Chapter 22: The Law of Transmitted Leg-Jiggling Anxiety

July 15th.

Kang Jae-hoon, who had been lingering on the film set for half a month, finally arrived at the day his own scenes were to be shot.

Under normal circumstances, actors who are not leads only need to join the production when their specific scenes are scheduled. For instance, when *Ode to My Father* began filming at the start of 2013, leads like Hwang Jung-min and Oh Dal-su had to follow the crew to various locations throughout the entire process. Meanwhile, supporting actors like Ra Mi-ran only needed to report to the set when filming was taking place in Busan.

As for why Kang Jae-hoon had been doing odd jobs on the set of *Man in Love* since the very first day, it was primarily because he believed that the practical performance experience gained on set was far more valuable than the theoretical knowledge found in books. It was absolutely not because he had nothing to do—definitely not.

At the filming site in Sinchon-dong, a ceiling fan creaked, stirring the viscous July air. The director called the three of them over to the monitor.

"This scene sets the stage for the female lead to later discover that Han Tae-il has lost the deposit on a bet, leading to a heated argument between the two."

"We will shoot this in two time segments."

"First shot: Morning—Joo Ho-jung needs to check her watch periodically, adjust her hair and skirt, carrying the expectation that 'he will be here soon,' while clutching her phone, ready to answer at any moment."

"Second shot: Noon—Include small signs of anxiety like swallowing or licking lips. Keep the phone on her lap, occasionally lighting up the screen, and finally gripping the edges of the phone until her knuckles turn white."

"Third shot: Dusk—The body remains completely still, but the eyes follow passing vehicles rapidly, and her fingers dig desperately into the strap of her bag."

"I want you to express the layers of this scene: the transition from sheer joy to suspicion, agitation, anger, and finally, a feeling of coldness spreading through the body. Is that understood?"

Han Hye-jin rested her lower back against the cold metal frame of a folding chair, nodding as she listened to the creaking sound of the crew dragging the camera dolly. She had been in the industry for eleven years, after all. If she couldn't understand such detailed direction, she might as well retire and go home to raise children.

"Young Kang."

Kang Jae-hoon quickly looked up. "Director, I'm here."

Han Dong-wook turned to look at him. "You are a firefighter walking a tightrope—the landlord’s anger on the left is already burning at 90 degrees Celsius, and the female lead's anxiety on the right is turning to ice. You must use precise movements to keep the temperature on both sides exactly one degree below the critical point of explosion."

Kang Jae-hoon: "..."

*Am I Japanese? Why is he giving me such abstract acting advice?*

"Pfft..."

Han Hye-jin’s laughter sounded as if a mute button had been pressed. Han Dong-wook froze, his hand holding the storyboard suspended in mid-air. He suddenly realized he had turned his acting guidance for Kang Jae-hoon into a physics lecture.

"Ahem..." Han Dong-wook gave a light cough. "First shot, morning: The landlord shows impatience by checking his watch and tapping his fingers on the table."

"As for you, Kang, when the landlord checks his watch for the third time, immediately get up to pour tea. The spout must point toward the landlord to show respect. Keep your body positioned between the landlord and the female lead to act as a physical buffer zone."

"Second shot, noon: The landlord loosens his tie or undoes the top button of his shirt. You hand him a mint. Peel back half of the plastic wrapper before handing it over to minimize his need to lift his hand."

"Director!" Kang Jae-hoon suddenly raised his hand.

"Speak."

"Can I change the action of handing over the mint in the second shot? Could I pretend to answer a phone call to create competitive anxiety for the landlord?"

"For example?"

Kang Jae-hoon immediately adopted a gesture of answering a phone. "Aigoo, President Kim! What? You want to lower the shop rent by 20%? But the client I have here is already..." He looked up at Han Dong-wook, trailing off.

Han Dong-wook stared at him for a moment, then suddenly snapped his fingers. "Accepted."

Just as Kang Jae-hoon’s mouth curled up by two millimeters, he was brought back to reality by a mint flicked against the back of his head by Hwang Jung-min.

"Third shot," Han Dong-wook continued. "The landlord throws his keys onto the table. The sound of metal hitting the surface should make Joo Ho-jung flinch. You should guide him with a fawning expression: 'Look, it’s already this late; if you leave now, the whole day of waiting will have been for nothing.'"

