Professor An Myeongjun and film director Joo Jungbin.
The two of them were serving as judges for the Free Short Film Festival competition.
They had each built solid careers and found success.
Even so, not even they could act freely in front of Ham Dongho.
Ham stood in a different position from them.
“By the way, did you hear the talk lately that Professor Ham is going to retire?”
“Oh, I heard that too. I think the rumor was he would step away from everything except his professorship.”
The two of them launched into talk about Ham Dongho.
They did not forget to continue judging the short films while they talked.
“From what I saw earlier, he still looks active. I do not know why he would retire.”
“He has already achieved so much. There is no particular reason to push for more. But the retirement talk started as a tabloid rumor, so it is not information we can trust.”
“True, since Professor Ham has not said it himself.”
At Joo Jungbin’s words, An Myeongjun nodded.
There had been some industry buzz that Ham would retire.
Yet the man himself had said nothing at all.
“In any case, the level of these works is all about the same.”
“Yes. To be honest, it is less about finding good pieces and more about finding the least bad ones.”
“Last year there were quite a few decent entries. This time it is a bust. Staff told us there were some good ones, so I had some hope, but it seems disappointment is unavoidable.”
“It cannot be helped. They are amateurs. If this is how it feels for us, imagine Professor Ham. His standards are sky high. He must be suffering more than we are.”
At that, Joo Jungbin nodded and sighed.
Even they could not find a solid work, so he worried what it must be like for Ham.
Ham’s standards were very high.
Not only because he had watched many works, but because he had made films himself, which raised his bar even higher.
There was much they had felt and learned while watching Ham’s films.
“Oh? He is over there with Professor Choi right now.”
“You are right. I think this is the first time I have seen those two together. What is going on?”
They rose from their seats and headed toward Ham, who was with Professor Choi.
Expecting Ham’s expression to be severe.
“…?”
Drawing near and seeing Ham’s face, they hesitated.
His expression was not what they had expected.
He looked dazed as he watched the screen, and within that daze his eyes were shining.
It was the first time they had seen that look on Ham’s face, and they could not help feeling flustered too.
What kind of work could provoke such a reaction?
They turned their attention to the short film Ham was watching.
“It has been a while since I felt this way.”
Staring at the screen, Ham found himself letting out a short laugh.
He was already on his fifth run through “Haru.”
Normally, he would be sick of something by now.
“This is interesting.”
The more he watched “Haru,” the more it gave him a new feeling.
Why was he feeling this way?
Because the direction was good?
Because the lighting was well used?
Because the sound and props were handled well?
Yes, those things played a part.
However, Ham’s eye was not only on direction and sound.
“I did not expect there to still be an actor like this.”
His gaze was fixed on the actor performing on screen.
The sight of the actor acting while wearing a white mask seized Ham’s attention at once.
—You are asking me to play hide-and-seek with you now, right?
—Alright. Then from now on we are playing hide-and-seek. I am it. If you are caught, that is the end. Got it?
On screen, Choi Deoksu took off his mask and spoke gently.
Within that gentle tone were excitement and delight that could not be hidden.
And a glimpse of the urge to commit murder.
“There are not many actors who can use emotion this well.”
Having met many actors, Ham could tell what kind of person an actor was just by watching them act.
The actor playing Choi Deoksu was exceptional.
Not merely because he acted well.
He was an actor who could analyze and understand the character.
He knew how to make the most of his strengths.
“He acts really well.”
“I know. Even to me, it is outstanding. The others here are recognizing it too. With acting like this, he should be fairly well known. Why does he feel unfamiliar?”
They tilted their heads as they watched Choi Deoksu.
The acting was very good.
Not merely by layman standards, but in a way that drew admiration even among people recognized within the industry.
“I have seen many actors, but this is the first time I have seen someone use the camera this well. From how he handles his gaze to how he uses lighting. He knows how to craft a good shot.”
“His understanding of the role is excellent too. Look at this bit where he opens the window and reaches out his hand. He shows the coexistence of excitement and composure brilliantly.”
“The director found exactly the right actor. Setting aside the direction, the acting itself is so strong. The scene partner is not bad either.”
Hearing the voices behind him, Ham nodded.
Before he knew it, all the judges had gathered around him.
“The actor’s performance is superb, but the director who captured that performance deserves praise as well. There is a bit of clumsiness, but he still clearly captured what he wanted to convey.”
Listening to the judges, Ham spoke about the director of “Haru.”
“I think this is a work where a good actor and a capable director met. It is a very strong piece.”
Ham stood with his arms crossed, staring at the screen.
