Kwak Yeonji broke into a sheepish grin, as if pleased with the performance where she offered up her cheek.
“Hurry up and get that cheek calmed down. Doesn’t it hurt?”
Seeing her swollen cheek, I wondered if I should’ve stopped it harder.
But once I looked at the footage, Yeonji’s acting shone even more.
Her gaze on screen had grown fiercer, and the cheek that flushed red right after the slap looked truly, incredibly painful.
Yet there was no trace of pain in her expression as captured by the camera.
It’s human instinct for your hand to go naturally to the spot that hurts.
But Yeonji overcame even that instinct; instead of reaching for her reddened cheek, her hand braced on the floor and she sprang straight to her feet.
The way she looked gave off a rather grim, resolute feeling.
We ended the moment on a close-up of her face, the skin beneath her eyes faintly twitching as if seized by madness.
Humiliation and contempt. And the vengeance born of them.
Of course, there will be audience members who think, “Just one slap, and you’re going to destroy someone’s life?”
But if you looked into Yeonji’s eyes, you’d nod even if she strangled Junsik to death on the spot.
That’s how much her performance breathed life into the places where Lee Sohee’s backstory was lacking.
“It’s totally good. Right? This is it. Doesn’t it feel way more natural?”
“It does… thanks.”
“For what?”
At my words, Yeonji rubbed her cheek with the ice pack and asked back.
As her cheek started turning more and more bluish-purple, the guilt in me grew.
Even if it was her choice to take a real slap instead of faking it, I was the one who ultimately approved it.
“Thanks to you, the atmosphere really came alive.”
“Oh, come on. It’s business. Business. Hehe. It’s better if we both do well. You said you’d make me a success, right? Then I should at least do this much for you! If I succeed, what’s a cheek? I can take one on the other side too!”
Maybe she read the apology on my face. She smiled even brighter and deliberately raised her voice.
“Sunbae. Getting slapped is nothing. Just not playing some giggly role next to the lead already makes me feel like I’m really acting, you know? I’m seriously fine.”
“…”
“C’mon! Let’s do this with a smile, yeah? I’m the one who got slapped. Why are you the one with the long face!”
She put on a playful, annoyed act at me.
“I’ll make sure you succeed. As soon as we wrap this project, I’ll make it so people everywhere are asking only for you. Get ready to be busy.”
A problem cropped up in what had been smooth sailing up to now.
It was a scene centered on Junsik, based on an experience Junseong had told me about.
Villain Kim Sangcheol—the role Junsik-hyung plays—and his buddies, laughing aloud while drinking in a room salon.
Their dialogue in this scene revolved around crimes like draft-dodging, tax evasion, and the like.
And there was a supporting actor who gets pushed around.
The moment he sees the in-story villain, that supporting character has to bow, and when the villain throws fruit scraps at him, he has to say thank you and eat them.
This supporting character is the one who joins forces with Lee Sohee to bring the villain down.
But because the supporting actor couldn’t quite perform the being-abused beats, time started slipping away.
“NG!”
At my shout, the surrounding staff looked at me like, what’s wrong?
“Wasn’t that fine…?”
“Yeah, what’s the problem?”
The crew murmured.
I gave the supporting actor direction again, but he didn’t seem to absorb it; he kept giving the same repeated performance.
“Whew… I’m going to lose it.”
Maybe because we’d been looping it, even Jinsu-hyung at my side ventured carefully,
“Isn’t this level of acting okay? It doesn’t feel awkward to me…”
“No. That’s not what I want.”
We rolled again, and it did get a little better, but it still wasn’t enough.
As I was thinking about what to do, I heard Yeonji’s voice behind me.
“Oppa, what’s wrong all of a sudden?”
“N-no, it’s nothing…”
Go Sangwoo, maybe stirred by the emotions of the scene we’d just shot, was in tears.
“I’ll just run to the bathroom. Haha… sorry. Oh man, tears out of nowhere… haha…”
It wasn’t even a sad scene; I found it strange to see him crying, but I didn’t have the leeway to focus on it.
I gave the problem supporting actor more detailed direction, but it still didn’t take.
“NG! Let’s take a short break and go again.”
A deep sigh escaped me.
It was an interior shoot, so time wasn’t a huge issue, but I didn’t want to push this to tomorrow. I needed to finish today’s quota quickly…
Maybe my sigh got to her—Yeonji, behind me, watched my face and spoke.
“Sunbae…?”
“Mm?”
Next to Yeonji, Go Sangwoo stood awkwardly with his hands politely clasped.
“If it’s not rude, my manager oppa is asking if maybe he could talk to that actor?”
“Huh?”
“He says he’s actually experienced something like that himself. He wants to share the feelings he had…”
“…”
When people speak from personal experience, it can produce an effect on a different level from direction.
Even though I created the character, the exact emotions in that situation can only be described in words and there are limits to what language can express of human feeling.
That’s why sometimes, more than the writer, the actors who are immersed in the role understand the character they’re playing in more detail.
