One month into pre production,
Director Ki Do-han had been losing weight by the day.
"Director, please take breaks in between."
"There’s a mountain of problems. Ugh."
His trademark stiff way of speaking remained unchanged, but since they had been seeing each other so often, his attitude had grown much friendlier.
Because the lead actress was also the writer and investor, he frequently visited the practice room to discuss storyboards, casting, and various other matters. Countless meetings took place there. Before they realized it, the three of them had begun to feel like a small community making a film together.
Splash—
A drop of coffee splashed onto Director Ki’s shirt as he set down a paper cup.
It hardly mattered. His wrinkled, crumpled shirt was already stained in several places.
It was astonishing that someone so disheveled could be so meticulous when it came to filmmaking.
"The corps de ballet! The ballet company is the biggest problem."
The main dancers appearing in the practice room scenes would be cast separately, but one or two performance scenes in the film required an actual ballet company. It was impossible to hire dozens of ballerinas and begin choreography from scratch at this stage.
"The National Ballet flatly refused, and the Seoul Ballet Theater said Giselle isn’t part of their current repertoire, so adding extra rehearsals is out of the question..."
Apparently, there were not many ballet companies in the country capable of performing traditional classical ballet. Ki Do-han had tried persuading them by emphasizing the film’s artistic value and the promotional benefits for the company’s reputation, but it seemed difficult.
"We may really have to go all the way to Gwangju to shoot..."
The Gwangju City Ballet was apparently the only company that had responded positively. However, location related issues there had stalled discussions.
Yet despite all this discussion, there was one ballet company Ki Do-han never mentioned. If not for Seryeon, it would have been one of the strongest candidates.
Seryeon spoke first.
"What about Aurora?"
"...Ah... Aurora..."
It was the ballet company where she had danced until two years ago, the place she had left behind along with all her dreams.
No matter how ambitious Director Ki was about this film, he could never bring himself to ask them.
However—
"I’m okay with it."
Seryeon lifted her head and looked straight ahead with determination.
"My father has been a longtime sponsor of the Aurora Ballet Company. He may still have some influence there. If you make the proposal, I’ll ask him to guide things in a positive direction."
After voicing her resolve, she turned toward the partner seated beside her.
Without him, it would have been impossible.
He seemed like someone who had once walked through an endless dark tunnel himself.
He had said, ‘Let’s find the way together.’
It terrified her to imagine the pitying looks of her former colleagues and how far they might have progressed during her absence, but she decided to face reality head on.
To move forward.
He met her gaze and nodded.
"We’ve started the storyboard work."
"The supporting cast is finalized."
As March approached, only a month before crank in, the director’s announcements became increasingly frequent. The assistant director and production manager also found themselves with more work.
"Are all the supporting actors ballet dancers too?"
"Yes. There are limits to what CG can do."
In this film, lead actress Seryeon and supporting actor Yoomyeong would not be able to perform full ballet sequences themselves. Director Ki had explained that after filming, the doubles’ bodies would be synchronized with the actors using visual effects.
Just imagining the amount of post production work required for the leads alone was overwhelming.
"The visual effects team... they really need to do a good job."
Compositing faces and bodies during dynamic movements was an extremely difficult task. Despite Yoomyeong’s concern, Director Ki answered confidently.
"That’s not the problem. The VFX supervisor is a close friend of mine and the best technician in this field in the country. The real issue is the cinematographer."
"You still haven’t found one?"
"I haven’t found a cinematographer from Blue Film who matches the visual texture and style I’m aiming for. I’m considering several options, but..."
RRR—
At that moment, his phone rang.
"Yes. Senior. Yes. Really? Yes, we’re available anytime. Today? Yes, the location is..."
Excitement filled his voice as he spoke.
After hanging up, he turned to them with unconcealed excitement.
"It’s cinematographer Choi Ruhan!"
"Wait... Isn’t he Director Shinhak’s partner?"
"Yes. He’s my senior from film school. I asked him for recommendations during a gathering, and he jokingly mentioned that he wasn’t currently shooting anything and was free. So I just showed him the rough storyboard."
This man was bolder than he looked.
"How did it go?"
"He looked through it and laughed, saying I was trying to do something too difficult. He said there probably weren’t many cinematographers in Korea capable of handling this. But during the call just now, he said he wanted to see the faces of the lead and supporting actors. He told me not to get my hopes up since nothing’s confirmed yet..."
"When is he coming?"
"Uh... about an hour from now? He said he just left Mangwon dong."
"..."
Director Ki tried to suppress the grin spreading across his face.
"I’m confident he’ll want to film you once he sees Yoomyeong and Seryeon. I trust my judgment!"
"Director, why is this so sudden...? Sigh. Let’s practice, Yoomyeong."
Seryeon grabbed Yoomyeong by the arm, and they immediately resumed rehearsing. Watching them, Director Ki smiled quietly to himself and stepped outside the practice room.
He trusted his instincts.
Over the past two months of practice, both actors had improved tremendously in skill and chemistry.
That senior of his often acted detached, but he was famous for his obsessive passion for cinematography. Once he saw the actors Ki Do-han had chosen, he would definitely want to capture them on film.
Unable to sit still, he paced in front of the building, repeatedly checking his watch.
Choi Ruhan pulled out a cigarette, and Do-han quickly lit it for him.
"What’s interesting about them?"
