Chapter 711
“That’s not what I mean.”
“Then what do you mean?”
“I-I just wanted to tell you that you are amazing. I definitely didn’t plan on mocking you.”
“But it sounded like you were mocking me.”
Yuna’s eyes looked like they were spitting out fire. Maru raised his concentration. The wave of emotions that Yuna showed was not the shallow one that started off near the beaches, but a giant one that started in the deep sea. If he got swept up, he would lose his balance and would become busy trying to pour out his acts in a busy manner. In order to not let that happen, Maru had to adjust the speed himself. Since she changed her way of acting on such short notice, Yuna probably couldn’t control herself fully. He had to provide her with a guideline to lead her bloated emotions down the right path. He prioritized that for the moment.
He slowly guided her with the experience he had gained from coaching his juniors at the acting club, but as Yuna’s pure breadth of emotions was too wide, Maru’s own mental consumption was considerable as well.
He had to control his own acting while observing himself through an objective eye, and at the same time, he had to watch out for Yuna’s expressions and body language in order to decide on the overall pacing of the scene.
-I think we should bring her out a little more here.
The masked man had spoken. Maru quickly checked if the masked man’s advice was suitable or not before taking action. The times when he didn’t have a line and used just his emotions to act was the time he discussed with the masked man. Controlling himself perfectly consumed too much energy, and it was impossible to look after Yuna as well with just his own power. In that sense, the masked man’s advice was precise and clear. Maru thought that he was above him in the facet of acting by several levels.
-To put it simply, this lady has a really deep well. If given the opportunity, she might be able to cry all day or laugh all day. Of course, she’s a person as well, so she should eventually tire herself out, but as long as she is given enough rest from time to time, she will recover incredibly quickly. People’s talents are really different and come in all sorts of forms. It’s just a matter of whether they can discover it and use it properly.
Maru agreed with those words. If he himself acted like Yuna did, he would have a hard time digesting just one scene. Maximizing one’s emotions all the time wasn’t something easy. Even athletes with the biggest lung capacity were bound to run out of energy if they kept sprinting, yet Yuna kept running like a person with three or four lungs. As envious as Maru was, he didn’t long for such a talent. It was a talent that did not suit his acting methods. Yuna probably didn’t take any damage to her own emotions, even if she amplified the emotions of the character like a balloon, because she was someone who could be extremely honest with herself. That was something he couldn’t imitate, so there was no need to be greedy for something like that.
“I didn’t… mean to mock you.”
He split up his line so that Yuna could find the right speed. While Yuna acted like an onrush of waves, she wasn’t just spending emotions without reason. She was quick to catch on when Maru gave her the hints. Yuna took a breather before continuing her line.
“Okay, fine. I get it.”
Yuna started taking back the overflowing emotions. It was at that time that Ganghwan gave them a bowl of udon to continue the situation. Maru was inwardly very impressed. Ganghwan, who received the act at just the right time, when the emotional depth was just the right, was definitely one of the best actors.
“It’s hot, so be careful.”
“Thank you,” Maru said first.
Following the script, Yuna spoke a moment later. A script would never indicate when to speak or take action. Hurriedly, urgently, leisurely, slowly - words like these that indicated the speed would show up from time to time, but it was up to the actor to decide how long he or she should take to do one line or one action. Even a simple conversation would feel incredibly different according to how much time they put in between the lines. Ganghwan went over to the next act before Yuna sidetracked. If he was just a little quicker, Yuna would have stood out from the scene with her remnant emotions, and if he was too late, it would have been awkward and the director would have jumped in.
“Thank you,” Yuna replied as she looked at the bowl of udon.
Ever since she no longer restrained her emotions and instead started to project them, her expressions became really plentiful. Even now, her face melted down from a frosty one to a faintly happy one. Maru made a faint smile. While it was the smile belonging to the ‘Park Haejoon’ in the story, it was also ‘Han Maru’s’ honest emotions towards the junior that followed without getting tired.
“Cut, okay! Let’s flip the camera around and do that one again. The mood is good, so please hurry up.”
Jayeon’s voice could be heard. Yuna put down her chopsticks while relaxing her shoulders.
“Is it hard?” Maru asked.
She nodded.
“I think this is the first time I’ve been so focused. I’m even more nervous than when I was doing a play.”
“There are a lot of eyes on us. The camera lens especially exudes quite a big pressure.”
“Yeah. I feel really iffy because it feels like a giant eye is staring at me, and I can’t entirely be unconscious of it either.”
“I feel like my soul is being sucked out too,” Ganghwan said as he sat down on the plastic chair. While he was someone who was used to people’s eyes on him, it seemed that the stiff ‘gaze’ of the camera was something he had not gotten used to yet.
“You should cause some NGs. I want to rest a little too,” Ganghwan said while stretching his arms out.
Maru looked at the camera which was now placed on his right. As this scene was going to be taken from the side, Ganghwan wouldn’t be in the scene.
“If you’re ready, let’s start right away.”
