Kim Eulhong.
A genius born in Korea but abandoned by Korea, who then abandoned Korea in return.
A black mark in Korean film history that the industry wanted to forget.
She was a genius with many enemies who eventually followed her husband and became a naturalized U.S. citizen because she couldn’t endure living in Korea.
And then she swept the awards…
In the United States, she swept famous film festivals, starting with the Golden Globe Awards.
The Korean media tried to ignore her, but they couldn’t hide Eulhong from the public, who got their information from the internet.
Even that didn’t work, so later they called her a traitor and tried to make her out to be a bad person. But as time passes, things like this happen…
Eulhong was an outstanding director, screenwriter, and musician.
She mainly wrote and produced musical films, which, by their very nature, required basic instrumental skills and singing ability from the actors.
For parts requiring professional skills, it couldn’t be avoided.
But if an actor needed a double even for simple parts, there was no reason to use them.
This work is also an example of Director Eulhong’s signature musical films…
Suhyeon’s eyes sparkled as he read the summarized content.
He liked that the director was Kim Eulhong and that it was closer to a commercial film than an art film, but more than anything, he liked that the story centered around child actors.
The age range of five to fifteen means they will adjust parts of the story to fit the lead, right? So, my rival will ultimately be around middle school age.
Unlike the two dramas that had clearly defined roles, the film’s proposal was more like an audition notice.
The chances were high that someone more mature than his mere five years would be chosen as the lead, and there were many other obstacles too.[1]
However, Suhyeon was attracted to her work despite the many unfavorable conditions.
Since it was a work he had never heard of from the future, it might fail at the box office, but he liked it regardless.
The good thing about being this age is that failure doesn’t feel like failure.
Suhyeon took out only the audition material and tapped the stiff paper.
He couldn’t wait to read the story in the script instead of just the synopsis.
* * *
“Your face looks particularly serious today, Mr. Actor.”
Sangil looked at Suhyeon, puzzled.
Swollen eyes, cheeks bruised blue, disheveled hair…
Even knowing it was makeup, Suhyeon’s appearance today was so wretched and realistic it was worrying.
“Noona put in a lot of effort.”
“Oh, now I remember, this was the part added in the revised script.”
At his casual remark as if he had just remembered, Suhyeon nodded.
The PD had seen Suhyeon’s ad-lib at the convenience store and adjusted “Yeonwu’s” lines and actions while maintaining the story’s original flow.
Although they said it was “to show the protagonist’s emotional growth,” it seemed like a setup to include the scene they were filming today.
Jiyoon made a fuss about this for a while…
To add content within the limited 16-episode frame, some original scenes had to be cut.
The PD didn’t touch the main storyline, so naturally, as the lead characters’ stories increased, the supporting characters’ parts were reduced.
In particular, the role of “Chaeun,” who was there to add some comic relief to the drama, was significantly cut.
Emphasizing the teacher-student relationship made her role less necessary, so it couldn’t be helped.
“Chaeun’s” story balanced the drama so it wouldn’t get too dark.
Naturally, with the focus shifting to “Yeonwu’s” growth, “Chaeun’s” importance decreased.
By the way, is that scene airing this week?
Pushing aside the memory of Jiyoon grumbling about her reduced role, Suhyeon recalled the scene they filmed recently.
“Yeonwu,” despite making friends and finding affection, didn’t see his situation improve.
The child was still abused, and the intensity only grew worse.
And eventually, after losing her temper, “Seohui” hit “Yeonwu” on the head, and he collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.
The scene we need to shoot later is where Yeonwu, who collapsed, wakes up and moves in the factory. I’m not sure how it’ll be edited, but the footage looked pretty good at the time… I wonder if the viewers will think I died. Ugh, I’m curious.
Although some of the minor details were changed, Praise followed the major arc of the Seongsu-dong incident that inspired it.
It was designed to make the viewers suspect a bad ending, making them believe the protagonist would die just like the real victims.
It was a setup for a twist.
In the end, I don’t die, though.
The fact that PD Bongchun accepted Suhyeon’s ad-lib and added “Yeonwu’s” mental growth was because the protagonist “Yeonwu” survived, unlike the real-life incident.
Moreover, unlike the passive “Yeonwu” before the revision, the revised “Yeonwu” actively tried to escape the factory to survive.
But wouldn’t it be more common to be buried somewhere in the mountains than in a factory? It’s convenient for me because there’s less dirt, though…
Continuing his idle thoughts, Suhyeon looked around the set as the call time was unusually delayed today.
Although it was clear they were ready, the staff just glanced at him and the script on his lap without approaching.
What’s going on…?
Normally, they would have approached first and urged him on, but they only watched cautiously today.
As Suhyeon was bewildered by the strange situation, he soon realized the reason and blinked his large eyes.
Today’s shoot was a solo shoot for Suhyeon.
There was only one actor, and there were no other filming schedules.
In other words, the faster Suhyeon finished without any NGs, the sooner everyone else’s schedule would end.
No matter how mature I act, I’m still only six years old… Children’s acting can easily change depending on emotions or tension…
If he had been an adult actor, he wouldn’t have received this kind of consideration.
However, Suhyeon was young, and the staff were careful not to let the young boy feel pressured and make mistakes.
It was a considerate act, even if it was based on the assumption that he might lack professional awareness.
Unless it takes too long, they’ll probably give me some leeway. Wow, this feels like being a top star.
Suhyeon didn’t find their excessive caution unpleasant.
