Ready, Action
It was a closed audition, but when I casually let slip to Ha Ji-hyun that I was curious, she came back with a rather long list. Said she'd gotten it from the assistant director.
He was a greedy creature, so I'd predicted he'd show up to audition and that he'd fail — but when it actually happened, it still left me lightheaded. I can't tell you how much I agonized over whether that bastard might walk into the table read.
Depending on how well this film does, a lot of things will change.
My market value, and that of the other actors. The director's reputation, and the writer's. The scale of investment in any sequel.
And Mom's safety.
Filming would start in a few days. I was genuinely looking forward to it.
Midsummer. In August, the most sweltering stretch of the year, principal photography began on Joseon Secret Royal Inspector: The Child Who Serves the Sacred Village Tree.
Because the story was set in autumn, most of the exterior work had been scheduled for September onward, and this blistering stretch was given over to night shoots and interiors. As a result, the scenes being captured sat slightly off the spine of the main story — Yang Ho-gun's past, the villains conspiring among themselves, and the like.
"Thank you for your hard work, sunbae."
"You worked hard too."
The scene in which Yang Ho-gun informed King Jeongjo of his cousins' crimes had just wrapped. The senior actor playing Jeongjo patted Jo Yong-jin on the back, then praised him with something like surprise in his voice.
"Look at you, you little punk. You've grown a lot. Even starting conversations now. Proper leading-man material."
"Thank you."
"Your acting's improved a lot too, hasn't it? You said this was your first period piece. Finding the right tone couldn't have been easy."
"I practiced hard."
"That so? Then how about you and I grab a light drink, Actor Jo, and you tell me a few stories."
Even when his answers were short, Jo Yong-jin had been responding diligently — but now discomfort settled over his face. The senior actor dropped his voice.
"What. Scared Director Hong'll come down on you? You think I'd get you wasted? There's a quiet convenience store nearby. One can of beer each."
"The thing is... I was actually planning to go to Gangwon-do."
"What? Why would you... ah."
The senior actor's enthusiasm deflated.
Most of the confrontations between Yang Ho-gun and King Jeongjo were being shot on the indoor set in Seoul. Everything else would be filmed in Gangwon-do. And there wasn't a person on this production who didn't know what was being shot there today.
"Ah, well. There goes the drinking mood."
"I'm sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry for... Just don't go getting cowed or outshone. Don't forget — you're the protagonist of this film."
He had been at the table read too, so he had seen the child actress's skill with his own eyes. No one had ever told him his own acting was lacking, but that kid was so good you wouldn't even think of competing.
Watching Jo Yong-jin's face light up at the suggestion to go, and the way he hurried off, the senior actor thought, That's how he clawed his way into the lead. Me, I'll just stay a quality supporting player — thin and long.
An overwhelming genius had a way of kindling someone's passion — or of snuffing out whatever fire was left.
Jo Yong-jin reached Gangwon-do at dusk. The shrine house of Cheon-young, painstakingly dressed by the staff, caught the sunset and gave off an eerie, haunted air. For all the crew hurrying back and forth, the place somehow felt deserted.
"Actor Jo Yong-jin? Weren't you shooting in Seoul today?"
Assistant director Seo Ji-wook spotted him and called out. Jo Yong-jin answered, looking faintly embarrassed.
"I was curious about the scene being shot today... so I came to watch."
"Ah, I see. You should've come with the director. I don't think he knows you're here."
"He, well... he looked like he had a lot on his mind, so I couldn't quite bring myself to..."
Seo Ji-wook nodded as if he understood. Today was the day Lee Su-a's Cheon-young would be captured on camera for the first time. Hong Il-beom had come straight down to Gangwon-do the moment Seoul filming wrapped.
The reason they were running this hard from the first day of the shoot was to get as much in the can as possible during Lee Su-a's summer vacation.
Recalling the piercing look in Director Hong Il-beom's eyes as he had surveyed the location the instant he arrived, Seo Ji-wook gave a slight shiver.
"When does shooting start?"
"Any moment now... Ah, I'd better get going."
Checking the time, Seo Ji-wook hurried into the set. Jo Yong-jin carefully followed, staying out of the busy staff's way.
