“…….”
The first day of filming for the movie.
Seoyeon stared in shock at the large pig’s head set before her.
“Alright, Seoyeon. It’s your turn.”
“Ah, yes.”
Seoyeon, together with a few other actors, paid respects by bowing deeply to the pig’s head.
There is a common practice in the film and drama industry where a ceremonial offering is made before filming begins. This is a kind of event held to wish for the success of the film or drama.
Because Seoyeon had never experienced this while working on The Moon That Hid the Sun, she found it quite refreshing.
‘A pig’s head…’
The sight of the pig’s head, looking back at her with what seemed like a smirk, left her feeling oddly disturbed, reminding her somewhat of the creature she once saw in King’s Quest.
‘Could it be that I’m just easily scared?’
Seoyeon had never before considered herself someone with fragile mental fortitude. Yet, the fear she felt this time was so intense that it left a lasting impression.
Though it would likely subside with time, for now, this was the state of her mind.
“Seoyeon, are you feeling okay?”
“Yes.”
At Park Eun-ha’s, her manager’s, inquiry, Seoyeon nodded her head. To the outside observer, Seoyeon appeared completely calm, showing no change in expression. The slight wavering of her eyes was the only indication of her reaction to the pig’s head.
‘Certainly…’
Park Eun-ha looked intently at Seoyeon. Indeed, actors truly were something different. Especially gifted ones even more so.
She was reminded of Hwang Min-hwa, whom she previously managed. Hwang had an aura of sophistication and a commanding presence that would overwhelm others.
Thus, speaking freely or confidently to her was often difficult; it was easy to feel overpowered.
Seoyeon, on the other hand, was different.
“You might have a long day of filming, so feel free to rest in the van.”
For all her seemingly unapproachable appearance, Park Eun-ha was actually remarkably kind – a stark contrast to Hwang Min-hwa, whose image was not typically of someone approachable.
‘I thought Seoyeon would be similar to Hwang Min-hwa…’
At their first meeting, Park Eun-ha had been struck by Seoyeon’s expressionless, emotion-obscuring face, which reminded her of a lifeless doll.
But there was more. Beyond the surface, much like Hwang Min-hwa, Seoyeon possessed an aura that transcended even that – the presence of a prodigious child actor.
As if to prove that her ‘genius child actor’ title was no exaggeration, Seoyeon carried an undeniable magnetism, different from the sophisticated air Hwang Min-hwa exuded.
It was captivating and overwhelming, something that drew attention. Perhaps this was the most important quality an actor should possess.
Moreover, when Seoyeon acted, her entire demeanor would swiftly transform. Park Eun-ha remembered the awe she felt when she first observed Hwang Min-hwa up close but, somehow, Seoyeon brought something even greater to the table.
‘That must be why even Hwang Min-hwa couldn’t easily mess around with things.’
Top actors, like Hwang Min-hwa, often had sharp intuition. She could instinctively distinguish between those destined for success and those who wouldn’t make it.
Seoyeon clearly passed that test in Hwang Min-hwa’s eyes. So the experienced actress only pretended to be a friendly big sister, masking her true self.
“It’s fine. I’ll stay here and watch over you. Where else would the manager go?”
“Hmm, it seems fine.”
“Concentrate on the filming.”
With a smile, Park Eun-ha expressed her support.
The Chaser was Seoyeon’s first movie. And curiously, its release date coincided with the release of a Hwang Min-hwa movie, Utopia. While The Chaser was backed by GH Group, Utopia was a colossal investment by another major group, perhaps even more capital-heavy when you considered foreign funding alongside domestic.
The director’s reputation lent a slight edge to The Chaser, but Utopia had an undeniable star-studded cast. While The Chaser wasn’t exactly small in scale, Utopia was a top-tier blockbuster.
‘Even so…’
Watching Seoyeon warm up, Park Eun-ha silently prayed. Surely, Seoyeon would surpass Hwang Min-hwa. She truly believed in that.
“Today’s scene is where Detective Im Seung-cheol spots the murderer, Cha Sooah, trying to escape by chance.”
This was Scene Number 30. After encountering the detectives at the bus stop, Cha Sooah meets them again during a night patrol, marking the first meeting between the detective and the killer.
‘They’re not filming the scenes in order, I see.’
Upon hearing it was Scene Number 30, Seoyeon checked her physical condition. She hadn’t expected that running would be involved on her first day of filming.
Each director has their unique filming style. Gong Jung-tae from The Moon That Hid the Sun always filmed scenes in order, but Bae Jin-hwan, the director of The Chaser, preferred to select the most appropriate scene for the day based on actors’ conditions. Alternatively, he often tackled the more demanding scenes first.
Judging by today’s scene, it was likely to be the latter.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Seoyeon? Really, no need for a stunt double?”
“I’m fine.”
Generally, female actors used doubles for scenes requiring physical exertion, not just action but also to maintain a pretty appearance on screen. Such scenes requiring speed, like this chase sequence, were especially important.
Cha Sooah would wear a hoodie or a raincoat, disguising her identity, making it an ideal setup for using a double.
“Well, let me know if you need to switch.”
“Alright.”
Though today’s run wasn’t too strenuous, it was significant as it represented Cha Sooah’s fourth murder. Detective Im Seung-cheol finally encounters her as she makes her escape from the scene.
