28.
Seo Jung-woo, whom I met again after only a few days, greeted me with:
“You’ve done a really great job, Min-ki.”
“…….”
“I passed on that minor role thinking it might be a good experience for you. I never expected you to make such a splash. I’m genuinely amazed.”
He said this with a gentle smile.
“Well, I had a feeling it might turn out this way.”
Hearing that, Lee Min-ki couldn’t help but wonder:
‘Was this his plan all along?’
He’d been puzzled when the minor role had suddenly come his way.
It felt specifically designated for him from JC [his agency]. It didn’t seem like Kim Ah-sung, the trainer, had directly found it.
He’d suspected something was up, and it turned out Seo Jung-woo was behind it.
But that didn’t necessarily mean it was a bad thing.
“Thanks to you, I got a great opportunity. Thank you.”
He was genuinely grateful.
He’d started as a minor character and quickly secured a position closer to a supporting role.
He’d made a good impression on viewers right from the start, and nothing could be better than that.
“No, it’s entirely thanks to your excellent work, Min-ki,” Seo Jung-woo replied, still smiling gently.
“We received the script and passed it on thinking you could gain experience, even if the role wasn’t a huge success. It’s up to the individual to make the most of any opportunity.”
He reiterated that it was all due to Lee Min-ki’s hard work.
“But the reason I wanted to meet today isn’t just about that. I have something else I want to discuss with you, Min-ki.”
The pleasantries ended, and finally, the main topic came up.
“What is it you wanted to discuss……?”
“This.”
Seo Jung-woo slid a stack of papers across the desk.
“Take a look.”
A fairly thick stack, more than ten pages clipped together.
Lee Min-ki carefully picked them up, handling them as if they were precious, and slowly flipped through them.
Then he realized.
‘Audition applications.’
They were scripts for movies, dramas, and other projects.
They included brief outlines of the plots, character descriptions, and lines to practice for the auditions.
Not incredibly detailed, but enough to get a general idea of the content.
Several were for projects that would be broadcast soon or were already in pre-production.
And the content of these projects seemed strangely familiar.
‘This is good.’
Lee Min-ki’s memory was extensive.
He remembered the plots of most projects he’d ever seen.
It was like choosing the answer after already knowing the question.
He even remembered the box office performance of some of the more ambiguous ones.
Presenting these projects all of a sudden… did that mean he wanted him to choose which one to audition for?
While Lee Min-ki was carefully reviewing the list, Seo Jung-woo spoke.
“These are projects that will start filming soon. And they’re the ones I want you to consider, Min-ki. Of course, there’s no guarantee you’ll get a part just by choosing.”
As expected.
Lee Min-ki’s hunch had been correct.
But that meant he needed to make an even more careful and informed choice.
‘You never know which project will truly take off.’
Even though he remembered the future, things could change during filming.
[Campus Story] was a prime example.
Originally, it was supposed to be a flop or slightly below average in terms of viewership, but his involvement had transformed it into an above-average or even excellent show.
The same thing could happen again.
He could choose a successful project and make it even more successful, but conversely, a project that was destined for success could fail because of his involvement.
‘Trust your memory, but don’t rely on it completely.’
Even so, there was something he desired.
As a minimum safety net, he wanted to choose a project that had been successful in his past life. It would be ideal if he could get a good role in it.
‘Looking at it this way, there aren’t many to choose from.’
Lee Min-ki sighed softly.
‘Menuha…… It’s a successful project, but the role is mediocre.’
Menuha was a comedy about a person who goes on vacation and experiences various events in a rural village.
It had drawn 2 million viewers nationwide and was considered moderately successful.
But the role he could potentially play was uninspiring.
‘Forever Green, the role itself isn’t bad. The story is good too. It became a hot topic, but…… the overall performance of the project is questionable.’
Forever Green.
Despite the refreshing title, it was a crime thriller movie.
The project had received fairly good reviews and had been discussed among viewers for a long time.
The director was well-known.
Moreover, Lee Min-ki had very fond memories of watching it.
He’d even thought that he would definitely want to be in it if he ever had the chance.
‘But it’s a project by a famous director, so the competition will be fierce, and the box office performance was underwhelming compared to the director’s reputation.’
It was a picaresque [a genre of fiction that depicts the adventures of a roguish hero] story, and it was told too seriously.
Successful movies usually weren’t consistently serious; they were often told in a somewhat lighthearted way.
‘Hmm, something feels off about everything I look at.’
It wasn’t easy.
It was harder because he knew too much.
He was deep in 고민 [Korean word for “worry” or “deliberation”] and silently flipped through the stack of papers for a long time.
Seo Jung-woo, who had been waiting patiently, suddenly spoke.
“Are you 고민?”
“Ah, well, yes.”
Lee Min-ki hesitated and nodded.
