An Actor Who Has Lived For 10,000 Years [EN]: Chapter 161

161. #29 – What I Didn’t Know (4)

“Weren’t you at the theater today?”

I turned towards the voice and saw the man sitting beside me.

It was the same actor I’d watched earlier.

The one who played a supporting role, not the lead.

And I had moved between different viewing rooms to focus on his performance, singling him out from the five actors, including the lead.

I was so captivated by his acting that I’d focused solely on him throughout the play.

And now, he was right in front of me, recognizing me—a member of the audience—and speaking to me.

Of course, this play didn’t draw a large crowd.

It was an exclusive performance where a small number of people paid a premium for tickets.

Choosing to watch *this* actor’s room out of the five available was even less common.

Still, the fact that he’d noticed and remembered me in the dimly lit audience made my eyes widen as I replied.

“You are, right? The character who stole bread in today’s performance, Brian!”

He smiled brightly. “Yes, it seems we meet again.”

“I know, right? I really enjoyed the play today.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Brian.”

At his introduction, I widened my eyes. “Your character’s name and your real name are both Brian?”

“Yes, most of the actors in today’s play used their real names.”

“Wow, I see. I’m Jin Hee-sung.”

He carefully and attentively pronounced my name, as if it were unfamiliar. “Jin… Hee… Sung?”

“Yes, that’s right. Just call me ‘Jin’ for short.”

“Okay, Jin. I’m glad you enjoyed the performance.”

“Enjoyed? It was truly amazing.”

He tilted his head. “Come to think of it, where are you visiting from, Jin?”

“I’m traveling from Korea.”

“Oh, I know Korea! I’ve been to Seoul once.”

I smiled. “Come visit again sometime. There are many great places in Korea.”

“I have such fond memories. Korean people are all so kind.”

“Haha, they’re very warm-hearted people.”

Before we knew it, Brian and I had become friendly, turning to face each other and raising our glasses.

“But you seemed to come to the performance alone. Are you usually interested in this kind of theater?”

I raised my eyebrows. “Actually, I’m an actor in Korea.”

“You’re an actor? Wow!” His face lit up even more.

The fact that we were in the same profession created an instant connection.

“Yes, I started because I loved acting since I was young. What about you, Brian?”

He leaned forward, eager to share his story. “When I was young, I watched a movie and dreamed about it for days. I was completely obsessed.”

“That movie must have been incredibly impactful.”

“It was. So, a few days later, I watched it again. And even after that, I couldn’t forget it.”

He sparkled as he remembered that time.

“But it wasn’t just that movie. All movies and dramas had that effect on me.”

Brian took a sip of his cocktail.

I looked into his eyes. “Brian, you wanted to act, didn’t you? Since you were very young.”

He smiled brightly. “I’m happy when I act. What about you, Jin?”

The moment he asked that, I knew for certain.

That I am happier than anyone else when I’m acting.

“Cheers.”

We clinked glasses.

And shared acting stories even more deeply.

“Brian, is there a specific reason why you do theater instead of dramas or movies?”

I didn’t believe he wasn’t in dramas or movies because he kept failing auditions.

His acting was too good.

So much so that I’d followed only him throughout the play, ignoring the lead.

The reason Brian wasn’t the lead wasn’t due to a lack of talent.

It was because the story centered on a successful career woman, requiring a female lead.

There wasn’t a single flaw in Brian’s performance.

At my question, Brian shrugged. “I prefer acting in front of a live audience rather than standing before a camera. They experience my acting in real time.”

I nodded.

“Brian… you’re really cool.”

“No, I’m not.”

“I’m serious. Brian, I was constantly impressed by your acting. It felt like I was watching Brian’s daily life; I didn’t even think it was acting. By any chance… isn’t Brian’s role based on your real life? Haha.”

Brian’s character was a thief.

A role that steals necessities like food and clothing to survive.

He burst into laughter. “Haha, of course not! If I were, I’d be in jail, not here, right?”

We laughed heartily and drank.

He made a ‘tss’ sound and turned serious. “It’s not enough to simply experience or hear stories. When you’re acting, you have to *become* that person.”

I nodded in agreement.

“I act like that too. As if I’ve merged with the role. That’s why I try to consciously separate myself after the performance is over.”