“Ahhh, tough stuff even on the first day.”
“Exactly, tough at the start, easier later.”
A crew member using local dialect made comments nearby.
‘This will be hard work.’
A crew member who knew Bae Jin-hwan’s style well shook his head as he glanced at Seoyeon. Bae was a perfectionist. He had a clear vision in mind, so scenes were often retaken until they matched his expectations.
Even actors who were initially eager to perform stunts themselves often found themselves worn out. Physical stunts, if done poorly, only detracted from the quality of the film. A poorly executed run by a criminal? Unacceptable to Bae Jin-hwan.
Especially since this was a night shoot. Although it was a convenient filming time for Seoyeon, who had school, it was grueling for other crew members.
‘We might have to film through the night today if things don’t go well.’
This wasn’t a question of acting ability; just handing it off to a stunt double might be better. But if the actor really wanted to do it, what could they do?
“Get the slate!”
The youngest assistant director held up the slate, marking the start of the scene. Soon after, the “standby” call echoed, and sound and camera teams confirmed their readiness. Bae Jin-hwan directed his gaze towards the filming location: the alley.
Two actors were present for this scene: Joo Soo-yen as Cha Sooah and Kim Dae-heon as Detective Im Seung-cheol.
‘Finally…’
As the director observed the two actors, he took a deep breath. Even seasoned directors experienced nerves. Surprisingly, GH Group had granted Bae Jin-hwan complete creative control. He was free to choose his own cast of actors, even though they weren’t necessarily the biggest stars.
Kim Dae-heon was known for his strong acting abilities but wasn’t exactly a seasoned leading man. Most of his roles were villains, with a few historical dramas featuring him as generals. However, Bae Jin-hwan believed in his latent talent and potential. It was his job to draw that out.
‘And then there’s Joo Soo-yen…’
Her resume was dominated by her work as a child actor. In the casting team’s discussions, some expressed doubt, wondering if giving such a heavy role to an actor with only two credits was wise. Despite strong nods to her acting prowess, the higher-ups were swayed by numbers.
Her one hit drama saw her for just three episodes, and her theatrical success only made them scoff.
Ultimately, to them, it was all about box office appeal and how much money an actor could bring in. Thanks to the impact of her recent work, Looking Back at the Past, she had been selected for the project. Even so, to those making the final call, Seoyeon was essentially an untested lottery ticket.
‘Yeah, a lottery ticket.’
Though appealing, the odds of winning a lottery are generally low. The potential for a huge return exists, but the more likely outcome is a loss.
‘I go by what I see.’
The performance of Hong Jeong-hee in Eyes Closed and of Seoyeon during the script reading session. That moment of brilliance.
“Action!!”
S#30
The first chase scene.
This was the moment The Chaser lived up to its name. Under the dim glow of moonlit night, filming began.
CLANG!!
The pile of garbage beside the utility pole collapsed with a crash. Detective Im Seung-cheol hastily glanced around, chasing after recent murder leads.
“Where? Where are you?”
He glanced down at his old phone, checking the time of the initial report. It had been a late-night call to the police station, a panicked voice warning someone had broken into their house. Before the address could be given, screams filled the line.
Awakening his sleeping partner was out of the question as Im Seung-cheol rushed into the dark alleyways. Somewhere nearby was the address given by the victim.
Mangwon-ro 49-gil.
Through the countless rows of houses, Im Seung-cheol ran, searching blindly for the source. It had been more than ten minutes since the report.
It could already be too late, but he shook the thought from his mind.
Turning another narrow corner,
“…”
He saw someone in a yellow raincoat. Why were they wearing it on such a dry night?
Their slight build made guessing their gender impossible. Their presence, almost blending into the darkness, was eerie.
Detective Im Seung-cheol’s eyes widened, the streaks of red across the yellow raincoat obvious – blood.
Whose?
The answer was all too clear.
“You little…!”
With a roar reverberating through the alley, Detective Im Seung-cheol ran towards the figure, jumping over scattered trash strewn across his path. The suspect turned, having already disposed of the weapon.
A physical confrontation was out of the question given the apparent size difference. They chose to flee.
And…
“…?”
The chase suddenly halted—not because Detective Im Seung-cheol stopped, but Kim Dae-heon, playing the role, had paused, taken aback.
“Wasn’t it exactly because of that speed that they haven’t been caught yet?”
The runner, Seoyeon, was so fast it was astonishing.
“Cut! Cutcutcut!!”
Director Bae Jin-hwan called urgently, addressing the now vanished Seoyeon down the alley.
“Seoyeon, could you please… slow down a bit?”
The criminal should escape, yes, but within reason.
“Have you done athletics before, Seoyeon?”
“No, not at all.”
Even though Seoyeon denied it, the thought crossed many minds why they didn’t opt for a stunt double.
“Well, let’s try it again with better synchronization!”
Clapping his hands, Bae Jin-hwan rallied the team, and the reshoot began.
Everyone was tense following Seoyeon’s incredible sprint.
“That scene was fantastic.”
“Perfectly captured.”
S#30.
With everyone’s approval, the filming wrapped up.
The night was far from lost; it concluded in the blink of an eye.
Marking the iconic first chase scene of The Chaser*, Director Bae Jin-hwan couldn’t help but smile, satisfied with such a successful start.