Then Seo Jung-woo said, as if he’d anticipated this.
“You’ll have to get used to it. With projects, you’re held responsible even if they fail, and you’re held responsible even if they succeed. In this industry, some actors blame their poor careers on the ‘luck’ of the project.”
Seo Jung-woo glanced at the synopses with a nonchalant look and continued.
“Those people usually continue to have bad luck with their projects. Why do you think that is?”
It was a question.
But it wasn’t just a question.
He was trying to educate Lee Min-ki on how to evaluate projects as an actor.
‘I need to answer carefully.’
Lee Min-ki blinked for a moment and then said:
“Is it because the ability to judge projects is also part of an actor’s skill set?”
This was it.
He thought it was the perfect answer from every angle.
Seo Jung-woo readily replied:
“10% correct, and 90% wrong.”
An ambiguous answer.
Was he wrong?
He thought he’d answered within a reasonable range.
Lee Min-ki was puzzled, but Seo Jung-woo nodded as if he was very pleased and said:
“Let’s start with the wrong part. The reason why the ‘luck’ of the project is bad is because the actor himself chose it that way.”
“Choice?”
“Yes, there’s actually a formula for commercially successful projects.”
Seo Jung-woo continued, moving his pen over the paper.
“Good director, good actors, good team, good genre, good investors, etc. If you choose well within a certain range, you’ll have a pretty good batting average [success rate].”
“Ah.”
The moment he heard those words, things clicked into place for Lee Min-ki.
Seo Jung-woo continued cheerfully.
“If you follow the success formula, you’ll get at least one hit even if you strike out on three or four projects. Even if the actor himself doesn’t choose and leaves it to the agency, it will at least go that far. But why did they all fail in a row?”
“That’s probably because, without even realizing it, they unconsciously activated their hipster tendencies?”
“That’s correct.”
Seo Jung-woo nodded and said:
“You can’t completely exclude the actor’s own taste. I think acting is originally that kind of job. You can’t just look at commerciality while pursuing it.”
His words were filled with a certain conviction.
Perhaps it was a kind of foresight derived from years of industry experience.
It may not be the absolute truth.
But Lee Min-ki thought it was worth keeping in mind and asked:
“Then what is the 10% that was correct?”
“This is a very small number of cases.”
Seo Jung-woo said with a smirk, as if telling a ridiculous joke.
“Sometimes, very rarely, there are extremely unlucky people.”
“…….”
For a moment, his heart skipped a beat.
When there was no reaction from Lee Min-ki, Seo Jung-woo asked, as if curious:
“What’s wrong?”
“No, it’s nothing.”
“To continue, there are people who trip and fall even when walking forward, and trip and fall even when walking backward.”
“…….”
“They really can’t do anything right. They can’t do it even if they try their best. They’re just people who are incapable. But who would believe that? It’s just superstition. So I don’t even consider the possibility.”
“…….”
“But if possible, I don’t want to get involved. Misfortune spreads like a disease, doesn’t it?”
“…….”
“I hope you’re careful if there are people like that around you, Min-ki.”
I’m sorry, but every word you say is stabbing me in the heart like an arrow.
While Lee Min-ki was suffering from internal turmoil, Seo Jung-woo continued.
“But fortunately, you’re lucky, Min-ki.”
“Ahem.”
“You’ve taken the perfect first step as an actor, haven’t you? You’ve made a good impression with your first project, and it’s great that someone with good skills like me is helping you choose your projects, isn’t it?”
Seo Jung-woo continued to talk for a while and then pulled out one project and said:
“So, the project I recommend is this.”
There was a stack of papers attached to his fingertips.
And it was a project that Lee Min-ki knew well.
No, should he say he knew it well?
It was more than that.
[Beneath the Sky]
It was a story about a young man who is tired of city life and moves to the countryside, where he finds healing and love.
The genre was, of course, drama.
“A talented director who had success with his previous project is at the helm. Most of the actors involved are reliable, and the acting burden doesn’t seem too heavy.”
“The setup is solid.”
“There’s nothing better than this for a rookie who is just making a name for himself. The distributor is also experienced, so they’ll do a good job with marketing.”
Listening to Seo Jung-woo’s explanation, it was the epitome of mediocrity.
But that mediocrity was suitable for a rookie, as he said.
That’s how the drama genre often was.
Should he say it’s close to a gateway for rookies? It’s safe to say that it’s expected to have good results without much difficulty.
‘Putting everything else aside, it was a mid-level hit.’
[Beneath the Sky] was a well-made project.
As Lee Min-ki tried to nod, recalling the plot, Seo Jung-woo continued.
“The project is good, but the role is also quite good. It’s said to be the protagonist’s close friend, and although it’s one step below the lead role, you can subtly showcase your presence.”
Even the role was good.
