Sundance Film Festival (5)

After the screening of the opening premiere, Swing in Chicago, ended, cinephiles who spilled out into the lobby of the Egyptian Theatre gathered together in one spot, drawn to each other like magnets. Strangely, they were dressed almost identically. They wore glasses, plaid shirts, and slightly hip jeans and jackets. This was what distinguished a "cinephile" from any other "nerd."

“What happened? How did it go?”

“...”

“How was the movie! Keep it under ten words, no spoilers, short and sweet!”

At the specific request of the cinephile who hadn't seen the movie, someone who had been standing dazed finally answered.

“I have to see it again.”

“What?”

“I need to own this movie and watch it over and over again...”

“W-what on earth does that mean? Are you being sarcastic?”

The festival of cinephiles, the Sundance Film Festival. Their reaction to Sion Lee—who had kicked open their narrow gates to showcase a show business career adorned with all kinds of flashiness—was naturally expected to be the absolute worst. That was why they had come to ask for impressions, fully expecting the movie to be a disaster. Yet, to get a reaction like this.

“I... I don't even know. I just snapped out of it and ninety minutes had already passed.”

“Alex, at the end...”

“Whoa! Spoiler alert!!”

The cinephiles threw a stern warning at their clumsy comrade who dared to spoil the film.

Meanwhile, a similar situation was unfolding nearby, though in a completely different direction.

“...”

“...”

“...Guys.”

They were in a state of massive shock after watching the film. First by the visuals, and next by the dark, depressing story that was completely different from the teen movies they had seen so far. But once they got past all of that, they couldn't snap out of the overwhelming immersion that a good film provides.

Finally, one of them spoke up.

“I'm going to follow Sion for the rest of my life.”

“Me too. Fan for life.”

“When I make it big, if Sion dies, I'm going to embalm his body.”

“Hey, that's a bit...”

“He'll be a grandpa by then.”

“Wait, that's the problem? Not the embalming part?”

“No! Sion will definitely still be handsome even as a grandpa! I mean, look at him in this movie!”

The three girls chattered noisily, and before they knew it, they had come to think this way: even the white trash version of Sion—with a beer gut, a beard, and greasy hair tied back in a ponytail—was "cool."

And so, the 1991 Sundance Film Festival began in earnest.

After the opening night, which felt like a mass migration event, the Sundance Film Festival quieted down just a bit. Unlike ordinary festivals, this was an event attended by real cinephiles, so there weren't many flashy events designed to attract tourists. Many people went home a day or two after the opening reception, and the rest turned back upon hearing that the movies were sold out and there was no lodging.

The traffic cops controlling the crowds must have been miserable, but it was still a boon for Sundance. Thanks to that, even if only for a moment, they had garnered massive attention.

And it was certainly a boon for Sion Lee as well.

His first project since his regression. Considering the landscape of the 1990s, it received an unprecedented amount of attention for an indie film.

The year was 1991. There were no internet communities where one could check reactions in real-time, but Sion had a sort of internet correspondent who gathered a week's worth of news for him.

It was none other than Charlie 'Network' Kang.

“I get it. I'll pamper you when I get home.”

The only downside was that, in exchange for his services, Sion had to deal with a nagging Charlie as if they were an old married couple.

...Though he had never been married, nor had he ever thought of getting married, in either his past or present life.

“...? All of a sudden?”

“Can you tell them to express their gratitude with money?”

“...Even I wouldn't cause that kind of trouble.”

Hearing Charlie's evaluation, who still perceived him as a "brat," made Sion feel strangely small. It was the weight of his long-standing karma.

“Well, not bad.”

Still, at Charlie's follow-up question, Sion was finally able to puff out his chest and answer. He thought it was best to play it cool in situations like this.

In reality, after the first screening, he could feel that things had gone completely wild.

He couldn't easily wander around Park City, which was crawling with people who would recognize him, but Daniel and James, who had gone out a few times for coffee or meals, told him what they had heard from others.

“The response is absolutely insane.”

Sion's acting, the film's quality, its identity as an indie film. Although it couldn't be called a perfectly made movie, that very "indie" feel enhanced its charm.

And because of that, various "side effects" were beginning to emerge.

“It's about time, Charlie.”