Jayeon clapped and asked everyone to move quickly. It seemed that she didn’t want the atmosphere to relax. Maru took a glance at the camera director standing next to him before he immersed himself in acting. He got his emotions together and reminded himself of the nature of the character that he a.n.a.lyzed and grabbed the bowl with both of his hands. There was no need to say that he was ready. Jayeon was very good at discerning the state of the actors.
“Three, two, one… cue.”
Maru picked up his chopsticks and ate some noodles. As he pushed the udon into his mouth with slightly hurried movements, he looked towards the side. Yuna, who was not in the camera angle, was using her chopsticks on an empty bowl. She was probably practicing in order to help him out.
He met eyes with Yuna as well as Ganghwan who was yawning right in front of him. This was the difference between acting in front of a camera and acting on a stage. In a play, all the actors would have their concentration up at every moment while they were on the limited s.p.a.ce known as the stage, but in front of a camera, there were cases where only the actor in the camera frame was focusing on acting.
It would be a lot easier for the actors if the other actors around them set the mood up for them, but continuously doing that was practically impossible. While plays had a limited run time of one or two hours, the same wasn’t true for dramas. A drama shoot would continue late into the night if they couldn’t digest their full schedule. Not to mention the staff, the actors had to save up energy, so actors who weren’t even in the camera frame could not possibly act with pa.s.sion. They had to do their own acting regardless of whether the others were yawning or using chopsticks in empty air.
Before tasting the sweetness of first love, what would Park Haejoon’s state be like? Among the core elements that made up Park Haejoon, Maru brought out ‘nervousness’ and ‘worry’. By nature, the character known as Park Haejoon could not be enthusiastic towards women even if it was a girl from his cla.s.s. What would he feel when he looked at a cla.s.smate acting really cold towards him? It definitely wouldn’t be something like pity. Park Haejoon was an awkward boy who couldn’t even go that far.
A sense of excitement towards the unknown as well as a bit of admiration. It was probably at that level for now. As the word love was unfamiliar to him, he would always act cautious and be ready to run away at any time, but in a corner of his heart, he would have tiny hopes while continuing to just eat the udon quietly without stopping the distance from getting further.
His brain reached the conclusion of the a.n.a.lysis instantly. The masked man talked to him, saying that he wanted to fall deep into the character, but Maru had no plans on letting the man take over. What he needed right now was a variety of experiences. It would be better if it was a first-hand experience as well. He would toss the baton over if he was in a situation that he couldn’t solve himself, but until then, he planned to have full control.
The more characters he experienced and the more acting patterns he gained, the easier it would become for him to combine various different elements to come up with something new. Even trivial acting was precious data. If he could engrave his actions into his mind, he would become even better when he came across a situation where he played a similar character.
He picked up his bowl and drank the broth. The camera standing two meters away from him caught his eyes, but his consciousness erased the camera calmly. In a state of complete self-understanding, he even had the s.p.a.ce around him under the domain of his consciousness. It felt like the ‘camera’ that looked at Han Maru, the individual, had fallen back to capture everything around. The objects in his vision didn’t disappear into the depths of short-term memory but remained in his mind as though he had memorized them. This increased his fatigue, but it definitely helped him out with the details.
The moment he put down the bowl, Maru heaved out a deep breath. He had put a surprising amount of focus into that act. He felt like the stage where the masked man was, had popped out into real life. He gained the strange confidence that he would be able to do anything in this s.p.a.ce. If given enough time, he might be able to find out what his partnering actor would want him to do.
This would be useless when he acted by himself, but if synchronization with the partner was important, he felt like he could get some use out of it. If he could discern the partnering actor’s advantages and disadvantages and then adapt real-time, he himself would become better as well. Not to mention, he would be able to go home early.
“s...o...b..e, are you hot?” Yuna asked as she gave him some napkins.
Maru accepted the napkins and wiped his forehead. He had sweated quite a bit.
“It’s not that hot. Yuna, is my makeup okay?”
“Yes. Nothing smudged.”
Maru shook his hair off slightly before picking up his script. He compared the things he wrote down about the character beforehand as well as the things he felt while acting and started tuning it. The character kept generating new information as he continued acting with the other actors. Although the character had a set frame thanks to the script and the scenario, they were never static. If the actors became lazy and took their eyes off the character, they would eventually find themselves in a situation where they were the ones acting, but also the ones finding themselves to be awkward. The reason even the best actors sometimes got caught up in an ‘unskilled actor’ controversy was not because they lacked skill, but because they had become complacent after getting used to the character.
In order to not make such mistakes, actors could not relax their tension. The only time they could let their guards down and rest is at the end-of-series party.
But where did he hear about all this? Maru found the thoughts that came to his mind curious. These thoughts were something he had never learned or heard of before, but they still naturally came to his mind as though he had learned them already.
Maru sought the masked man.
Did the masked man tell him that while he wasn’t conscious of it?
The masked man did not answer. Instead, there was laughter that sounded like air escaping a vent. To Maru, the laughter seemed to contain a vow to never have hopes again.