Kang Jae-hoon rubbed the edge of his notebook, thoughtful. "Director-nim, can I have half of a hospital bill sticking out of my trouser pocket?"

"Reason?"

"If the audience sees it, they might understand why the agent is helping the female lead stall for time." As he spoke, he used his index finger to hook the edge of his pocket, simulating the curve of paper sliding out. "He needs this commission to pay the bill."

Han Dong-wook squinted at his pocket, then suddenly grinned, revealing nicotine-stained teeth. "Not bad, kid!" He reached out and patted Kang Jae-hoon’s shoulder. "As meticulous as your teacher."

"...Thank you."

Just then, a crew member tapped on the iron ladder. "Director Han, the lighting crew is ready."

Han Dong-wook rolled up his script and clapped it against his palm. "Actors, walk through the blocking three times, then we film."

"Yes."

Kang Jae-hoon tugged at his tight necktie; the collar rubbed against a patch of sunburned skin on the back of his neck, making him wince in pain.

"How did you get that?" Han Hye-jin asked, pointing at his neck.

"Sunburned while doing fieldwork during my internship at the real estate agency," Kang Jae-hoon explained, lightly touching his neck.

"You went to intern at a real estate agency just for this scene?"

"Yes."

A flicker of surprise crossed Han Hye-jin’s eyes. Times had changed; nowadays, new actors all dreamed of becoming big stars based on a single role. In such a fickle environment, an actor like Kang Jae-hoon, willing to agonize over a few lines for a month, was a truly rare species.

"Remember to wear sunscreen next time." Han Hye-jin offered this blunt advice as a sign of her approval.

"Thank you, Senior." Kang Jae-hoon didn't think much of it; his mind was entirely focused on reviewing the notes Han Dong-wook had just given him.

A moment later, the crew member held the clapperboard in front of the lens.

" *Man in Love*, Scene 56, Take 1, Mark 1!"

*Clap!*

Sunlight sliced through the blinds, casting a dense grid of light over the plastic tea set. Han Hye-jin sat on a chipped plastic chair in a beige knit sweater, the screen of the phone in her palm lighting up and going dark repeatedly.

The landlord’s index finger tapped the table unhurriedly. "How much longer?"

"It should... be soon."

The camera panned from the pale, gripped fingertips of Han Hye-jin to a close-up of Kang Jae-hoon’s face—his hair was meticulously groomed, and his cordial smile was enough to unconsciously win favor.

"The two of you, please try some new tea from Jeju Island."

Kang Jae-hoon stood up the exact moment the landlord lifted his wrist to check his watch. As he bent over to pour the tea, the tension in his shoulders caused the fabric of his suit to crease, his body acting like a wall between Han Hye-jin and the landlord. The arc of the tea pouring into the cup was impossibly steady, and the steam climbed up the landlord’s loosened tie.

"Cut!"

Every movement, line of dialogue, and subtle facial expression in this shot had been executed exactly as Director Han Dong-wook had envisioned. Consequently, the scene was completed perfectly in one take.

However, they shot a safety take.

The second shot, set at noon, was filmed using lighting adjustments. Because they were shooting in chronological order, the narrative continuity was high, allowing the actors' emotions to flow seamlessly into the next sequence.

There was a small interlude, though. Before the actual take for the second shot, Han Hye-jin communicated with Kang Jae-hoon about an improvised performance detail: "In a moment, when you pretend to answer the phone, I’ll coordinate by shaking my leg."

"Shaking your leg?" Kang Jae-hoon asked, puzzled.

"Anxiety is contagious." Han Hye-jin suddenly crossed her legs, her heels tapping against the floor tiles—*tap, tap*. "Like this. Understand?"

Kang Jae-hoon mimicked the shaking of her knee, looking like an electrocuted frog.

"No, you don't need to shake. I mean, I will use the leg-shaking motion to convey my psychological anxiety to you. Once you receive my shift in emotion, you can use that as your cue to pretend to answer the phone."

"Ah! I understand!"

The reason highly-rated films are held in such high regard is often because of the addition of many seemingly insignificant details. The body language Han Hye-jin proposed—using a shaking leg to transmit anxiety—created a perfect closed loop for Kang Jae-hoon’s improvised phone call, effectively manufacturing anxiety for the landlord.

Therefore, this shot was also completed smoothly.

As for the final shot—which was also Kang Jae-hoon's last scene—they would have to wait until dusk to film it.