Chapter 141
Chapter 141
The world is very interested in me.
‘This place…’
The room was both unfamiliar and familiar, like the one he had when he still lived in his grandfather’s mansion. In this memory, Yu Yeon-seo hugged his knees, his head bowed, as he recalled the voices from school earlier that day.
(That’s him.)
(Who? Oh… him?)
His family knew he would have a fit if he heard his biological mother’s name. So, no one in the mansion ever uttered it. They didn’t even allow him to show any interest in her.
(But he looks fine?)
(Shh, be quiet.)
But there was no stopping the kids. We live in an age where a simple internet search reveals a trove of information. Although they didn’t say her name outright, he could tell from the atmosphere and their tone. And it wasn’t just a couple of them.
As soon as the thought struck him, he shot up and turned on the computer. The youthful face and school uniform reflected in the monitor suggested he was probably in middle school.
-The late Lee Hui-seo’s legendary acting in her lifetime.avi
-A true legend, still said that no actress has surpassed her.swf
└Who would be her equivalent today?
└└She’s considered irreplaceable.
└Stunningly beautifulㄷㄷㄷㄷㄷ
└My dad was a huge fan.
└I don’t really know, was she that famous?
└└Super famous. How can you not know Lee Hui-seo-_-?
└└└They might not know if they’re youngㅋ
└I miss her~~ Happy Farewell
After looking up information about her for a while, Yu Yeon-seo lifted his head. That bothersome figure above the monitor. Yu Yeon-seo stared at it for a few seconds before speaking.
“…Why did you do it.”
Weren’t my brother and I enough to keep you in this world?
<Random Memory Synchronization Complete, Synchronization Rate 59.12%>
“Ugh…”
Back in reality, Yu Yeon-seo clutched his throbbing head and headed to the bathroom. That was a time when he had temporarily lost his memory and didn’t know the full story. So he believed that Lee Hui-seo had abandoned him and left the world.
“Ah… I feel like I’m dying.”
The problem was, memories like this had a greater physical toll than usual. He ended up splashing water on himself before lying down on the bed.
‘Is it the script’s influence…’
Right beside him was Director Kim Jae-ho’s script for ‘Filicide’. After meeting in Busan, they had managed to sign the contract after several rounds of negotiations. Park Seung-hwan had started a diet to achieve the frail body of an old man, while Yu Yeon-seo had entrusted important matters to Cha Yun-ho and was slowly dissecting the script.
‘The director said he wanted to try something new.’
He was a director whose films had drawn over ten million viewers. A director that popular had now conceived an entirely new kind of work. To be honest, it felt like something the critics would love.
Which meant it would be hard to expect it to be a box office hit. Some might say the director’s change in style meant he’d entered a pretentious art-house phase, but he liked it. He had to try things like this. But…
“This is difficult.”
Honestly, no role was ever easy. But this one was a particular gamble.
The premise of Director Kim Jae-ho’s film was: if an adult plans a suicide pact with a young child who doesn’t even understand death, can it truly be called a joint suicide?
The role of the grandson he would play, Hwang Min-jae, represented the ‘child’ in this scenario. What if such a child survived? Or what if that child was nineteen, on the cusp of adulthood and able to clearly express their own will? How would they have acted? Would they have resented their parents? Or would they have tried to hold on?
In the story, Hwang Min-jae clings to his only remaining family member, his grandfather Hwang Dae-sik, until the very end. Which means…
‘I’ll have to constantly expend emotional energy.’
It wouldn’t be easy. He sighed.
“You said you’d visit often, so why the long absence?”
“I’ve been busy with work.”
Director Cheon Seong-min greeted Yu Yeon-seo, who had visited the set after a long time, with a sullen expression.
“Busy, you say? Busy looking for your next project? Are you really joining that fellow Jae-ho’s film?”
“The world is very interested in me, isn’t it?”
