A Dogmatic and Dangerous, Yet Persuasive Interpretation
The youngest member of the filming crew, Baek Hyeon-jin, was making a racket again. “Director-nim! Did you see it? You saw Actor Doyun’s performance, right?!”
Lee Tae-ryun shouted at Yoon Sung-woo, the cinematographer. “Do something about that kid. He’s going to drive me insane with all the noise.”
“Can’t. He’s the one who handles all the odd jobs for the camera team. At this point, I can’t even step onto set without him.”
“Ugh…”
Lee Tae-ryun rubbed his throbbing temples. The man who claimed directing was his dream always showed up on set in full uniform—sunglasses, trench coat, and hunting cap.
“Look at you, the legendary director of the century has arrived.” What made Lee Tae-ryun’s headache even worse was that the kid was actually competent. He knew full well that the position of youngest on the camera team was no easy role.
Yet Baek Hyeon-jin had already won over all the senior camera staff, and now even Cinematographer Yoon Sung-woo had fallen under his spell. On top of that, Lee Tae-ryun had heard the kid was spending all day spreading heartwarming stories about Kim Doyun to the rest of the crew.
I should never have let him join the camera team during that interview.
Instead of sending him to the understaffed camera department, Lee Tae-ryun had promised to let him learn directing alongside the directing team. That had been a mistake.
Lee Tae-ryun had been about to tune out the endless stream of Kim Doyun praise when something Baek Hyeon-jin said caught his attention.
“Actor Kim Doyun. Did you see how he acted like there was light shining on him at the end of the last rehearsal? Isn’t his directing sense absolutely insane? If I were the director, I would’ve hit that exact lighting cue right there!”
Writer Yun Song-i smiled at that. “Right? That moment where the light hits perfectly!”
“Whoa, even you noticed it, Writer-nim?!”
Lee Tae-ryun was dumbfounded. The entire set had turned into some kind of fan club meeting.
Honestly.
Kim Doyun’s acting was giving him a headache. It reminded him of the script interpretation Yun Song-i had consulted him about recently.
“Tsk.”
The play Flowers Fall was structured in three acts: Act 1, “The Beginning of Winter”; Act 2, “When the Petals Shake”; and Act 3, “Flowers Fall.”
What Yun Song-i had brought to Lee Tae-ryun for discussion was her interpretation of Sang-cheol’s character in Act 2. Min-woo, lost in artistic anguish, treats Ha-rang like an obstacle and responds to her with cold indifference.
The one who quietly looks after Ha-rang is Sang-cheol—covering her with an umbrella on rainy days, carrying her to the hospital when she collapses on the street. Ha-rang writes letters she can never send to Min-woo, and Sang-cheol happens to find one. Though conflicted, he ultimately chooses not to read it and seals it again.
That was where Yun Song-i’s earlier question had come from.
“Director-nim, why do you think Sang-cheol is a sculptor while Min-woo is an oil painter?”
“Here we go again. Go on.”
“Oil painting keeps adding layers, right? Until the perfect color comes out.”
“And?”
“But sculpture is the opposite. It’s about constantly carving away. Removing everything unnecessary.”
“So what’s your conclusion?”
“Sang-cheol. Even though he loves her, he would carve it away. He would pretend he feels nothing even when he does. That’s why he didn’t read Ha-rang’s letter. Because once he reads it, he won’t be able to carve it away anymore.”
Yun Song-i’s words had left Lee Tae-ryun’s mind in chaos.
“So what I’m saying is… maybe Sang-cheol loved Ha-rang too.”
Because of that conversation, a directing choice slightly different from his original vision had begun swirling in his head without him realizing it. A direction that would let Sang-cheol express deeper feelings toward Ha-rang than simple pity.
I never expected Kim Doyun to actually show it.
Director Lee Tae-ryun let out a long sigh and looked at Writer Yun Song-i.
“Our dear Writer Yun. When exactly did you slip that dogmatic and dangerous interpretation of yours to Kim Doyun? Are you really going around telling everyone he’s your fan?”
Yun Song-i tilted her head with a genuinely confused expression. “Huh? I never said anything like that. Didn’t you give him separate direction, Director-nim?”
“What…?”
Lee Tae-ryun had definitely seen it. Kim Doyun had acted out suppressed emotion. In a scene that could have been brushed off with indifference.
He had deliberately chosen to portray someone holding his feelings back. From the ad-lib of brushing off his clothes, to the suppressed emotion, all the way to avoiding the dazzling light reflected in the window at the end.
Yun Song-i’s extremely dogmatic, dangerous, yet irresistibly persuasive interpretation. Kim Doyun had clearly performed that exact reading.
Lee Tae-ryun was at a loss for words.
“This is ridiculous.”
What the hell is going on? Director Lee Tae-ryun was still just glaring in this direction without saying anything in particular.
Does that mean it was okay?
Well, if Director Lee Tae-ryun hadn’t liked it, he would have called me over and ripped into me long ago.
Then the remaining problem is Lee Se-rin.
I recalled the acting we’d just matched together. She really was going to become a ten-million actor in the future. She was good.
She was good, but…
With acting this perfect, what on earth is the problem?
I remembered a story I’d only heard in passing before my regression. Early in her debut, Actress Lee Se-rin had frozen solid during the highlight scene of a live single-act drama, causing a major broadcasting accident.
