Pyongyang

Delisle's depiction of life as a visitor in North Korea - unable to take photographs, but obviously no one can prevent him from drawing - is unnerving in more than one way.

First, there's what he actually shows us; the empty highways, the empty hotels, the way nobody ever just strolls trough the streets of Pyongyang, the way the Great Leaders are literally everywhere, elevated to godhood status with all outside influences removed. His referencing 1984 several times is on the nose, but still fits: This is a society where Big Brother not only is watching, but has taught (or at least seems to have taught) the people to watch themselves as well.

"You're familiar with Marx? Very good."
"A little... but isn't everyone?"
"No. For a capitalist, it's very rare."
"Really...?"

Then, however, there's the fact that as a Westerner, he is completely outside this. He can afford to tell his guides exactly what he thinks, give them subversive literature that could get them in trouble, speculate on what they're actually thinking but aren't allowed to say, portray them as exactly the kind of mindless, humourless drones and tell jokes at their expense. There's an unpleasant sense of Mighty Whitey syndrome, understated but still there; it's not just that he can't get to actually know any North Koreans, but also that he doesn't seem to want to. It's all very Lost In Translation. There's a certain poetry to the fact that he's in North Korea to teach North Koreans how to animate Western cartoons - teach them how to understand how people (or fictional children's versions thereof) actually act - that I sort of wish had been developed.

I see a lot of [drawings depicting] versions of "The triumph of socialism". Always with a wide chest and a square jaw.

Good thing we don't get that over here, huh?