Thu. Apr 25th, 2024


In 1977, four years into Lee’s original sentence, Korean-American journalist K.W. Lee became interested in the case. He wrote a two-part series in the Sacramento Union that brought attention. Soon, the community, led by student activists like future public defender Jeff Adachi and friends like Ranko Yamada, rallied for a retrial. The film’s title was their battle cry. The Korean-American community, the Asian community at large and even Black activists joined the protests. Eventually, civil rights attorney Tony Serra got involved. As a result, Chol Soo Lee became a “celebrity” of sorts, an example of how broken the justice system is. There was even a song written about his plight, much like Bob Dylan did for “Hurricane” Carter.

K.W. Lee tells us that Chol Soo is the most common Korean first name, so his case felt like any Korean-American was on trial. While Chol Soo Lee was flattered and honored to have his case rescued from relative anonymity, “Free Chol Soo Lee” shows how heavily this weighed on his conscience once years of activism got him a successful retrial in 1982. He was found not guilty when a witness called Witness X pointed out that the man who shot Yip Yee Tak could not have been Chol Soo Lee. Witness X referred to Lee as being far prettier than the murderer. Indeed, Lee had matinee idol looks, making one wonder what might have happened if life had dealt him a better hand.

In a more just world, Lee’s release in 1982 would have been the happy ending that closed out “Free Chol Soo Lee.” But the film has an entire third act to go. It’s here where Yi and Ha do their best work, tying all their former threads together and documenting Lee’s reactions to an almost preternatural streak of bad luck. Some of the wounds are self-inflicted, but every action is marked by the psychological and physical damage incarceration exacts on the human psyche.

Couple that with Chol Soo Lee’s desire to feel that he deserved everyone who fought for him, and “Free Chol Soo Lee” becomes a powerful tale that represents more than its subject. Every talking head, from the journalist Lee to the quirky activist Serra, speaks to the wider issue of minorities being denied basic rights, and what can be done to demand change. Chol Soo Lee’s complicated story deserves to be told; this film does a good job telling it.

Now playing in select theaters.

By Dave Jenks

Dave Jenks is an American novelist and Veteran of the United States Marine Corps. Between those careers, he’s worked as a deckhand, commercial fisherman, divemaster, taxi driver, construction manager, and over the road truck driver, among many other things. He now lives on a sea island, in the South Carolina Lowcountry, with his wife and youngest daughter. They also have three grown children, five grand children, three dogs and a whole flock of parakeets. Stinnett grew up in Melbourne, Florida and has also lived in the Florida Keys, the Bahamas, and Cozumel, Mexico. His next dream is to one day visit and dive Cuba.