they were not allowed to explore it.

Back in Pyongyang, it is impossible for visitors to move around freely. That is why there are professional minders—fluent in several foreign languages—with a single mission: not to let you out of their sight.

Even under those conditions, the capital’s striking images are generously on display for visitors.

“We were shown—always from inside the bus—the modern districts of the city with their colourful high-rise buildings; the blocks of futuristic skyscrapers; trendy barbecue restaurants; and ultra-modern motorways with a handful of expensive cars—Chinese-made as well as domestically produced—and very few electric scooters. Giant bronze statues of Kim Jong-un adorn many corners of the spotless, park-filled city where the favoured North Koreans live. We visited museums, the Arch of Triumph marking liberation from Japanese rule, an ultra-modern children’s hospital with paintings of Western fairy tales on the walls (Snow White and Cinderella among them), and a maternity hospital shaped like a mother’s embrace—just some of what appeared before me,” Giannouli recounts.

“Meanwhile, women in North Korea receive leave from work three months before giving birth and three months after, and milk (if they don’t breastfeed), as well as nappies, are provided free by the state.”

The most privileged residents of the capital also have greater access to products and imagery from other countries, mainly China and Russia. No one, however, has access to the internet—“because the Americans cut it off, that’s what they’re told.”

“They do communicate with each other through their own local network, via smartphones. They order food and buy clothes online—usually Chinese knock-offs. And through the films they watch at the Festival, they get glimpses of the outside world,” she explains.

In fact, in the film that opened the Festival, one of the lead actresses had an OnlyFans account.

Certain rules governing everyday life—such as dress—are particularly strict. “Jeans are considered a symbol of capitalist conformity and are therefore banned for both men and women. Make-up is allowed only after graduating from university, and it’s limited to powder and a little lipstick in muted tones—no manicures,” she notes.

The metro is a story in itself. It is among the deepest in the world, located 36 storeys underground, and can be used as a nuclear shelter.

Giannouli recalls “the chandeliers decorating the stations, the soothing music over the loudspeakers, the pervasive calm—no stress—the dozens of people of all ages getting on and off the carriages, like something out of 1970s Berlin. As if they’ve surrendered to fate.”

Beyond touring the capital’s neighbourhoods, she and Chronis Pechlivanidis also wanted to visit a supermarket. So they asked for an exception.

“We split from the rest of the invited group and visited (always accompanied) a local supermarket. We found it was no different from an average Greek supermarket: a range of local products, an ATM at the entrance, and upstairs modern household appliances, children’s clothes and toys—including plastic ballistic missiles,” she says.

Beyond restrictions on movement, there was another limitation.

“We couldn’t have direct contact with ordinary people, and we couldn’t photograph or film whichever sights we wanted. As time went on, they became less strict, but we were always taking photos under their watchful eye,” Giannouli says.

Still, in the moments she did find herself close to ordinary citizens, she observed people who were “welcoming and proud, dignified without arrogance, with a distinctive sense of humour and self-deprecation.”

She also saw “couples and families who seemed affectionate, strolling through the city on a day off.” “I was told the government encourages marriages based on love so they will last, and that people can get divorced if they wish—though it’s extremely rare,” she adds.

At school, children in North Korea are introduced to the arts from an early age. As Giannouli says, “education plays a significant role in daily life. From a young age, children learn musical instruments, dance, singing and painting—all at a very high level.”

She also recounts a distinctive moment from the trip: attending a musical-theatre performance featuring talented children and young artists, and being brought on stage at the end to take part herself. “It was an extremely awkward moment I couldn’t refuse!” she says.

At the same time, young people spend their time going to the cinema, bowling, rowing and, generally, “they exercise a lot—mainly basketball and football. Basketball is Kim Jong-un’s favourite sport.”

His fondness for basketball is well known; he has even been photographed in an upbeat mood with Chicago Bulls legend Dennis Rodman, from the famed team once led by Michael Jordan.

In North Korea, women’s football is also highly successful, with the national team among the world’s top sides, ranked ninth globally.

“Through their teams’ victories in international competitions,” Giannouli says, “the regime showcases the nation’s strength and wins the people’s trust—people who remain completely cut off from the outside world. North Koreans, after all, are not allowed to travel abroad without state permission.”

She also had the chance to watch and admire “the astonishing acrobatics of their artistic gymnastics champions” at a theatre-circus show.

In the end, the “alien country,” as Giannouli says she imagined it before her visit, remained “alien” to a degree. And yet, “humanity always finds a way to slip into even the most unusual corners of the planet.”

For the residents themselves, of course, the presence of visitors may feel alien too. “They looked at us discreetly and somewhat numb. It was as if they were invisible—like they weren’t allowed to have any meaningful contact with us, even through a glance,” she recalls.

What moved her, however, was the audience’s reaction when her film’s award was announced at the festival’s closing ceremony.

“The spectators were unexpectedly expressive and applauded the award enthusiastically, which really touched me,” she says.

After all, that is what art can do: connect, move and stir powerful emotions—everywhere on the planet, from the most conventional places to the most “alien.”