In the new film The Interview, which Rogen directed with longtime writing partner Evan Goldberg, he plays trash-TV producer Aaron, who has become bored with pop culture gossip. Then he and his bimbo host, Dave Skylark (James Franco), score an interview with Kim Jong-un (Randall Park).
There's a catch and a twist: First, a CIA agent (Lizzy Caplan) commands Aaron and Dave to assassinate Kim Jong-un for the good of the world. Second, Skylark and Kim Jong-un instantly hit it off and spend the trip cruising in tanks listening to Katy Perry, banging chicks at orgies and bonding over the pressures of media scrutiny and disapproving parents.
Sighs Kim Jong-un, "You know what's more destructive than a nuclear bomb? Words."
In June, two weeks after Sony released The Interview's first trailer, the Korean Central News Agency slammed Rogen as a "gangster filmmaker" who had made a "blatant act of terrorism and war." The country promised stern and merciless retaliation and warned that Kim Jong-un himself would see The Interview.
"We were told that they have good hackers in North Korea and that they've probably hacked into Sony's servers and watched the movie already," Rogen says.
Sony had been worried about The Interview for months. At its Tokyo headquarters, the company had a front-row seat to Japan's diplomatic efforts to soothe relations with North Korea. Sony CEO Kazuo Hirai reportedly asked studio head Amy Pascal to tone down the film, which she told Rogen was the corporation's only creative command in her 25-year career. "You have the power to help me here," Pascal emailed Rogen.
One month before The Interview's December 25 opening date, computer hackers imploded Sony's online network, vaporizing its communications, pirating five new films, publicizing employee Social Security numbers and spilling embarrassing inside information. By the time pseudonymous emails threatened Sony employees' families, some workers were so exhausted that they stood in the hallways and wept.
Then things really got bad.
Nine days before Christmas, an anonymous group calling itself the Guardians of Peace vowed to launch a 9-11-style attack on any theater showing The Interview. By the next morning, the five largest theater chains in America had dropped the film. Hours later, Sony folded: The Interview was canceled. Said the studio, "Sony Pictures has no further release plans for the film." Kim Jong Un may have already seen the movie -- but, for now, Americans won't.
Was North Korea behind the attack -- and the subsequent threats? A government spokesman denied involvement but accused Sony of "abetting a terrorist act" and suggested the studio "reflect on its wrongdoings." U.S. officials, meanwhile, say they have found "a linkage to the North Korean government."
What's most telling about Kim Jong-un's regime, a mind-controlling, monolithic dictatorship beyond the wildest dreams of Joseph Stalin or Mao, isn't that it was furious at a Hollywood film. It's which film.
It wasn't Olympus Has Fallen, the cruel action flick with three Oscar nominees in its cast.
It was the comedy written, directed by and starring a man last seen sword-fighting with a dildo.