Rather, he shivered with excitement at the secret special treatment.
Even after signing a contract, only a very few actors, known as the absolute top, would always receive such treatment regardless of the work’s quality.
Suhyeon became a bit more ambitious in this world he tasted by chance.
And he felt more motivated.
“Director!”
“Oh, the makeup is well done. Are you all set? Today, actions and expressions are more important than lines, you know that, right?”
“Yes!”
“Have you practiced all the actions?”
“Yes!”
Putting the script down on the chair, Suhyeon ran over to the PD and looked at him with bright, eager eyes.
Even though the overseas licensing deal was nearly finalized, the quality of the work remained crucial.
A skilled person who would make Praise a perfect well-made drama.
A golden thread that would help Suhyeon, still a child actor, rise to the status of a Hallyu star.
When he thought about it that way, PD Lee Bongchun seemed to sparkle more than usual today.
“Today’s makeup uses special dye, so you can move a bit roughly if you need to. Go ahead and try.”
“Yes.”
“But don’t rub it too hard.”
“Yes.”
The PD looked at Suhyeon, who nodded quietly.
His sparkling eyes and obedient demeanor seemed mismatched with his dreadful makeup, but Suhyeon’s cute appearance made even that discord look just pitiable and precious.
Satisfied with this, Bongchun curled his lips into a smile.
“Do you have claustrophobia by any chance?”
“What’s claustrophobia?”
“Well, it’s…”
Even in casual conversation, Suhyeon didn’t forget the details of the “six-year-old child actor.”
He asked about words that a child might not know and marveled as if it was something great when he heard the answers.
Maybe it was thanks to his endless reactions.
Although it could have been annoying, Bongchun added a kind explanation with a faint smile.
“Got it?”
“Yes!”
“Good. Once you go in there, your noona will lock it from the outside. Move when you hear the cue. Let’s hurry up, everyone!”
As the PD’s loud claps signaled the surroundings, those who had been dawdling quickly got to work.
The ceiling lights turned off, and the spacious set quickly transformed into an abandoned factory.
“Suhyeon, once you go in, noona will lock it.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“I’ll leave some space at the top, so you can stick your fingers in there to open it. Be careful not to do it too quickly, or you might get hurt.”
“Okay.”
Suhyeon got into the Boston bag that a staff member had opened wide.
The length was a bit short, but bending his legs created more space than expected.
“I’ll lock it now. It’s going to be very dark.”
Reminding him until the end, she zipped up the bag.
As the metal teeth clicked together one by one, Suhyeon adjusted his posture bit by bit.
The bag, designed to hold items, wasn’t very comfortable inside.
“Cue!”
After the faint sound of footsteps faded away, the director’s cue came.
“Mom…?”
Suhyeon played “Yeonwu,” who had just come to his senses and didn’t understand the situation.
He felt around the bag all the while searching for the last person he saw, “Jihee.”
“Mom, mom…!”
His slow movements gradually became more frantic, and despair filled his voice.
The young screams echoed in the quiet set, reminiscent of a torture scene.
Those around held their breath as they watched.
“Ha… Sniff. Mom…!”
How long had he struggled?
After a while of scratching the bag and saying he was sorry, Suhyeon slipped his fingers into the gap in the zipper as if by accident.
Then, he forcefully pulled it down and raised his upper body.
* * *
“Haah, sniff…! Hic. Mom…”
“…!”
AD Seo Gyeongsu, who was watching Suhyeon beside PD Bongchun, quickly covered his mouth.
He nearly screamed when the child burst out of the bag.
It’s acting, right? It’s just acting, right? It’s not a dangerous situation…?
He turned his head to the screen and carefully observed Suhyeon, who was drenched in tears and trembling.
His anxious, shaking pupils and quivering body didn’t seem like acting, but since the PD remained silent, he couldn’t step in and ruin the scene.
Isn’t this child abuse? We might get reported.
Gyeongsu looked around in mild panic.
He noticed others glancing around with uneasy eyes, perhaps thinking the same thing.
Unlike the other staff, the camera director and Bongchun stared at Suhyeon without blinking.
Their inhuman, almost entranced demeanor gave Gyeongsu chills.
The kid looks genuinely scared, so why is everyone just standing still? Should I step in? But then I’ll be on camera… What should I do…?
Following his conscience would get him noticed at work, but staying silent weighed on his conscience.
As Gyeongsu was lost in thought, the six-year-old actor Kang Suhyeon wiped his wet face with the back of his hand.
Then, he showed the camera a different look than before.
A strong, determined gaze.
Is that really acting? No way. His hands are still shaking… Is it real?
He denied the situation unfolding before his eyes.
Before coming to TNB, he had worked as a freelancer on various sets and witnessed many actors’ performances, making Suhyeon’s acting even harder to believe.
Can a real six-year-old act with such eyes? It’s not like he’s been acting since he was in the womb…
The slow yet rapid transformation from fear of the unfamiliar environment to the despair of being abandoned, and then to the will to live, could only be described as insane.
“Cut! Very good!”
Gyeongsu snapped out of it at the sound of applause around him.
While he had been in a daze, Suhyeon had fully emerged from the bag and was standing on his own feet.
There was no shadow on the brightly smiling child’s face.
This is amazing…
He looked away from the young actor and lowered his head.
His hands, clapping vigorously like everyone else’s, felt very unfamiliar.
[1] There’s clearly some discrepancy here with Suhyeon’s age.