༺ Crank-in ༻
One month into pre-production.
Director Ki Do-han had been losing weight day by day.
“Director, please take breaks in between.”
“There is a mountain of problems. Ugh.”
His signature stiff manner of speaking remained the same, but since they had been facing each other frequently, his attitude had become much friendlier.
As the main actress was also the writer and investor, he frequently visited the practice room to give his opinions on the storyboard, casting, and other matters. Many meetings took place there. Before they knew it, the three of them felt as if they were part of a community who was making a movie together.
Splash—
A droplet of coffee splashed onto Director Ki’s shirt as a paper cup was set down.
It wasn’t a problem. His wrinkle-free, crumpled shirt was already stained here and there.
It was astonishing how such a disheveled person could be so meticulous when it came to film-related matters.
“Corps de ballet! The Ballet Company is the biggest problem.”
While the main characters appearing in the practice room scenes would be cast separately, one or two performance scenes in the movie required a ballet company. It was impossible to hire dozens of ballerinas and start choreographing them now.
“The National Ballet flatly refused, and the Seoul Ballet Theater said they don’t have ‘Giselle’ in their current repertoire, so adding extra practice for it is out of the question…”
There apparently weren’t many ballet companies in the country that could handle traditional classical ballet. Ki Do-han was trying to persuade these troupes by emphasizing the ‘artistic quality of the film’ and the ‘promotion and elevation of the ballet company’s status,’ but it seemed difficult.
“We might really have to go all the way to Gwangju to shoot…”
They said the Gwangju City Ballet was the only one that sent a positive response. However, there were issues with location scouting there, so it was on hold.
Yet, even while discussing all of this, there was one ballet company Ki Do-han never mentioned. Had it not been for Seryeon, it would have been one of the most likely candidates.
Seryeon spoke up.
“What about Aurora?”
“…Ah… Aurora…”
It was the ballet company where she had been active until two years ago and the place from which she left, putting aside all her dreams.
No matter how ambitious Director Ki was about his film, he couldn’t possibly request them.
However…
“I’m okay with it.”
Seryeon straightened her head and looked straight ahead, a determined expression on her face.
“My father has been a long-time sponsor of the Aurora Ballet company. He might have some influence. If you make the proposal, I’ll ask him to steer things in a positive direction.”
After expressing her resolve, she looked at her ‘partner,’ who was seated next to her.
It would have been impossible without him.
He seemed like someone who had walked the path of a seemingly endless dark tunnel before.
He said, ‘Let’s find the way together.’
It was terrifying to imagine the pitiable look her former colleagues would give her and the progress they might have made in her absence, but she decided to face reality head-on.
To move forward.
He met her gaze and nodded.
*
“We’ve secured the Aurora Ballet Company!”
“We’ve started the storyboard work.”
“The casting for the supporting roles is complete.”
As the crank-in for March, which was one month away, approached, the director’s announcements became more frequent. The roles of the assistant director and the head of production increased as well.
“Are all the supporting actors ballet dancers as well?”
“Yes. There are limits to CG.”
In this film, the lead actress Seryeon and the supporting actor Yoomyeong couldn’t execute a complete ballet performance. Director Ki had said that they would use special effects to sync the doubles’ bodies with the actors after shooting.
Just imagining the work required to process effects for the leads alone was overwhelming.
“The special effects team… they really have to do a great job.”
To composite faces and bodies during dynamic movements was a highly complex task. Despite Yoomyeong’s concerns, Director Ki responded confidently.
“That’s not a problem. The VFX (Visual Effects) supervisor is a close friend of mine, and he’s the best technician in that field in this country. The real issue is the director of cinematography.”
“You haven’t found one yet?”
“I haven’t found a director of cinematography from Blue Film who matches the vision and texture I have in mind. I’m looking into various options, but…”
RRR—
At that moment, the phone rang.
“Yes. Senior. Yes. Really? Yes, we’re available anytime. Today? Yes, the location is…”
The excitement in his voice was palpable as he took the call.
After hanging up, he spoke with a voice filled with excitement.
“It’s the Director of Cinematography Choi Ruhan!”
“Wait… Isn’t he the partner of Director Shinhak?”
“Yes. He’s my senior from the Film Institute. I had asked him for a recommendation at a gathering, and he mentioned, almost jokingly, that he’s not on a shoot currently and is free. So, I simply showed him the rough storyboard.”
This guy was bolder than he looked.
“How did it go?”
“He looked through it and laughed, saying I’m attempting something too difficult. He wondered how many cinematographers in Korea could handle it. But during our recent call, he said he wanted to see the masks of the lead and supporting actors. He warned me not to get my hopes up since he hasn’t confirmed anything yet…”
“But when is he coming?”
“Uh… in about an hour? He said he’s leaving from Mangwon-dong now.”
“…”
Director Ki tried to suppress the grin that had yet to fade from his face.
“I’m confident that he’ll want to film you when he sees Yoomyeong and Seryeon. I believe in my choice!”
“Well, Director, why is it so sudden…? Sigh. Let’s practice, Yoomyeong.”
Seryeon pulled Yoomyeong by the arm, and they immediately started practicing. Watching them, Director Ki discreetly smiled and stepped outside the practice room.
He trusted his judgment.
Over the two months of practice, both actors had greatly improved in skill and chemistry.
That senior, although he often acted nonchalantly, was known for his immense passion for cinematography. Once he looked at the actors Ki Do-han chose, he’d definitely want to capture them on camera.
Unable to sit and wait, he kept checking his watch, pacing in front of the practice building.
*
“You’ve found some interesting actors.”
Choi Ruhan took out a cigarette, and Do-han quickly lit it with a lighter.
