Let's Work Together
“Huh?”
It was a single phrase from Director Ryu, who was staring straight through him.
“I mean, let’s work together.”
Woojin’s eyes widened, but it was music to his ears—nothing could have sounded better. Watching from the side, Seong-cheol broke into a satisfied smile.
“I was already thinking of casting Actor Baek Woojin, but after talking with you, I’m even more certain now.”
The conversation, started by the young actor’s bold opener, had now shifted to the veteran director.
“You already had the exact image of Yeonsan that I’m aiming for in mind.”
With a pleased smile, Director Ryu continued, tossing a question at Woojin.
“From a director’s perspective, what’s the most curious thing about an actor?”
His voice was low and steady—a question that might seem out of left field, but clearly another pivot to deepen the discussion. Just like how Woojin had gradually narrowed the broad strokes of his thoughts earlier. The director was steering the talk in the exact same way.
“Acting ability.”
“Right. That’s spot on.”
Director Ryu nodded at Woojin’s immediate response.
“Of course, an actor’s skill is the top priority. So, what’s next?”
“Next?”
“Yeah. In a situation like this, where it’s not an audition but just a casual ‘meeting’ with someone like you, Actor Baek Woojin.”
“Um… I’m not sure.”
As Woojin made a puzzled face, Director Ryu turned to Seong-cheol.
“What do you think, Seong-cheol?”
“Hmm… Probably the actor’s charm?”
“Exactly! They want to see what the actor’s like off-screen.”
Director Ryu clapped his hands with a sharp, cheerful smack.
“A meeting means the acting and image are already solid. Why else would a director meet with an actor? Right?”
It made perfect sense. Woojin nodded, and Director Ryu refilled his empty cup with green tea.
“It’s about meeting as people, not just director and actor. Conversations reveal a lot.”
Beyond the script, Director Ryu began sharing everything Woojin had been curious about, holding nothing back.
“To start from the beginning, Seong-cheol here is my most treasured actor. We promised long ago that my retirement project would be with him.”
His expression turned serious as he gripped Seong-cheol’s hand, affection shining in his eyes.
“Even before writing the script, I had Seong-cheol in mind for Im Sa-hong. Naturally, I obsessed over who the young actor could be to create the best chemistry with him.”
Seong-cheol chimed in.
“That’s why I recommended you to the director. I told him I wanted to work with you.”
“The moment you recommended Actor Baek Woojin in February, I watched his drama right away. And I fell for him completely. Do you know why?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Dead serious when he’s serious, endlessly playful when he’s playful—yet that unwavering gaze never falters. It overlapped perfectly with the Yeonsan I’m envisioning. And above all…”
Director Ryu took a sip of the steaming tea before continuing.
“That immersion, diving completely into the character’s situation. It was outstanding among actors his age in the drama. It didn’t feel like acting—it felt like the character himself.”
“I’m just grateful for the repeated praise.”
Woojin focused even harder on the director’s measured, unfolding words. Each one was igniting a fire in his chest.
“And I just felt another layer of charm.”
“May I ask what?”
“The attitude and posture you’re showing right now.”
Director Ryu’s face brimmed with satisfaction.
“That’s why, when you answered about Yeonsan earlier, I said it was impressive. It felt like ‘this actor has anticipated my questions and come fully prepared.’ Especially that bit about pondering it for a week—it really hit home.”
The master’s praise kept flowing.
“As you know, Red Petals is my retirement film. It means more to me than anything. And I sensed that same level of responsibility and love from you.”
This meeting was in the very early pre-production phase, just before filming ramped up. Woojin’s casting was under positive review, but not yet locked in. Even so, this young actor had already researched the character—and gone further, grasping the creator’s intent. In that moment, Director Ryu had already decided in his heart.
We have to do this together.
“I’ve worked with countless actors and rookies. But I’ve never seen a newcomer who comes to a casual meeting—not even an audition—and gives off the vibe of being prepared for the project.”
“No, sir. Once you trust me and give me the chance, it’s just what an actor should do.”
“I told you, Director. This guy’s work ethic is unmatched.”
“You could learn a thing or two from him, Seong-cheol.”
“Hey, Director!”