Since this is the first and last time Lee Se-rin will ever step onto a theater stage, this broadcast must be the one.
There had been countless speculations—forgotten lines, extreme nervousness—but the exact reason had never been revealed.
There’s no way an actress of Lee Se-rin’s caliber would freeze just because she forgot her lines or got nervous.
After matching her acting in person, I was certain of that much.
I clutched my head.
Then what the hell is the reason? More importantly, is this even something I’m supposed to solve?
Would worrying about it even change anything? If I just left it alone, it would definitely become a hot topic. There’s no material more sensational than a broadcasting accident.
Though I’m not trash enough to think that way.
The real issue was how to prevent it in the first place. I didn’t even know the reason, and she wasn’t about to tell me herself.
Thinking that, I looked over at Lee Se-rin.
“What?”
She must have felt my gaze, because she asked coldly.
“It’s nothing, Actor Se-rin. Your acting was so magnificent that I just couldn’t help myself!”
“If you’re going to say something weird, don’t bother asking and just focus on practice.”
Lee Se-rin sighed and turned her head away again. What a crazy ice queen. Should I just leave her alone?
The thought crossed my mind for a second, but I shook my head.
Hoo. I still need to find a way.
Even if her broadcasting accident generated buzz, there was no guarantee it would raise my own profile. If anything, it might cost me the only chance I had to act properly.
I had already tried approaching her several times about this concern, but every attempt had been shot down. Besides, it was well known that Actress Lee Se-rin rarely had personal contact with other actors.
She’s been the same since she was young.
So how was I supposed to solve this? I was struggling to come up with any sharp ideas when a familiar voice called out.
“Um, Actor Kim Doyun-nim!”
The urgent voice came from behind me.
Huh?
When I turned toward the familiar voice, Veteran Actor Bang Jong-su was approaching with a bright face. It looked like he had participated in today’s rehearsal as well.
“Thank you so much again today. Thanks to you, Actor-nim, I learned another valuable lesson.”
“Me? I didn’t do anything today.”
“What do you mean you didn’t do anything?!”
Bang Jong-su clenched his fists as if deeply moved.
“That acting during the rehearsal earlier! The way you brushed off your clothes before entering the hospital room! You did that on purpose, didn’t you? Because Sang-cheol is a sculptor, so his clothes would be dirty… As expected, when an actor is at your level, their character interpretation is on a completely different level!”
Ah, that made sense. While I could see it through Director’s Vision, it would have looked like strange behavior to everyone else.
As expected, actors who succeed analyze their characters thoroughly.
I smiled with a sense of satisfaction and answered.
“Today the other actor was so good that I got to stand out a bit too.”
“The other actor—you mean Actress Lee Se-rin, right?”
Bang Jong-su clapped his hands together.
“I’ve seen her occasionally while working as an extra. Since she’s such a famous actress, of course her acting is excellent. But at the very least today, you didn’t fall behind her at all, Actor-nim.”
“Come on, no way.”
“I’m telling you, that was the first time I’ve ever seen that genius actress Lee Se-rin make a slightly frustrated face!”
“No way.”
No way. That genius actress Lee Se-rin, because of my acting? That was impossible.
“Aigoo, you’re so humble. Oh, right! The tip you gave me last time—I’ve been using it really well. I wonder when I’ll be able to act like you, Actor-nim. Haha.”
The tip I gave him last time. Was it something he could keep using?
I was just about to marvel at how deep and wide an actor’s learning could be when he continued.
“Haha. It was nothing special, really.”
“Not at all. Still, you even prepared this memo for me again. I noticed you didn’t deliver it yourself and thought you might be embarrassed, so I didn’t mention it either.”
“Memo?”
What Bang Jong-su carefully pulled from his bag was a small, neatly written note.
What is this? Why does it look so familiar?
During dialogue, your voice is too honest. A slightly raspier tone would bring out more emotion.
In this scene, a more desperate look in the eyes is needed.
Even if the role is small, there is no such thing as a small actor.
“Ugh, when I read that line, tears came to my eyes, I’m telling you. That day the director had been scolding me for so long and I was feeling down, but…”
I couldn’t hear Uncle’s voice anymore. For a moment, my mind went completely blank.
It was exactly like the note someone had given me during my most difficult days as a background extra. No—the last line was identical.
“Uncle, that bag of yours…”
My urgent question came out with a slight tremble.
“Yes? Oh, the bag? This one?”
He lifted his worn-out bag for me to see.
So that’s what it was.
During the previous rehearsal, I had seen Lee Se-rin looking around before hastily slipping something into an old bag. At the time, I had simply thought she used a worn bag and hadn’t paid it any mind.
The phrase that had become the standard for my life. The anonymous encouragement that had supported me during my darkest, most difficult days. The words I had believed in until the very end.
Even if the role is small, there is no such thing as a small actor.
The person who had given me that note was—
“So you’ve been going around with that cold face doing things like this.”
—Lee Se-rin.
A hollow laugh escaped me. If it was like this, then I was in trouble.
I had no choice but to make sure she succeeded.
I would prevent Lee Se-rin’s broadcasting accident. And I would make her first live broadcast on the path to becoming a ten-million-viewer actor a success, no matter what it took.