He was someone who believed that no matter how well an actor performed, if the director could not direct, a proper work could not be made.
There were times when an overwhelmingly strong actor would swallow the director whole.
But the director of “Haru” was not overwhelmed by the actor’s force and properly captured what he wanted to show.
After observing the direction, Ham nodded in satisfaction for a moment.
Then his eyes returned to the actor’s performance.
“It is curious. He looks young, yet the way he acts is old-fashioned. As if he were someone who acted thirty or forty years ago.”
The techniques used in the performance of the actor playing Choi Deoksu were the sort used in the past.
From how he handled his gaze, to his vocal production, to the physical acting.
They were techniques hardly taught or used now, yet curiously, the man’s acting felt very natural.
“The end credits are rolling.”
“What is the actor’s name?”
“Directed by Kim Minseok. And the role of Choi Deoksu is… Han Seongtae?”
One of the judges tilted his head.
The acting was so good they assumed they would at least know the name.
Yet the name Han Seongtae felt very unfamiliar.
“We should look up his name.”
“Yes, it is strange that someone who can act like this is still unknown.”
“Who is he? I am really curious. Has he not shot anything?”
As the judges murmured, Ham stared fixedly at the names in the end credits.
[Director Kim Minseok / Choi Deoksoo Han Seongtae / Yoon Hee……]
After gazing at the names for a long while, he picked up his phone.
It was the moment when the face that had stayed dark throughout the judging finally brightened.
“Huff… huff…!”
Seongtae’s breathing grew ragged as he ran along the park path.
He was gasping like his heart might burst at any second, yet he did not stop midway.
[‘Founder of Jeet Kune Do’ says the more you train a person’s muscles, the stronger they become.]
[‘Founder of Jeet Kune Do’ urges you to keep moving, saying the exercise you are about to do is a critical moment for building your muscles.]
After his run he went straight into bodyweight work, and before long his body was drenched in sweat.
He followed the “Founder of Jeet Kune Do” as instructed and never stopped in the middle just because it was hard.
“Hey, hey. You are going to die at this rate. What kind of maniac works out like that?”
Hanging from the pull-up bar, Seongtae let go at the voice behind him.
“Whew…”
“Hey.”
A water bottle suddenly appeared in front of him as he caught his breath.
Looking up, he saw Kim Minseok, also sweating like Seongtae.
“Thanks.”
Taking the bottle, Seongtae grabbed a brief rest.
[‘The One Who Defined His Era’ worries you are overdoing it.]
[‘Founder of Jeet Kune Do’ tells you not to worry, saying he used to do two or three times that intensity.]
[‘The One with a Thousand Faces’ points out that comparing yourself to others is the problem to begin with.]
Smiling at the bickering messages from the gods of acting, Seongtae moved to start again.
“Hey, take it easy. You could really collapse.”
“I will not.”
“I am the one who is dying. Let us rest a bit more. Please?”
At Minseok’s earnest plea, Seongtae scratched his cheek and looked at him.
“I could just work out on my own.”
When Seongtae went out to train, Minseok insisted on joining him.
Whatever you are doing, I can do it too, and Minseok threw himself into matching Seongtae’s routine.
Seongtae might be used to this level, but for Minseok, who was new to training, it was anything but.
“He will not listen even when I try to talk him down.”
Even when Seongtae suggested they work out separately, Minseok was stubborn.
“A person needs to know how to rest a little. If you go home like this you will just look at scripts again.”
“Yeah.”
“Ugh. Sometimes I doubt you and I are the same species. You seem not to know how to rest.”
At his grumbling friend, Seongtae gave a small laugh and sat down.
Fine. For one day, he could take it a little easier.
“Then let us rest exactly five minutes, and then start again.”
“…Right. Just kill me. Kill me.”
Seongtae shrugged and lifted the water bottle.
Bzzzt!
Looking up at the sky, Seongtae dropped his gaze at the vibration in his pocket.
—Kim Mucheol: Seongtae, are you free this Friday? If you are, come by the set once.
A message from Kim Mucheol.
“Holy—!”
Right beside him came Minseok’s startled voice.
“I… I…”
Unable to finish his sentence, Minseok held out his phone, and Seongtae’s expression turned curious when he saw the screen.
[Congratulations on your award at the Free Short Film Festival.]
An email with the judging result for “Haru.”
A winners list was visible, and within it the name “Haru” was proudly recorded.
“Congratulations.”
At Seongtae’s words, Minseok nodded blankly.
Watching him, Seongtae glanced again at Kim Mucheol’s message and then moved his fingers.
It felt like he had taken another step up the staircase toward success.
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