In the midst of their earnest, frank exchange filled with praise, Seong-cheol playfully bowed out, easing the slight embarrassment. The atmosphere grew even warmer and more relaxed. The rapport between the director—the ultimate decision-maker—and his two leads was seamless. It left everyone wondering just how electric their on-set chemistry would be.
“That was a long intro. Anyway, moving on…”
This time, an intriguing story spilled from Director Ryu’s lips.
“No matter what I say, you know acting far better than I do, Actor Baek Woojin. But the Yeonsan I want is like this.”
He drained his second cup of tea and spoke.
“I’d like audiences to see Prince Yeonsan not as ‘someone unfit to be king’ or a ‘tyrant,’ but as ‘a man born into the wrong era and circumstances.’”
The image of Yeonsan the director wanted to project through the screen.
“In simpler terms, in scenes of madness, rather than just ‘this guy’s crazy,’ I want to evoke pity—true tragedy.”
A figure whose achievements as king existed, but whose atrocities burned brighter in history. Yet the director hoped audiences would sympathize with the man himself, beyond his deeds. It aligned perfectly with Woojin’s own approach to the role. That must have been why the director’s eyes had sparkled.
“Of course, we’ll depict Yeonsan’s tyranny exactly as recorded, without holding back. Historical accuracy will be meticulous.”
“……”
“Audiences will see the tyrant as he was. But within that, I want good and evil coexisting—like light and shadow.”
Profoundly complex. Hard to grasp from words alone. Like the gap between theory and practice, acting only reveals its truth once captured on camera. These were reference points for analysis, not precise directions. They remained abstract until embodied on set.
So why bring it up now? What was the director really getting at?
If he thought about it…
“Director.”
Woojin spoke softly. Director Ryu and Seong-cheol fixed their gazes on him. What answer would this young actor pull out now?
“I’m confident.”
His response was simpler than expected.
“Huh?”
Seong-cheol looked baffled, but
“Hahaha.”
Director Ryu laughed heartily once more. Seeing it, Woojin smiled too.
He’d nailed it.
Woojin and Director Ryu exchanged nods.
“What? Am I the only one out of the loop?”
Seong-cheol tilted his head, prompting Director Ryu to pat his shoulder.
“Actor Baek Woojin.”
“Yes, Director.”
“The more I see, the more amazed I am. It’s like you know exactly what I want to hear and say it ahead of time.”
Precisely.
The discussion on Yeonsan’s image masked the director’s underlying intent: Can you pull this off?
Reading between the lines—the hidden motives of the speaker. It was a skill honed through 500 auditions as a trainee.
Countless audition scripts, just 1-2 pages, demanding full analysis of context, speaker, emotions. Director Ryu, unaware of Woojin’s trainee past, was beyond impressed—stunned by this young actor grasping his intentions so swiftly and engaging horizontally.
In the industry’s vertical hierarchy between a rooted master and a rookie, Woojin approached as an equal. As a partner in crafting the work. How rare was a newcomer this comfortable and unreserved? Maybe the first since Seong-cheol.
Director Ryu clenched his fist. His conviction solidified.
“I’m looking forward to it. We’ll hash out the details on set.”
No young actor could embody Yeonsan better than Woojin. He extended his hand once more.
Woojin gripped it firmly, his voice bright and eager.
“Thank you for trusting me, Director.”
“I’ll have the assistant director contact your agency.”
“Yes. I’ll prepare thoroughly.”
“I trust you. Looking forward to it.”
“Me too, Director. I’ll give it everything. Thank you.”
Director Ryu beamed.
“I’ll be in touch, sunbae.”
“Yeah. See you soon.”
“Yes. I’ll head out first.”
Woojin bowed to Director Ryu and Seong-cheol before leaving the office. As the door closed, Director Ryu flashed Seong-cheol a thumbs-up.
“You were right, Seong-cheol.”
A heartwarming close. Seeing the director in high spirits, Seong-cheol’s shoulders lifted too.
“If not for my prior dinner with investors, we could’ve grabbed a meal and talked more. Too bad.”
“Yeah. Let’s set something up soon.”
“Sounds good. Hahaha!”
“Shall we go, Director?”
Director Ryu’s signature laugh echoed through the office once more. And so, the first meeting—for Director Ryu, Seong-cheol, and Woojin—ended, leaving all three eagerly awaiting the start of filming.