“What’s so interesting about them?”
“The lead actress is still a bit raw in her acting, but there’s something about her that captures people’s attention. She used to be a ballerina, right?”
“Yes, senior.”
“The elegance of her movements will make the shots artistically beautiful. And the guy playing the Phantom role… what did he use to do?”
“He’s an amateur who did theater in college. Surprisingly, he doesn’t really show any amateurish aspects.”
“You filmed them with the camcorder earlier.”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t notice it when he was standing still. But when he began to act… even though I took a full shot, it felt as if it was a close-up, so intensely focused.”
Ruhan’s eyes sparkled, and Do-han sneakily showed a triumphant smile.
“Sometimes, there are actors who seem to draw your gaze from beyond the camera even when they’re just standing still. But this friend didn’t show any signs of that until the very moment he started acting… Hmm, it’s fascinating.”
“He’s a good actor.”
“Hmm… Are you planning to submit this to film festivals?”
Yes! Do-han cheered internally at that comment.
“Yes, we’re considering various ones.”
“Will you match the pay I usually receive?”
“Of course!”
“I’ll address you as ‘Director’ on set. Prepare the contract and contact me.”
“Thank you, senior!”
“Don’t call me ‘senior,’ either.”
Ruhan waved his hand and briskly walked away.
And then, Do-han thought:
‘Now, this is the real beginning.’
*
April 1st, the crank-in for <Ballerina High>.
An indoor set replicating a ballet practice room.
The director of cinematography busily gave instructions to the assistants, holding the daily shot list. The assistant director led the staff with a lively voice, and the juniors of each department were constantly on the move.
There weren’t many locations for this film.
Most of the scenes were shot in the practice room, behind the stage, and on stage. The practice room set was an important backdrop, accounting for about 40% of the movie’s settings.
Yoomyeong didn’t appear in the practice room scenes, but he naturally showed up on set.
Seryeon’s acting wasn’t stable yet, and she heavily relied on the presence and support of Yoomyeong.
“Now, let’s all greet each other.”
Although it wasn’t as large as a commercial film, there was still a considerable number of staff members present.
There was the director, assistant director, production team, cinematography department, lighting crew, art department, costume and makeup team… and the actors.
Four people in total would frequently appear: from the lead and supporting actors to the dance doubles for them, including the role of Soobin, the male dancer who had a crush on Hwaran, and Yeonjeong, a junior female dancer whom Hwaran was jealous of.
Including the short role of the ballet artistic director and other ballerinas, about ten people greeted each other as ‘actors’.
“I will be giving directions, but if you have any uncertainties about acting, you can ask Shin Yoomyeong here.”
Director Ki informed the ballet dancers, who had limited acting experience, of the previously agreed-upon matter with Yoomyeong, and all eyes turned to him with surprise.
“I still have a lot to learn, but I’ll help as much as I can within my knowledge. Please feel comfortable around me.”
After the greetings were over, the assistant director stepped forward and raised his voice.
“Begin costume and makeup preparations, and we’ll start shooting Scene 2 in an hour! Staff, finalize preparations and stand by according to the shot list!”
“Yes—”
Finally, the shooting began.
Although they were ballet dancers with plenty of stage experience, they weren’t accustomed to ‘acting for the camera’. They didn’t even dare to do long takes. Even short clips were constantly interrupted by mistakes.
“NG! Look at the camera lens!”
“NG! You had the water bottle in your left hand in the previous shot. Now, it’s in your right hand!”
“Don’t move out of your mark!”
The piercing voice of the assistant director pointing out basic mistakes unrelated to acting echoed several times throughout the set.
The one struggling the most was Yoon Seryeon.
“Cut. Seryeon, once more. After overhearing the chatter of the other ballerinas, show a more surprised expression.”
“Cut. Please face the camera more directly.”
“Cut. At that point—”
“Cut—”
Director Ki, who was famous for being a perfectionist in his past life, extended the filming time endlessly when he encountered a novice actor.
It was pitiable to see Seryeon calmly trying again amidst the countless retakes for each cut.
“Cut— Okay, that’s a wrap for now. Thank you. We’ll resume in the afternoon.”
Perhaps because it was the first day or due to the halted progression of the shoot, a proper lunch break was given. Director Ki exhaled deeply as he conversed with the assistant director.
“The pace is too slow, isn’t it? We should have shot about seven to eight cuts, but we’ve only managed three.”
“It will probably improve over time. I think it’s because everyone is still not used to the camera.”
With those worries in mind, Yoomyeong approached Seryeon and offered her a water bottle. She was seated, drenched in sweat.
“Can you handle it?”
“It’s okay. It’s tough, but at least it doesn’t hurt.”
She had said that during her last year of ballet practice, it was the excruciating pain as if her toes were breaking that scared her more than the fatigue. She had even forgotten about that pain when she was deeply engrossed in dancing.
“It’s hard to capture emotions because the cuts are short, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. In ballet, emotions persist for several minutes to tens of minutes once you’re on stage, but in movies, the cuts are just a few seconds to a few minutes. It’s also challenging to be aware of the camera.”
“You’ll get used to it over time. The issue with emotions is how much Yoon Seryeon looks like Hwaran when captured by the camera. Since Hwaran represents sister’s ego in the role, it’s okay to just be yourself.”
After all, what Director Ki expected from Seryeon wasn’t ‘acting.’
Natural emotions from Yoon Seryeon were more than enough. This work was meant to pour her essence, which was sufficient for just one time.
“Just be myself…”
“Yes, be yourself. And about being conscious of the camera… umm… can you think of the camera as a ‘corps’ (dance ensemble)?”
“The camera as… a corps?”
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