“Exactly. But I think you have to go even further than that.”

I tilted my head.

“More than becoming one with the role?”

Brian nodded, his face the most serious I’d seen it. “Yes, to give a truly perfect performance, I think you need to understand not only that person’s perspective but *all* the roles.”

Brian continued, pouring out his passion. “When I get a script, I transcribe the entire thing and study what thoughts all the characters—all the roles that interact with mine—had when they said their lines.”

I exclaimed in admiration. “You empathize with all the other roles! You write out the entire script and analyze it?”

“That’s right. When you transcribe, it’s completely different from quickly reading with your eyes. I think about what kind of feelings the other roles have, and it’s even better if you organize those thoughts further.”

“That’s how you can finally understand 100% of the background and the character’s situation.”

Brian snapped his fingers. “Perfect!”

I bit my lip.

…That makes sense.

Brian’s words resonated with me, and I wanted to try his method.

“And also….”

He continued, excited about his craft.

We talked for hours, staying until the cocktail bar closed.

“Jin, can I get your social media handle?”

“Of course.”

I gave him my username.

His eyes widened as he searched. “What? Jin, you’re a hugely famous star?”

“Haha, no. Tell me yours so I can follow you too.”

“I’m honored.”

I looked at his profile. “Even though we’re far apart, let’s keep in touch. Friend!”

“Okay. Let’s spend our lives doing the acting we love.”

“If I get the chance next time, I definitely want to act with you.”

That’s how we ended our time together, promising to meet again.

***

As soon as I returned to Korea, I went straight to my study instead of my bed.

It was a short trip to New York, but I learned and experienced so much.

A trip I had taken to relax and recharge.

But in that process, I felt and realized my longing for acting even more.

I had thought that acting was simply about understanding the psychology behind a character’s lines.

That knowing their emotions was enough.

So I believed that what I saw in my dreams [presumably referring to his ability to dream the roles] was sufficient.

But this trip made me realize that that wasn’t everything.

Without resting, I immediately took out a script from my desk.

The work for which I’d received an award for my acting, and the most recent role I’d played: ‘Blackman’.

I had studied this role more than any other.

Partly because I joined the production mid-run as a replacement, and partly because I felt a great deal of pressure.

It was a project I’d poured a lot of effort into.

I already thought I knew my character in Blackman inside and out.

Would anything really change if I transcribed it?

Thinking, ‘Let’s just trust him and try it,’ I opened the script.

Then, I grabbed an empty notebook and began writing down the lines, starting from the very first page.

Two hours had passed since I began transcribing.

“Haa….”

I put down my pen to stretch my stiff neck and back.

I stood up to stretch.

This wasn’t like the old days when I was mindlessly copying wrong answers [a common study technique in some cultures].

Transcribing with all my focus took more energy than I expected.

It was a different level of effort than simply moving letters.

It made me think deeply about each word, and as I wrote, the role’s situation, tone, and atmosphere all came to life.

Numerous thoughts swirled in my head.

I looked out the window and took deep breaths to organize them.

Then, I returned to my seat, sat down, and closed the script.

I stared at the transcription notebook, not the script, with wide eyes.

“Shall I read it through? Ahem.”

I cleared my throat and instantly immersed myself, holding the notebook in both hands and bringing it close to my face.

“If I hadn’t been there at that time… would we not have done this?”

I frowned and stared into the air.

“No, I think… even if I had been alone there that day, the same thing would have happened. You’re no different from me either, don’t be mistaken.”

At that moment, tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision.

What is this?

I had clearly interpreted this emotion as anger at the time.

The expression I used during filming was completely different from the tearful face I had now.

But now, my interpretation of the role was regret and disappointment, recalling those days.

“If I had acted like I do now, the expression would have been different….”

It’s not that I acted *wrong* at the time.

But I clearly felt that if I had acted after transcribing like this…

I could have acted with a little more nuance than I did then.

I realized that I could embrace not only the underlying psychology but also the character’s deeper thoughts.

Brian’s advice.

I had tried transcribing with some doubt, but I was now certain that it was a practice method that suited me far better than I’d imagined.

“Should I try another script?”

Realizing how different the experience was before and after transcribing, I began piling all the scripts I’d acted in onto the desk.