The Role of a Lifetime
Jo Yong-jin, Bae Su-chan, Ye Na-ri. And Lee Su-a. Heard one after another, the names didn't carry much weight. After the casting was announced, a handful of journalists had even written that the lineup was unworthy of Director Hong Il-beom's reputation.
There were doubters among the on-set crew, too.
But now, on the set where those four had gathered, the air itself was packed dense with acting.
"So the legend was all… a lie?"
"Yes. How could a human live more than two hundred years? Cheon-yeong is just over ten now."
"Haha. All the better, then. One less thing to worry about — we won't have to fear the spirit's wrath."
Bae Su-chan and Ye Na-ri slipped in and out of the exchange with a rhythm that landed just right, and Jo Yong-jin — playing a character nothing like himself, in his first leading role — delivered a performance that never once wavered.
Yang Ho-gun, in particular, was a role that looked light at a glance but carried a heavy past. To make him compelling, you had to find the precise balance of weight, and Jo Yong-jin had found it exactly.
They'd all been practicing together lately. What had been a chemistry that was neither good nor bad now felt indistinguishable from perfect.
Director Hong Il-beom shot the scene — a long run of unbroken dialogue — without a single cut. It wasn't easy. The actors threw themselves into it anyway.
"More to the point — how do you plan to summon the constables?"
And then came the masterstroke: Lee Su-a. The instant Cheon-yeong opened her mouth, every person on that set — crew and cast alike — turned to look at her. The heat in the air subsided all at once, settling at precisely the right temperature.
The actors were only following the stage directions. That the crew's eyes had been captured too was another matter. Park Min-hyuk found it endlessly strange, how a single unremarkable line could pull with that kind of gravity.
"Even riding hard to the post station would take more than a day. And to mobilize the constables, you'd need a mapae, wouldn't you?"
"Ordinarily, yes. But I sent word to the magistrate's office before we arrived, so anyone can go in our place."
"Wait — when did you send word?"
"Come now, Brother Kang. Did you truly think His Majesty would send only you and me to a mountain village like this? He commanded that troops be ready to mobilize the moment the cipher is presented."
"…Don't tell me that envelope wasn't a bribe?"
"Hahaha!"
"Keep your voice down. So all we need is to send someone. It'll take a full day to reach the government office — we should hurry."
"Ahem. Indeed. Ideally, someone who knows how to ride."
From a corner outside the full-shot camera's frame, another camera chased the rapid-fire dialogue, closing in on each speaker in turn. The lens that had been darting among the four gradually settled into an alternation between just two.
"Il-yeong and I cannot leave our posts, and you have work of your own — what about sending your brother?"
"I'd like that, but I can't make the preparations alone. I'll need Brother Kang's strength."
"Then we'll have to send someone else. But it can't be just anyone… We need a person who can ride, and who won't betray us."
"A noble would be even better. A man of rank would have an easier time getting into the government office than a commoner."
"Hmm. A noble staying in this village, who hasn't fallen for the cult's doctrine, who we can trust to keep a secret, and who knows how to ride…"
The camera that had been cutting rapidly between Cheon-yeong and Yang Ho-gun caught the hitch in her face, then panned slowly to him. He was wearing the exact same expression.
In the full shot, Kang Geon-bok and Ji-suk stared blankly from one to the other. In a single frame, it was obvious: only Yang Ho-gun and Cheon-yeong had thought of the same person.
"Cut!"
Director Hong Il-beom threw out an okay with a look of deep satisfaction. He ran the footage back a few times, shot one or two additional angles, and wrapped the scene.
The next scene began with Park Min-hyuk.
"T-t-t-treason, you saaaaay?!"
"Shhhh!"
Kang Geon-bok and Ji-suk clamped their hands over Jo Yeon-il's mouth. Park Min-hyuk's eyes bulged wide enough to hurt, his pupils darting wildly.
In the story, Jo Yeon-il was the pinch of comic seasoning that kept a grave situation — treason, no less — from growing too heavy. His own sins meant his ending wouldn't be a kind one, but he was useful in his way.
Which was to say, he fit the conditions Yang Ho-gun and Cheon-yeong had just described to the letter.
"Listen here, Master Jo. Do you have any idea what you've gotten yourself mixed up in?"