He hung up the receiver of the phone in the waiting room provided by the theater. Soon, after the industry screening ended, interviews with reporters, film industry insiders, and critics were scheduled to take place.

'Alright, from here on out is what matters.'

Sion calculated the potential questions and the optimal answers in his head. The response from those who had seen the movie was incredibly favorable, and as his next goal, he needed to spread the new spark ignited at Sundance across the nation.

'Let's stir up as much attention as possible.'

Confidently, as "Sion Lee" usually would. If he did that, many people would flock to him to exploit his fame, and while his commercial value was maintained, the possibility of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠landing better projects with favorable articles would open up.

'Because in Hollywood, being a good actor isn't enough.'

As he calmed his mind, a knock sounded on the door.

“Mr. Lee, the interview is about to start.”

Sion checked his smile one last time and walked out, only to find the director, Daniel Summit, frozen stiff with tension.

“S-Sion. Please look after me.”

“...Don't be so nervous. Just think of it as picking your teeth after a meal. It's that easy.”

Passing on his personal tip for not getting nervous in front of crowds, he walked with him toward the theater.

Unlike during the screening, the house lights were fully on, allowing him to see the faces of the industry insiders who had watched the film.

The fifty or so people all had expressions that said, 'What did I just watch?'

In fact, those sitting in the audience had been in the film industry for at least several years, if not over a decade. Though their roles differed, they were experts in their respective fields and possessed ample knowledge of cinema. To such people, the most prominent element that brought this film to life was, without a doubt, Sion Lee's acting.

'I really, truly don't get it.'

'Why has he been hiding this kind of acting ability until now?'

'Isn't this basically a giant middle finger to everyone he's worked with so far?'

'It was good. Truly. To think an actor this young could deliver such a mature performance.'

'Well, he's not even twenty yet, but if you think about it, his acting career is actually quite...'

It was a performance calculated stitch by stitch, like a master craftsman. Most of those who caught onto this stared blankly at Sion as he took his seat at the front of the screen to prepare for the interview.

His handsome looks were so unchanged that they briefly wondered if he was the same person as the Alex they had just seen on screen.

When the moderator opened the floor for questions, several people raised their hands at once. One ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of them was called on, took the microphone, and spoke.

“Lillian Rondeau from the Los Angeles Times. I really enjoyed the film.”

“Thank you. Your blonde hair is absolutely beautiful.”

As Sion spoke into the microphone with a playful grin, the reporters' expressions began to sour rapidly. Flirting at a solemn film festival interview? Everyone thought the same thing.

'Ah, his acting might have changed, but the person hasn't.'

But Lillian continued unbothered.

“I'm curious as to why you chose this project, and why you decided to showcase a completely different style of acting.”

Hearing the question, Sion pondered for a moment before speaking.

“Well... isn't the first question usually directed to the director? And don't you usually ask just one question? I know you were shocked because this movie is so killer, but since this is a ski town and there aren't many places to grab a drink, I'd prefer we take things slow.”

Listening to his leisurely, relaxed response, Daniel Summit thought:

'We're doomed. That is the conclusion I have reached after careful consideration.'

He had known Sion was this kind of actor all along. But because they had gotten along so well during filming and Sion had shown such a serious attitude toward cinema, Daniel had forgotten until now. He had forgotten that until recently, Sion was an actor who did interviews entirely his own way whenever he appeared in the media.

“But since you asked, I'll answer. Choosing the project was a coincidence. But the moment I saw it, auditioned, and talked a bit, I knew it would work. The director has a great aesthetic eye. You can feel his intention in how Chicago is portrayed. He's a director who never shot a single scene carelessly. That's why I was able to work even harder.”

Sion spoke smoothly without a single hitch. Watching him naturally hype up the director beside him, a few quick-witted reporters raised their eyebrows. Because this was a side of Sion Lee that he definitely would not have shown before.

“And as for the different acting... I don't really know. I just did 'well' like I always do.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

It was a flippant answer that wouldn't have been surprising if someone had shouted, "Get a load of this shameless bastard!" from somewhere in the room. But this was a film interview, not an academy of cinematic arts, and in accordance with the rules of the floor, there was no rebuttal.

Answering what needed to be answered, brushing off what he didn't want to answer with humor. In that manner, the interview naturally continued to revolve around Sion Lee.