"The lead actress is still rough around the edges, but there’s something about her that draws the eye. She used to be a ballerina, right?"
"Yes, senior."
"The elegance of her movements will make the shots visually beautiful. And the actor playing the Phantom... what’s his background?"
"He’s an amateur who did theater in college. Surprisingly, he doesn’t really feel amateurish."
"You filmed them with the camcorder earlier."
"Yes."
"I didn’t notice anything while he was standing still. But the moment he started acting... even though I was filming in a full shot, it felt like a close up. The focus became that intense."
Ruhan’s eyes gleamed, and Do-han subtly smiled in triumph.
"Sometimes there are actors who pull your gaze through the camera even when they’re standing still. But this one showed none of that until the exact moment he started acting... Hmm. Fascinating."
"He’s a good actor."
"Hmm... Are you planning to submit this to film festivals?"
Yes! Do-han cheered internally at those words.
"Yes, we’re considering several."
"Can you match my usual rate?"
"Of course!"
"Then I’ll call you ‘Director’ on set. Prepare the contract and contact me."
"Thank you, senior!"
"And stop calling me ‘senior.’"
Ruhan waved him off and briskly walked away.
And at that moment, Do-han thought:
‘Now it really begins.’
An indoor set replicating a ballet practice room.
Holding the day’s shot list, the cinematographer busily directed the assistants. The assistant director guided the staff in a lively voice, while junior crew members from every department hurried around nonstop.
There were not many filming locations for this movie.
Most scenes would be shot in the practice room, backstage, or onstage. The practice room set alone accounted for nearly forty percent of the film.
Yoomyeong did not appear in the practice room scenes, but he naturally came to the set anyway.
Seryeon’s acting was still unstable, and she relied heavily on Yoomyeong’s support and presence.
"Alright, let’s all greet each other."
Although it was not a large commercial production, there were still a considerable number of staff members present.
The director, assistant director, production team, cinematography department, lighting crew, art department, costume and makeup team... and the actors.
Four actors would appear regularly: the lead and supporting actors, their dance doubles, Soobin, the male dancer secretly in love with Hwaran, and Yeonjeong, the younger ballerina Hwaran envies.
Including the ballet artistic director and the other ballerinas in smaller roles, roughly ten actors exchanged greetings.
"I’ll be giving direction, but if you have any concerns about acting, feel free to ask Shin Yoomyeong here."
Director Ki informed the ballet dancers, most of whom had little acting experience, about the arrangement he had discussed earlier with Yoomyeong. Everyone turned toward him in surprise.
"I still have much to learn myself, but I’ll help however I can within my abilities. Please feel comfortable approaching me."
Once the introductions ended, the assistant director stepped forward and raised his voice.
"Begin costume and makeup preparations. We’ll start filming Scene 2 in one hour! Staff, finalize preparations and stand by according to the shot list!"
"Yes—"
At last, filming began.
Though the dancers had plenty of stage experience, they were not accustomed to acting for the camera. They could not even attempt long takes. Even short scenes were repeatedly interrupted by mistakes.
"NG! You looked directly into the lens!"
"NG! In the previous shot the water bottle was in your left hand. Now it’s in your right!"
"Don’t step outside your mark!"
The assistant director’s sharp voice rang repeatedly across the set, pointing out basic mistakes unrelated to acting itself.
The one struggling most was Yoon Seryeon.
"Cut. Seryeon, one more time. After overhearing the other ballerinas talking, give me a more surprised expression."
"Cut. Face the camera a little more directly."
"Cut. At that point—"
"Cut—"
Director Ki, notorious in his previous life for perfectionism, endlessly extended filming whenever he worked with inexperienced actors.
It was painful to watch Seryeon calmly repeat the same scenes amid endless retakes.
"Cut— Okay, let’s stop here for now. Thank you. We’ll resume this afternoon."
Perhaps because it was the first day, or because filming had fallen behind schedule, they were given a proper lunch break. Director Ki let out a deep sigh while talking with the assistant director.
"The pace is too slow, isn’t it? We should’ve gotten seven or eight cuts by now, but we only finished three."
"It’ll probably improve over time. I think everyone’s still getting used to the camera."
While they discussed their concerns, Yoomyeong approached Seryeon and handed her a bottle of water. She sat there drenched in sweat.
"Can you handle it?"
"It’s okay. It’s hard, but at least it doesn’t hurt."
She had once said that during her final year practicing ballet, the pain in her toes, as if they were breaking apart, frightened her more than exhaustion ever did. Sometimes she forgot the pain only when she became completely immersed in dancing.
"It’s hard to maintain emotions when the cuts are so short, right?"
"Yeah. In ballet, once you step onstage, emotions continue for several minutes, sometimes tens of minutes. But in film, cuts only last a few seconds to a few minutes. It’s also difficult constantly being aware of the camera."
"You’ll get used to it. As for emotions, what matters ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) is how much Yoon Seryeon resembles Hwaran once the camera captures her. Since Hwaran is basically your ego reflected in the role, it’s enough to simply be yourself."
After all, what Director Ki expected from Seryeon was not acting.
The natural emotions of Yoon Seryeon alone were already enough. This work existed to pour out the essence of who she was, and that alone would be enough for one lifetime.
"Just be myself..."
"Yes. Be yourself. And as for being conscious of the camera... umm... could you think of the camera as part of the corps?"
"The camera as... the corps?"