But.
The project [Beneath the Sky] was etched a little differently in Lee Min-ki’s mind.
‘The acting skills of the male actors who participated in this role were no joke.’
That’s right.
[Beneath the Sky] was a successful project.
The problem was that the participating actors were incredibly talented, a golden lineup.
It was full of next-generation actors who would later become famous for their acting skills.
Could he confidently compete against these people in the audition and win the role?
“Hmm…….”
As Lee Min-ki was caught in 고민, Seo Jung-woo asked:
“What’s wrong?”
“No, the role is definitely good, but I think many talented actors will be vying for it because it’s such a good role.”
“That prediction is probably correct. It’s the season when rookies are being replaced, so many will be interested.”
Seo Jung-woo nodded, as if Lee Min-ki’s concern was somewhat valid.
But he soon said confidently:
“That’s why you should apply for this kind of project even more.”
“Yes?”
“It’s natural for a good role to have a high competition rate. Are you always going to back down because of that? Rather, it’s worth applying for even more because the competition is high.”
He meant that a high competition rate was a good sign.
That’s right.
It was theoretically a very correct statement.
“A successful actor isn’t someone who avoids competition, but someone who overcomes it.”
There was even some passion in Seo Jung-woo’s voice.
Just when he felt overwhelmed by that spirit, Seo Jung-woo returned to his usual self, as if the heat from just now had vanished, and said:
“Well, that’s just how it is in words. Our priority is the actor’s choice.”
It felt a bit like he was asking a question with a predetermined answer.
Like he told you to choose, and then when you worry about the chosen project, he suddenly scolds you.
He understood that he was trying to educate him, but wasn’t this a tiring way to do it?
‘This is a headache.’
But.
Rather, these headache-inducing words gave Lee Min-ki an enlightenment.
‘That’s right, if a role looks good to me, it will look good to others too.’
The ability to see potential in projects is the same for everyone.
It would be rare for a project to be successful and have a low competition rate at the same time.
You can’t grow as an actor with the attitude of waiting for such a project to fall into your lap and then choosing to take it.
The problem was that he was only looking at the results in the first place.
Success and competition are intertwined.
‘I need to be clear about whether I just want to achieve social success or succeed as an actor.’
What did he want to become?
What kind of actor?
He 고민 for a moment.
‘Yes, I understand now.’
A small decision was made.
‘Let’s not disregard box office success, but let’s not be afraid of competition either.’
He found a balance within himself.
Let’s not rely on memory either.
It’s enough to get help in choosing a project that will completely fail.
‘Let’s choose a project that I really want to be in. Even if the competition is fierce.’
Lee Min-ki took a small breath and finally picked up a project.
“I’ll go with this.”
It was that moment.
“This is… surprising.”
Seo Jung-woo rummaged through the papers with a slightly surprised expression, as if he hadn’t expected Lee Min-ki to make this choice, and said:
“This project may not be successful, are you okay with that?”
“Yes, I have a feeling about it.”
Lee Min-ki said in a confident voice.
“I want to be in this project.”
“Wouldn’t it be a genre that is somewhat burdensome for a rookie? The acting skills of the actors you’ll be appearing with are so strong that you might be overshadowed. Acting skills are somewhat relative.”
“I think I can grow even more because of that.”
Lee Min-ki placed his hand on the paper as if he had made a firm decision and said:
“Forever Green. I want to be in this project.”
Forever Green.
It was a project that he had rejected a little while ago because of the tough competition and slightly disappointing box office performance.
But this project was definitely one he wanted to act in.
“Won’t you regret it later?”
“No!”
Seo Jung-woo blinked for a moment at the refreshing answer.
Then he chuckled and said:
“Do you know that rookie actors are often divided into two types?”
Lee Min-ki tilted his head, wondering what he meant, and he continued.
“One type is obsessed with box office success and only pursues stable success. And the other type tries to look at the quality of the project itself.”
“…….”
“It’s ironic, but in my experience, the latter is more successful in the long run.”
He said hipsters all fail.
He thought what he said earlier was contradictory, but Seo Jung-woo got up from his seat and held out his hand and said:
“Min-ki, welcome to the world of a true actor.”
The world of a true actor.
There was some kind of joy in Seo Jung-woo’s eyes as he looked at Lee Min-ki, saying those words.
“Ah, yes.”
Lee Min-ki unknowingly grabbed his outstretched hand.
It was that moment.
Seo Jung-woo pulled his hand back and said:
“No, I didn’t mean a handshake, I meant to return the official document.”
“Ah.”
“Then I’ll go to a meeting for a while.”
As he left the seat.
Lee Min-ki was left alone in the office and thought:
‘……Did I overdo it?’
I was too drunk on 뽕 [Korean slang for “feeling high” or “overly enthusiastic”].