But in just surveying the area, that would go easily unsaid.
This story could have been an exposition of an area that is obviously really fucked-up. At the Kim Il Sung memorial museum, he points out, "I've never walked down such long hallways!" He makes up a triumphant theme song for his cold and stoic guide. He tries introducing them to reggae, but they only want to hear battle hymns. Rather, like an untouchable ghost probing an apocalypse, he curiously probes this civilization of soldiers and tries to make light of the madness. There is no real point where he feels threatened. He knows being in North Korea, as one man, as a Westerner, as an out-of-shape cartoonist, that he is helpless. By giving a copy of 1984 to a North Korean, he is not trying to incite action, but that little node of consciousness that he is attempting to discern so he can dissect it. His mischief is not revolutionary, but more experimentation. And like Roberto Benigni in Life is Beautiful or the Good Soldier Shvek, he frollicks along making the most of it.
On the contrary, he is keenly aware of how superficial it is to an absurd degree. He's not oblivious to the poverty and deprivation that surrounds him, the outlandish facade that Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il have set up in Pyongnang to make Westerners feel like it is a magnificent city. He is a swell, dopey man with a positive attitude and a wish to have fun and enjoy himself despite the circumstance. We have a semi-autobiographical story about when Delisle comes to North Korea to be an animationist.