At the innermost heart of a spacious tiled-roof hanok lay a lavishly appointed chamber — a room so resplendent it overwhelmed anyone who stepped inside. At its center, seated bolt upright on a silk cushion, was Lee Su-a in shaman's robes of every color. Rather than being swallowed by the excess of ornament, she seemed to belong there, as if the space had been built around her.
But she's still Su-a.
Lee Su-a was speaking with Director Hong Il-beom, her face serious, but it didn't carry that feeling of Cheon-young the way it had at the table read. Jo Yong-jin wanted to know how such a transformation was even possible.
Behind Lee Su-a stood several actresses playing Il-yeong, and among them the most important — Il-yeong as Ji-suk, Ye Na-ri — stood immediately behind her to the left. Her expression looked good; she seemed ready to deliver a strong performance.
"Let's get ready, then."
Having finished speaking with Lee Su-a, Hong Il-beom stepped out of the frame. Spotting Jo Yong-jin, he didn't look surprised — just offered a light nod of greeting, as if he had known he would come.
Once every preparation was complete, the expression vanished from Lee Su-a's face in an instant. It was close to a perfect blank — and yet a fierce atmosphere seemed to bleed through, laying bare Cheon-young's sensitive, razor-edged nature.
The sight of her becoming an entirely different person through nothing more than a slight shift in the tension of her facial muscles was astonishing no matter how many times you watched it. It was possible because it wasn't only her expression that had changed — her breathing, the speed and frequency of her blinks, the way her eyes opened, the set of her shoulders and arms. But nobody caught those details.
Hong Il-beom checked the angle one last time.
"Ready—"
Within that frame, Cheon-young sat as though the receiving of her guests were already complete.
Women in identical clothes, identical braids trailing down their backs, identical smiles on their faces — even their features and frames were alike — bustled in and out of the shrine hall.
The man who had been directing and watching over them spotted his master bringing a guest, and waved the women aside with a gesture.
"You've arrived, Master."
"Baek-yeong. Are the preparations complete?"
"Yes. This way."
The shaman Hui-yeong and a guest who appeared to be a yangban followed Baek-yeong into the hall. The guest, wearing a horsehair gat and a wide-sleeved dopo, a fan held slightly before his face, stole sidelong glances at the lavish interior.
Hui-yeong explained, as if he would not know.
"Did you see the dangsan tree at the village entrance as you came in?"
"I did. Enormous thing."
"Legend has it that it has guarded this village for a thousand years. When that much time accumulates, even a mere plant comes to be imbued with divine spirit."
"Are you saying that tree is some kind of mountain god?"
"Heh. You find it hard to believe?"
Hui-yeong smiled, her eyes folding into long crescents. The guest fanned himself again and again, looking thoroughly put out.
"Even if you find it hard to believe, you came because you need that kind of power, did you not? If you truly wish to receive aid, there are several things you must observe inside the shrine."
Standing before the sliding paper doors guarded by warriors, Hui-yeong cautioned him in a stern voice.
"The one within is the one who serves the god of the dangsan tree. Having taken in a thousand years of divine power, they are as one with the god itself. Before that person, you must keep both body and mind in proper order."
"...I understand."
"Falsehoods will not avail you before them, so speak only what is true. Lower your guard and converse honestly, but do not lose your courtesy. And..."
"That's quite enough."
The guest, who had been slightly tense as Hui-yeong's words went on, cut her off with a snort of laughter.
"It's not as if I'm standing before the king. I'll decide for myself how much courtesy to show once I've seen them."
In an instant, Hui-yeong wiped every expression from her face and lifted only one corner of her mouth.
"Very well. As you wish."
At Hui-yeong's gesture, the warriors guarding the door opened it. The guest walked slowly inside.
The first thing he saw was a sacred hanging painting filling the wall directly opposite the door. Unlike an ordinary Buddhist taenghwa, it depicted not the Buddha but a tree. At a glance, it was the dangsan tree.
The room, gaudily adorned with five-colored threads and bells, comma-shaped jade jewels, fans, and more, was nothing like the shabby exterior. The guest found himself involuntarily cowed.
And in the very center of this room sat a child who looked as if she had been made for it. The lavish costume was so much a part of the chamber that there was no sense of something out of place — and so the guest noticed the child only belatedly.