Yang Ho-gun sauntered over with a swaggering gait and slung an arm around Jo Yeon-il's shoulders. Ji-suk stared at him as if he'd lost his mind; Kang Geon-bok waved her off, as if to say don't worry about it.
Yang Ho-gun paid neither of them any mind. He leaned in and whispered in a voice gone sly and dark.
"One wrong move and you'll be hauled in for treason."
"I-I never—!"
"Ah, but you did offer quite a fortune as the ritual fee, didn't you? And every last bit of it went to buying grain for the rebels and weapons to arm them. You're in the same boat as the traitors now — no wriggling out of it."
A smile so vile you had to wonder if this was really the protagonist spread across Yang Ho-gun's face as he clicked his tongue in mock pity.
"Hp—"
"Khf."
Off-camera, Ye Na-ri and Bae Su-chan were fighting for their lives not to laugh. It was acting, but he was so unlike his usual self it was jarring. No matter how many times they saw it, they couldn't get used to it — and it was hilarious.
Park Min-hyuk was fighting the same battle, clinging to Jo Yeon-il's lines with everything he had.
"Th-this is unjust! I was only showing my gratitude to the Divine Maiden! How was I to know what that shaman witch and that baksu bastard were doing behind my back?!"
"Regrettably, I doubt His Majesty will take that into consideration."
"No, w-wait…"
Jo Yong-jin's face — so nauseatingly, magnificently sorry for him — pushed Park Min-hyuk to the brink. He jerked his head away, improvising a woeful, restless squirm, but the laugh was going to burst out of him any second.
Ah, seriously, Yong-jin! Why did your acting have to get this good!
He was about to give up and just laugh it out, blaming Jo Yong-jin for working too hard, when his gaze snagged on Lee Su-a. Everyone else was bracing for an NG, ready to break — but Su-a alone still wore Cheon-yeong's face. Even though she wasn't in the frame.
The line left Park Min-hyuk's mouth before he knew he'd spoken it.
"Divine Maiden… am I truly to be branded a traitor and put to death?"
Off-camera, Cheon-yeong shook her head.
"It isn't hopeless. Not if you have the courage to stake your life on it."
"Cut!"
"Whoa…"
Park Min-hyuk looked straight at me, marveling without the slightest attempt to hide it. The laughter everyone had been holding crashed out all at once, and the director called NG.
I was this close to getting a feel for it…
I filed Park Min-hyuk's reaction away with care.
He started apologizing to the cast and crew without even knowing what had happened.
"Aigoo, I'm sorry. Yong-jin was so funny I nearly lost it. If it weren't for Su-a, I'd have been laughing for ages."
"Ah, I'm so sorry for jumping in! I didn't mean to, I just…"
"No, no! Don't you apologize! This NG is on me! Hey! Making-of PD! You've got to cut that!"
The moment I apologized for the ad-lib I'd thrown in on my own, Park Min-hyuk waved me off hard. They laughed themselves out, and then filming resumed. This time, they got the okay on the first take.
Still not quite there.
I'd been working at it in my own way ever since the incident with Bae Su-chan, trying to solve the NG problem. I knew by now that other actors over-immersed when I was around. What I didn't know was why, which made it hard to fix.
I did have a hunch, though.
The character and I are too well-matched.
What you'd call a role of a lifetime, I suppose. Cheon-yeong and I had a great deal in common, in more ways than one. That was why focusing had been easier than with any other part I'd played — and my theory was that the other actors, swept up in me, had started concentrating too hard themselves.
I understood why Director Hong Il-beom was letting it be. There was no reason to drag the overall quality of the acting down to some lower common denominator. For all I knew, he didn't think it needed fixing at all.
But there's no guarantee this won't happen again. And next time, the director might not be someone like Hong Il-beom.
Practicing separately with the other actors had cut down on the NGs, but the root cause hadn't moved an inch. So I was trying to fix it on my own. I hadn't even gotten a proper feel for it yet.
Stopping my immersion from transferring to other people was harder than I'd expected. It was a problem that happened to someone else, not to me — could I even stop it?
I sat in a chair and killed time, turning it over in my head this way and that. It wasn't my turn to shoot yet, so I had plenty of room to think.
"Here, Kang Geon-bok would—"
"Then Yang Ho-gun goes like this…"
Just before they went in for the next scene, Bae Su-chan and Jo Yong-jin talking caught my eye.