To think it was already in the news. On his way to the set, Yu Yeon-seo had received calls from acquaintances. An article had already been published, somehow leaked, stating that he would be in the next film by the ten-million-viewer director, Kim Jae-ho.
(CEO Han) Hey, what’s this article?
(CEO Han) Why wouldn’t you tell me about something this important?
The problem was that he’d been so engrossed in the script after returning from Busan that he hadn’t even told his CEO.
“Since you won’t cast me, Director, I have to find other projects.”
“Haha, honestly. You’ve gotten quite bold.”
Yu Yeon-seo chuckled softly. He pulled over the chair that Im Seung-hyeon had thoughtfully brought and sat down next to Director Cheon.
An investor showing up on set frequently could be seen as putting pressure on the production. Director Cheon had thought Yu Yeon-seo’s infrequent visits were out of consideration for him.
“You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me. Come by often. I’m not the type to be bothered by your presence, am I?”
“Of course not. I was actually planning to come more often from now on.”
“Something’s troubling you, isn’t it? Is it about acting?”
He nodded silently. Expecting him to open up eventually, Director Cheon watched a flock of birds flying by. Today’s filming location was a tidal flat.
“How’s the assistant director?”
“Very helpful. I wonder who I have to thank for that.”
“Of course. Considering how much he costs.”
The talented assistant director, mostly chosen by Cha Yun-ho, had been creating efficient schedules without being told and had expertly found filming locations that matched Director Cheon’s vision.
“You know Director Lee Jeong-hun is debuting early next year, right?”
“That soon?”
“Yes. He films quickly. Maybe he learned that from you?”
“If he learned from me, he’d be slow. That’s all his own talent.”
True, Director Cheon was famous for his long shoots. Just then, staff and actors were getting coffee from the truck Yu Yeon-seo had sent.
“Ah, here come our actors. Care to talk to them?”
“Should I?”
Yu Yeon-seo stood up from his seat.
“Oh? Yeon-seo!”
“Min-a. It’s been a while.”
Hong Min-a, whom he had met on ‘Demon,’ was the female lead.
“Hello. Thank you for the coffee.”
And the actor who had been performing a monologue alone at Jeong Hyeon-sik’s theater troupe was the male lead. He introduced himself as Lee Min-jun and extended his hand to Yu Yeon-seo.
“How’s the filming going?”
He shook his hand and asked the two actors. Hong Min-a narrowed her eyes.
“Is that a question from a fellow actor, or from an executive?”
“Both.”
As soon as he answered, both actors sighed.
“The director is too spontaneous.”
“Really? You have a script, don’t you?”
How can he be spontaneous when there’s a script? Yu Yeon-seo had even seen it himself. Though he’d put it aside, thinking he couldn’t yet grasp its level of artistry.
“What good is the script? He comes to the set, suddenly gets ‘inspired,‘ sits down to write, and then says, ‘Let’s shoot this today.’”
“I’ve even received script pages scribbled on the back of a receipt.”
“Wow, that’s a bit much.”
Well, Director Cheon Seong-min was so beloved by France that he was nicknamed the ‘Emperor of Cannes.’ They tended to favor films that were a series of coincidences and improvisations that somehow made sense. Quiet, without a clear plot structure—art in itself. A sophistication born from chance.
“So the characters could change completely?”
“I shouldn’t have even looked at the script when I got it. All that research for nothing…”
Directors of this style often embedded a sense of resistance against films made with traditional production companies. They completed their films by shooting spontaneously, ignoring the established procedures of the film industry.
But Director Cheon Seong-min acted by wasting the capital of the establishment while working with a production company. And that contradiction captivated the hearts of film festival judges.
“Still, there’s a lot to learn. Especially emotional acting.”
“That’s right. There are a lot of scenes with back-and-forth dialogue…”
They seemed a bit embarrassed for complaining so much, and their attempt to salvage the conversation was somewhat pitiful.
Right, the emotional acting. That’s why he came here.