Of course, questions were also directed to the director. Especially since the conception and direction of the work were entirely his responsibility.

“I wanted to metaphorically capture the reality faced by the younger generation in America, including myself, in an imaginary ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠world. As the end of the 20th century approaches, we are lost and wandering. Unemployment is rising, and people are pushed into dangerous situations. We have to fight to survive, but we don't even know what we're fighting against... I wanted to capture that world. Yes, at first.”

Gulping, Daniel continued.

“But while filming, I realized. If it's just that, I might capture the world I imagined, but it would lack truth. I realized I was trapped in a narrow world. So I felt a change was needed, and the person who helped me with that process was Sion Lee.”

Someone asked, “What was your intention behind the open-ended directing and ending that allow for multiple interpretations?”

“I wanted to respect the perspective of each audience member. I saw the world through my own narrow lens, so while I had my own image of Alex, I didn't want to force it. So the ending changed from the first script, but I believe I expressed everything I wanted to direct.”

Can evil committed by the weak to survive truly be considered evil? It was a rather provocative question for a rookie director who had just made his debut film.

Therefore, rather than sinking into it and capturing only the bleakness of the world, Daniel Summit focused more on the personal narrative of the character Alex. And he asked the audience: what kind of story did the 'Alex' you imagined go through, and what kind of end did he meet?

“I didn't just throw out bait without any resolution, though... I want to say that this work is completed by the conclusion the audience draws.”

After that, the conversation balanced fifty-fifty between the artistic merits of the film and the buzz surrounding it.

“Weight? I gained about ten kilograms in a month. Kept growing the beard. I didn't wash my hair for about three days before shooting to fully express Alex. Since I was challenging a completely different direction of acting from my previous filmography, I wanted to make it absolutely clear. Man, sitting on the couch and chugging whipped cream spray all day felt absolutely fantastic.”

Hearing this, the reporters thought as they kept their voice recorders running:

'Didn't you just say you acted "well like always"?'

'We get what you mean, but isn't this answer too casual?'

Even so, it was undeniable that a wealth of highly interesting material was being generated.

“Ah, it was my first time shooting without spending a lot of money, so there were many fun moments. It was my first time calling over people gathered at the shooting location, giving them quick instructions, and asking them to extra. Oh, I didn't just ask for help. I made sure to buy them pizza, and we had a great, warm atmosphere.”

Just then, someone who raised their hand was handed the microphone. Upon seeing her face, Sion's expression almost lost its composure for the first time. Because she was the last person he expected to be in a place like this.

Fair skin, platinum blonde hair that looked almost bleached. A height in the mid-160s. An impression that sat right on the boundary between girl and woman. Her beauty, deeply inheriting Slavic blood, carried a cold, elegant, and sophisticated aura.

Elena Asimov. The teen actress who had co-starred with Sion Lee in his previous film, Deadly Summer Camp. Born into a prestigious acting family, she was a talent destined to be hailed in the future as the successor to Meryl Streep.

The question that came out of her mouth was as follows:

“What do you think acting is?”

Sion, who had been slightly tense, fought to suppress the smile spreading across his lips. This was the perfect moment to generate a brilliant buzz just when he felt something was lacking.

Although they had played a couple in their previous film, it was well-known in Hollywood that they had gotten along terribly throughout the entire shoot. Several articles had even been written about it. Many reporters would undoubtedly describe a question asked by such a person in this setting as "aggressive."

'In that case, I should play along.'

To pour gasoline on the fire, Sion pulled out the lighter that was his tongue.

“It's a tool.”

“What kind of tool?”

“It's one question per person...”

He shot back mischievously, but Elena did not lower the microphone. Sion let out a soft sigh and answered.

“A tool to make money, to do a job. Because I'm an actor.”

He could feel several filmmakers in the room looking visibly uncomfortable at his words. Of course, it went without saying that many of the reporters were thrilled to have snagged such juicy copy.

But Sion didn't care.

“Does that answer your question?”

His voice was relaxed. Sion, believing he had gotten what he needed, secretly hoped she would sit down for her own sake, but Elena, worked up, crossed the line.

“I hate you.”

Leaving only those words, she calmly sat back down.

Amidst the dead silence of the room, Sion thought:

'Well, tomorrow's interview headline is set.'