If you’ve seen Bong Joon-ho’s masterpiece, you probably think you know the story. You don’t. Not really. Most people see the film and assume it’s just a moody thriller about a botched investigation in rural South Korea, but the reality of memories of murder 1990 is far more haunting than anything captured on 35mm film. This wasn't just a movie plot; it was a national trauma that paralyzed an entire country for years.
Honestly, the year 1990 was the breaking point. It was the year the police realized they were totally out of their depth, and the year the public's patience finally snapped.
When we talk about this case, we’re talking about the Hwaseong serial murders. Ten women were killed between 1986 and 1991. But 1990 was different. By then, the investigation had turned into a circus of desperation, bad science, and "vibes-based" policing that would make a modern forensic tech faint. They were looking for a ghost. They found a nightmare instead.
The Chaos of the Memories of Murder 1990 Timeline
By the time the ninth victim, 13-year-old Kim Mi-jung, was discovered in November 1990, the South Korean police were under immense pressure. Imagine the scene. You have over 2 million police officers mobilized over the course of the entire investigation. You have tens of thousands of suspects. Yet, the killer was still out there, seemingly mocking the authorities.
The 1990 murder was particularly brutal. It happened in a residential area, not a remote field. The killer used the victim's own belongings—a hallmark of his signature—and the sheer audacity of the crime in a high-security atmosphere was a slap in the face to the government. This was the era of the "War on Crime" declared by President Roh Tae-woo. The stakes weren't just about justice; they were about the legitimacy of the state.
People often forget how primitive the technology was back then. DNA testing? Forget it. In 1990, the Korean authorities actually sent samples over to Japan for analysis because they didn't have the facilities to do it themselves. The results were often inconclusive or contaminated. It was a mess.
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Why We Get the Suspects Wrong
If you watch the movie, you see three main suspects who represent different types of "failures" in the system. But the real-life investigation was even more chaotic. They weren't just looking at local weirdos. They were rounding up anyone who didn't fit the profile of a "productive citizen."
Basically, the police were obsessed with blood types. For years, they were convinced the killer had Type B blood. This was based on evidence found at an earlier crime scene. They spent years—literal years—narrowing down their search based on this one potentially flawed metric. Thousands of men were interrogated just because they lived in Hwaseong and had Type B blood.
Then there was the "superstition" factor. It sounds crazy now, but investigators were so desperate they consulted shamans. They even tried to "frighten" the killer by placing straw dolls in the fields. It was a collision of ancient Korean folklore and a modernizing society that hadn't quite figured out how to use a microscope yet.
The Myth of the "Rainy Day"
One of the biggest misconceptions fueled by the film and popular retellings is that the killer only struck on rainy days while "It's a Rainy Day" played on the radio.
It’s a great cinematic device. It’s also mostly false.
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While some murders happened during inclement weather, several did not. The killer wasn't following a movie script; he was opportunistic. He was a predator who lived among the people, likely watching the very police officers who were trying to catch him. The 1990 victim was found during a period when the police presence was at its absolute peak. Think about that. He was killing while the police were literally standing on the next corner.
The 2019 Bombshell: Lee Choon-jae
For decades, the memories of murder 1990 remained a cold case. It was the ultimate "one that got away." That all changed in September 2019.
Thanks to advances in forensic technology that didn't exist in 1990, the Gyeonggi Nambu Provincial Police Agency finally got a match. The DNA belonged to Lee Choon-jae.
The kicker? He was already in prison. He’d been there since 1994 for the rape and murder of his sister-in-law.
When Lee finally confessed, he didn't just admit to the ten Hwaseong murders. He claimed he’d killed 14 people and committed over 30 rapes. He described the crimes with a chilling lack of emotion. He even said he was surprised he hadn't been caught sooner, considering he’d been stopped and questioned by police several times during the original investigation.
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- The DNA Evidence: Modern techniques allowed scientists to extract DNA from the collar of a victim's clothing that had been sitting in storage for 30 years.
- The Wrongful Conviction: Because of the bungled 1988/1989 investigation, an innocent man named Yoon Seong-yeo spent 20 years in prison for the eighth murder. He was exonerated in 2020.
- The Statute of Limitations: By the time they caught Lee, the statute of limitations for the Hwaseong murders had long since expired. He couldn't be prosecuted for them. He stays in jail for his 1994 crime, but the "Memories of Murder" crimes technically went unpunished by the law.
Lessons from the Hwaseong Failure
Looking back at the memories of murder 1990 era, it’s easy to judge the detectives. They were violent, they used torture to extract confessions, and they ignored physical evidence in favor of "gut feelings." But they were also working in a system that prioritized speed over accuracy.
The case changed everything about how South Korea handles violent crime. It led to the creation of the first dedicated profiling units and a total overhaul of how forensic evidence is collected. It also eventually led to South Korea's decision to scrap the statute of limitations for first-degree murder in 2015—a law often called the "Taewan Law."
If you’re a true crime fan or a cinema buff, the real takeaway isn't the mystery of "who did it." We know that now. The takeaway is the cost of incompetence. It’s the lives lost because a police department was too busy trying to look tough to actually do the science.
How to Deep Dive into the Real History
If you want to understand the true scope of the 1990 investigation beyond the Bong Joon-ho film, you need to look at the primary sources and the recent judicial outcomes.
- Read the Exoneration Filings: Look into the 2020 retrial of Yoon Seong-yeo. The court documents provide a brutal, unfiltered look at how the police coerced confessions in the late 80s and early 90s.
- Compare the Profile: Research the FBI’s involvement in the later years of the case. They provided a profile that was eerily accurate to Lee Choon-jae’s personality, but it was largely ignored by local authorities at the time.
- Watch the Documentaries: There are several Korean-language documentaries (many with subtitles) that interview the original detectives. Their perspective is fascinating—many still carry the guilt of the 1990 failure, while others remain strangely defensive of their methods.
- Analyze the 1990 Media Coverage: If you can find archives from the Chosun Ilbo or Dong-a Ilbo from November 1990, you'll see a country in total meltdown. The fear was palpable. It wasn't just a news story; it was a societal haunting.
The case of the Hwaseong serial killer is closed, but the "memories" of that era—the mistakes, the victims, and the systemic failures—continue to shape Korean society. It’s a reminder that justice isn't just about catching a bad guy; it's about building a system that doesn't create new victims in the process.
Actionable Insights:
To truly grasp the impact of this case, move beyond the movie and study the 2019 DNA breakthrough. It serves as a masterclass in how forensic genealogy and cold-case technology can correct historical wrongs. Specifically, look at the "Kim Mi-jung case" (the 9th victim from 1990) to see how the specific signature of the killer eventually linked back to Lee Choon-jae through microscopic fiber analysis and updated DNA sequencing. This wasn't just luck; it was the result of decades of evidence preservation finally meeting 21st-century science.