“Besides, I smile in my sleep just thinking about the dress I’ll wear to Cannes.”
“You’re preparing already?”
“I’m not dreaming of winning an award, but how many chances do you get to go?”
The advantage of award-sweeping films like Director Cheon’s, despite their lack of popular appeal, was that they could stimulate the spending of the bourgeoisie and attract investment in art films.
That’s why the investors’ meeting had welcomed Director Cheon’s return. It was a sophisticated hobby for the bourgeoisie. And Yu Yeon-seo, who happened to be thirsty for an award, had taken the bait. But after hearing their stories…
“So, did you observe enough to steal what you needed?”
“Well…”
He was beginning to think he should reconsider joining Director Cheon’s project… After listening to the two—or more accurately, to Hong Min-a’s complaints—for a while, Yu Yeon-seo returned to Director Cheon’s side.
And he watched the two actors’ performances through the monitor.
“What do you think?”
“I’m not sure.”
He didn’t know their characters’ backgrounds or the context of the preceding scene. However, he listened intently to Director Cheon’s advice to the actors who came to check the monitor.
“You said it before, right? That acting by mixing in your own experiences is incredibly stressful.”
“I did.”
“I feel like that experience keeps holding me back.”
Director Cheon waved his hand, gesturing for him to continue.
“I manage to create a character and sort of confine it within me, but when a situation in the story resembles my own experience, I feel like I’m being consumed by it.”
It happened with ‘The Imperial Seal’. He equated the death of a parent-like figure with Lee Hui-seo’s, and the eunuch and the current emperor with her killer and the ‘mastermind’. He’d almost harmed his co-star with seething murderous intent.
If that scene had involved repeatedly punching someone instead of firing a prop gun, he couldn’t guarantee what would have happened to the other actor.
“How was your acting then?”
“Actually… the immersion was perfect. To the point where I felt like the camera was breathing with me… The result was an ‘okay’ without even needing to check the monitor.”
“So it was helpful for the acting, for the film?”
Yu Yeon-seo nodded. Director Cheon stroked the tip of his chin, his gaze still fixed on the monitor.
“Why is being consumed a bad thing? Just use the experience. Identify yourself with the character. Let yourself go with the flow. So much so that you can’t think of anything else.”
“But you said it’s incredibly stressful?”
“I said it’s very stressful, not that it’s the wrong method.”
I guess he did say that… Yu Yeon-seo stared blankly at Director Cheon.
“It’s a burden because you perceive it as stress.”
Well… it actually does cause psychological damage. Like getting nosebleeds and coughing up blood. He couldn’t say that, so he just gave a soulless laugh.
“What I’m saying is, approach it from a different perspective. Is it really a burden? Or are you just mistaken in thinking it’s a burden?”
“That’s very… philosophical of you.”
“The truth is, I don’t know your full situation, do I? That’s why I’m just saying things that sound profound.”
He still wasn’t sure. Then again, Yu Yeon-seo hadn’t told him everything, so Director Cheon was probably giving abstract advice.
“Anyway, try living it like that… and if you feel like you’re being consumed and can’t get out, get help from someone else. Isn’t your specialty easily immersing yourself and then snapping out of it?”
“Someone else?”
“You have a manager, don’t you? And that dark-suited assistant over there. Set up a trigger to pull you back to reality after you finish acting—ring a bell, whistle, something.”
You’re not the type to care about saving face, are you? he muttered. True, my image has gotten too good lately. Maybe I need to do something bizarre like this to tone it down a bit?
“I knew it was a good idea to come see you, Director.”
“Is that so? Did I live up to your investment?”
“Yes.”
Assuming this works, of course. The emotions I held in the past were more venomous than I thought. That must be why I see and hear things.
Huh? Come to think of it, it’s ‘me’ now?
He no longer thought of himself as separate from his original body. If so, maybe it was possible to merge himself with a character, too?