Daughters of Club Bilitis

Korean lesbian drama.

Yes, breathe and repeat after me: Korean lesbian drama.

Watch it here on YouTube. 

Say what? Am I in the twilight zone? I must be because I thought that I would need a time machine to see anything like this happening.

Yeah, it's only a one episode special, but still! It's an hour-long special following three lesbian couples—high school-ers, 20-30 year olds, and a middle-age couple—whose lives are intertwined, and it addresses some of the issues lesbians in Korea face, such as coming out, self-acceptance, enforced heterosexuality, and above all, THEPARENTSHOLYSHIT. And you know what's the best part? It was done in a socially sensitive and respectful way.

Can I just say that I am pleased as punch that this drama was made with the quality that it was? It isn't an obscure, independent project with no-name actresses to be pushed under the rug of obscurity and shame, only its memory to be salvaged by lesbians desperate for any sort of representation in their media.

Women of Club Bilitis (Actresses). Left to right, top to bottom: Yeo-kyeong (Ahn Ji-hyeon), Yeong-Eun (Oh Se-jeong), Myeong-hee (Choi Ran), Hyang-ja (Kim Hye-ok), Joo-yeon (Jin Se-yeon), Han-na (Han Go-eun). 

Daughters of Club Bilitis is made by KBS, one of South Korea's major broadcasting networks (my mom says it's the best one *shrug*) featuring actresses who are household names. I was practically breast-fed dramas with Choi Ran and Kim Hye-ok and I came to see them as drama staples like my mother and aunts do. The ajummahs, mothers, mother-in-laws--hatefully manipulative and meddlesome, yet incredibly all-suffering for the sake of their dumb ass children. (See this hilarious blog for what I mean: Stuff Korean Moms Like.)

Imagine my surprise when I saw them in this drama. It's like your favorite aunt coming up to you and telling you that she's gay and that she knew you were gay when you were just a gay fetus swimming around in your mom's uterus, just like she's telling you that the sky is blue. Whiplash!

But in a good way, a really good way. It's like... like the actresses like me. These older actresses from a completely different time, in a relatively conservative country despite its progressive changes, accept me. And it feels good. In a strange way, it buoys me with hope.

But let's be real here. Nothing got my spirits up like when I saw that Han Go-eun was in this. Playing a lesbian. Damn right, I got my priorities straight.

I've loved her since Like Father, Unlike Son ten years ago when she pinged my gaydar. Fine, it wasn't the gaydar that she pinged, but still, I fell in love just the same. I mean, how could you not? There's definitely something about her though.

Where do I even start wth this one? The necklace? The hair? The tank top? It's all working for me.

Say what? Shut up. 

Watch Bilitis if only to see her rock the hell out of blazers.

But back to the point—much regretfully—this is a touching and important work. To my knowledge, this is the first time that lesbians have been realistically and positively portrayed in the Korean media. There have been a few snippets here and there (Scarlet Letter, Five Senses of Eros, Portrait of a Beauty), but you almost always get the feeling that it's for the male gaze or it's sending a message that being gay is sexually deviant behavior. It's certainly never been positive, though, perhaps, tragic.

Here in Club Bilitis, we have a stable lesbian couple in Myeong-hee and Hyang-ja who own the eponymous haven for other Korean lesbians that don't always have the freedom to be themselves anywhere else. You get a sense of tightknit community not only between the main characters, but also between the club's customers who look up to the older couple. The couple deals with their own issues with the entrance of Hyang-ja's daughter from a failed marriage, supporting the lesbian community, and aging.

Then there's Han-na and Yeong-eun who have got their plates full as well. Not to spoil the drama, but they deal with issues relevant to women of marriageable age. And finally, there're the baby dykes, Yeo-kyeong and Joo-yeon who are in the tenth circle of hell known as high school. And it's vicious out there. They struggle just to survive emotionally unscathed at those confusing times in their lives while seeking others like themselves.

Sadly, physical displays of affection are sparse. There's no kissing or sex scene, and even the hugs are practically non-existent. You could almost believe they're just really, really close BFFs that share the same bed. But you're missing the point if that's all you're holding your breath for. The actresses' performance and the writing are powerfully poignant. I mean, I suppose I had low expectations regarding the sexual aspect to start with. But along the way, I found that I hardly missed it. Their stories struck a chord in me and sucked me right in.

Aww, cute gay ajummahs have always had a place in my heart. 

I guess you could call Club Bilitis a Korean L Word. But honestly, I don't think that gives it enough credit. The L Word and Club Bilitis have different significance because of the time and place they were made in. The US, as ass backward as we are in terms of civil rights, trudges begrudgingly to address LGBT issues and has a relatively noticeable representation of gays and lesbians in the media. While I'm no expert on the state of LGBT issues in South Korea, what I do know is that their LGBT community is still struggling to be recognized. The difference is, The L Word made lesbians chic in America while Club Bilitis put Korean lesbians on the map and argues that they are sentient human beings just like straight people. 

Now you tell me which one is groundbreaking.

If you'd like to watch it, I've uploaded them on YouTube here, but they don't have English subtitles. I'm working on translating them but I'm afraid my first-grade level grasp of the language will only get me so far. If anyone would like to help out, I'd really appreciate it :) In the meantime, I'll post rough summaries/transcripts here as I go along.