If so, advice from Go Sangwoo, who’s actually gone through that situation, might help more.
But he’s experienced that…?
“Hm… then could you help us out?”
I said, and Go Sangwoo answered with a bright smile.
“It’s an honor, Director!”
He gave me a deep bow, then went over to the supporting actor.
At first the actor looked startled, but as he talked with Go Sangwoo, his expression gradually brightened.
He nodded, as if he’d grasped the exact emotion.
I didn’t know what was said, but confidence filled his face.
“Let’s try it again!”
When we started shooting, unlike the previous takes, the supporting actor seemed completely immersed in the role.
It wasn’t quite the feel I’d wanted, but it was a much more realistic performance than before.
“Cut! That’s good!”
The nearby staff, surprised at how much more natural it was, offered praise to the supporting actor, who’d been struggling.
But what did he do to make such a sudden change?
Thinking it might be useful later when direction wasn’t landing, I asked Go Sangwoo—his eyes still a little dewy—what he’d said.
“What did you tell that actor?”
“Ah, I just told an old story of mine. Haha…”
“Would you tell me, too?”
“Uh… yes. It won’t be interesting, though…”
“It’s fine. I’d like to hear it.”
His story, something that could help with the supporting actor’s performance, felt familiar somehow.
Like I’d heard it somewhere…
A family ruined during the IMF crisis. The job he chose to survive somehow was manager.
And I learned only now that he and Junseong had been friends in the past.
After hearing all that, when I looked at his face, that “I’ve seen him somewhere” feeling from our first meeting came back to life.
“Uh… could you take off your glasses for a moment?”
“Pardon?”
He looked flustered at the sudden request.
“Ah, if it’s too much to ask…”
“Come on, what’s so much to ask about taking off glasses.”
When he took off those tacky frames, I finally knew for sure who he was.
“Uh… haha.”
“…?”
The name of the man in my memory wasn’t Go Sangwoo—it was Go Jinhun.
I didn’t know why his name now was Go Sangwoo, but he was someone who would later become the head of a giant entertainment company.
He’d put on a lot more weight than in my memory, and his shabby look made a wry laugh escape me.
Even that man who’d seemed so imposing had a past like this…
“If it’s alright, may I put my glasses back on…? My eyesight’s bad…”
“Ah, sure.”
He put the tacky glasses back on and gave an awkward smile.
He isn’t just some manager. He’s the future CEO of “GO Entertainment,” doing business not just in Korea’s entertainment industry but on the world stage.
“GO Entertainment,” which he founded, was famous not only for its size but for its good image.
Whenever big dirty scandals broke in the industry, his famous quote would be spotlighted again along with them.
“We are people who work for the enjoyment of the public. Nothing more, nothing less. Any of our artists found involved in impure acts will never again stand before the public bearing the name ‘GO Entertainment.’”
He never once broke those words.
If they committed crimes like drunk driving or drugs, even star actors were cut off at the root and kicked out.
In exchange, he took care of his actors that much more, raising the ones on his roster with full support.
Thanks to that, he built the agency everyone wanted to join: from aspiring actors to Korea’s already hotshot stars.
But it wasn’t just a company strong on the acting side.
Whatever instinct he had, every entertainment venture he touched was a smash hit.
Idols, MCs, entertainers, you name it.
You could say most of the people at the top of each field were results that Go Jinhun made.
He was also the one who recognized the power of YouTube early and swiftly shifted focus to YouTube over TV, hailed as a trailblazer.
I couldn’t believe a person like that was standing in front of me like this.
“Let’s grab a meal sometime… no…”
“Pardon?”
Thrown by my sudden talk of a meal, he asked again.
“A meal?”
“Ah, yes. Once we’ve fully wrapped the film, let’s have a meal with Junseong.”
“For me, that’d be an honor. Haha…”
“Let’s lock it in for sure. We’ll talk again when the shoot is over. This isn’t empty talk.”
“Sorry? Ah… yes.”
Go Sangwoo scratched the back of his head and answered awkwardly, looking a bit flustered.
The things we could do through him were endless.
Even if I can spot actors who’ll do well, if there’s no foundation to raise them right, they might not grow as much as I know they could.
I’m just a director. I don’t know the ins and outs of managing celebrities.
But the person who could solve that problem in one stroke was right beside me.
Looking at the awkwardly smiling Go Sangwoo, a field of flowers bloomed in my head.
If Go Sangwoo polished the actors who succeeded through my films into Hallyu stars, and then we made films again leveraging those Hallyu stars…?
It could be a huge help when targeting North America…
“Um… sunbae?”
Beside Go Sangwoo, Yeonji looked at my expression and asked, worried.
“You’re okay, right? Your face right now… you look like someone under a spell…”
“Huh…? Heh. I’m just really happy… The shoot went great, didn’t it? Haha.”
At my words, Yeonji knit her brows slightly and looked at me like I was weird.
So what?
I just picked up a gold nugget!
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