Time for noraebang! at SDFF2025

The story of a North Korean defector trying to find a new life, and perhaps some queer love, in South Korea’s cosmopolitan Seoul.

Being an openly-ish gay male in South Korea is a fairly recent thing, and though there are now several “gay districts”, in Seoul and other places, there is still a sense of hesitancy to live loud and Proud. But like so many other wondrous things to come out of Korea in the last decade or so, the rainbow children of Korean society are colorful and fun and, always, entertaining. And just like those oh-so-boring straight folks, the queer guys experience love, and heartbreak, and the whole range of overwhelming emotions when looking for connection(s). Make sure you’ve got plenty of the feelz to go around, and let’s dive into this!

So Cheol-jun (Cho You-hyun) is a defector from the austerity that is North Korea, a place where individuality and freedom are the things of dreams, and is compelled to attend the same college prep classes and, yes, church services too, with his fellow defector compatriots here in South Korea. The fact is that Cheol-jun is quite, if not terribly openly, gay, and fears that if the church services were to learn of this little fact, they would cut off his aid, and so he searches for meaningful connections through a series of bland hookups via phone apps. Like a little baby gay floundering about, Cheol-jun mopes and flails, until finally gathering his courage to attend a gay meet / blind-dating gathering that he was invited to by a friend.

To be openly attracted to the guy in the room, everyone agrees is the most handsome, is a safe thing when playing matchmaker meetup games. It takes real courage to be openly attracted to someone else, someone with whom you might have an instant, inexplicable, connection to, ziiing. Fear of rejection is a hard thing for anyone, and the shy, introverted defector Cheol-jun may be a lot more so. Some people can’t force their other-people-anxiety out of their own houses anymore, and Cheol-jun made it all the way through the gathering and the eye-rolling drag-race-like games, surrounded by strange if attractive gay men, most of whom ignored him once they discovered Cheol-jun wasn’t terribly interesting other than being an NK defector.

Cheol-jun has a part-time job at a convenience store, and Yeong-jun (Kim Hyun-mok), who had also attended the gay gathering, runs into him there, as Yeong-jun lives in the neighborhood.

The two become hesitant friends, and Yeong-jin takes Cheol-jun on an eye-opening journey of the thriving gay Seoul scene.

Except, it kind of isn’t. For all that the fellows who attended the gay gathering like to get together as often as possible, they all know each other too, and ostensibly have slept with one another as well. The gay gang has to use a numeric code when texting each other about the frequent meetup spots, which is where the title of the film comes from. The code of conduct amongst the

gay men is often referred to, where whatever happens behind closed doors stays there, and in no way, shape, or form will anyone leak any kind of details to the public limelight, ever. Doing so could actually lead to worse things than possibly getting arrested, and none of these sometimes-catty bitches actually want anyone to die.

Cheol-jun navigates his way through increasingly complicated relationships, his own loneliness and desires for meaningful connections, and ultimately both love and heartbreak in practically the same breath. Remember the code, and perhaps you’ll fall in love, too, with the charming little film 3670.