I Acted Once, and Now They Call Me a Genius - Chapter 255
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 255
The audition results were largely as expected.
For the role of Jun-seo, it went to Seon-woo. Ye-chan had also auditioned for the same part, but…….
“……Getting a role in Cheongseong is really tough.”
Ye-chan simply couldn’t compete against Seon-woo.
In the end, Ye-chan had to accept his loss with a downcast expression.
And In-hee, as everyone had anticipated, fell to Yu-ran. Though other troupe members had applied for the role, they were overwhelmed by her acting ability—she never stood a chance against such commanding presence.
‘This should be fun.’
Seon-woo’s eyes gleamed.
He’d only glimpsed Yu-ran’s performance briefly, but even that was enough to see how much depth she possessed as an actress.
The way she wielded the Fourth Wall so deftly…… it was a style he’d never witnessed from any other actor he’d met before.
‘I’ll learn a lot from her.’
He had high expectations for her.
She seemed like someone who could genuinely expand his world.
The roles of Min-jae and Ga-hyun, the long-term couple, went to Hye-seong and Min-hee respectively.
“Ah, Min-hee should’ve been paired with Seon-woo…….”
“……Why are you still clinging to that dead ship? It makes you look old.”
“What can I do? I’m practically forty tomorrow.”
“Exactly! So why are you still doing this when you’re almost forty?”
They continued their bickering as before.
Yet their rhythm was already perfectly synchronized—you could see it in every exchange.
And then there was the final couple, Jong-seok and Se-mi, who had only just begun their love story….
“I’ll do my best!”
That role had gone to Ye-chan and Yang So-ra.
For a part that needed fresh, youthful energy, they were perfect casting.
And finally, the bachelor Chang-seop had attracted quite a few contenders.
Among the notable ones were Do-young, Jae-won, Senior Jin-wook, and Eun-seok.
And the result was, well—forgive the bluntness—inevitable.
“This is straight-up a force of nature.”
It was Do-young.
Eun-seok let out a sigh as he watched him.
“I finally do something for Cheongseong in years, and somehow I get paired with this monster?”
“……’Monster’? Come on, that’s harsh.”
“It’s the truth. I really thought you wouldn’t show up if the role was Chang-seop…….”
Eun-seok stopped mid-sentence as he looked at Do-young’s face, then sighed with understanding.
“But honestly…… you fit it perfectly.”
“……What do you mean?”
“You don’t look cut out for marriage at all. Your face is basically that of a lifelong bachelor.”
No matter how hard he tried to think of it, it didn’t sound like a compliment.
Do-young narrowed his eyes but didn’t retort. Now wasn’t the time for that.
Ji-hwan clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention.
“Alright, the auditions are done. I’m sure some people are disappointed, but the results are what they are. Let’s all work hard going forward. Anyone unhappy with the casting?”
The casting was too perfectly matched for anyone to seriously complain.
They’d all shown such impressive acting ability to begin with.
Though troupe members who’d gone into broadcasting had secured roles, they’d simply lost on skill—so no one had grounds to argue.
It was obvious to anyone.
That the broadcast actors would deliver a far superior performance.
Yu-ran glanced back at the troupe members and let out a short laugh.
“You’re always stuck to the theater, so how are you losing at theater acting?”
“……We didn’t lose at theater acting—we just lost in acting ability overall.”
“Exactly. Even if your skills were lacking, you should’ve compensated by using the stage itself more effectively. I watched you earlier—you were performing like it was a broadcast. That won’t do. You’re all going to train in Viewpoint Practice with me from now on.”
“Ugh…….”
Watching Yu-ran, Seon-woo thought to himself.
I’d love to do that training too.
But there wasn’t time for that now. Preparing the stage for the Theater Grand Competition wasn’t that generous in schedule. <Theater Grand Competition>
‘Even if we don’t place first…….’
He wanted to avoid eighth place at all costs.
If Cheongseong was eliminated at the point of his performance and left out, he’d have no face to show the troupe members.
And for that sake, he needed to focus on rehearsal right now—
“Hmm, definitely.”
Yu-ran paired up with Seon-woo for a scene, and not long after, she frowned with dissatisfaction.
Specifically at everyone, including Seon-woo.
“You’ve all eaten too much broadcast work. You’re relying way too heavily on facial expression acting.”
“……Is that true?”
“Yeah. Seriously.”
Do-young gave a wry smile at Yu-ran’s words.
If there was one crucial difference between theater acting and broadcast acting, it was the importance of facial expression work.
On broadcast, the camera captures every minute shift in an actor’s expression.
But theater is different.
Depending on distance, even facial features often don’t register properly in the audience’s view.
For that reason, emotion in theater had to be expressed necessarily through movement, not expression.
All of them, in fact, had performed in that style when they were with Cheongseong.
But it had been years since they’d started doing broadcast work. No matter how hard they tried otherwise, they naturally gravitated toward expression-based acting.
Yu-ran folded her arms.
“Look, we’re doing broadcast work now, but the foundation is still theater. I’d appreciate it if everyone focused a bit more on that.”
“……You’re right, I wasn’t paying enough attention. I’m sorry, Yu-ran.”
“No, don’t apologize. I’m just asking everyone to be more aware of it.”
Min-hee immediately bowed her head.
She also felt it—during her time away from Cheongseong, her acting style had shifted quite considerably.
Hye-seong gave a wry smile.
“It’s funny. I’ve been in theater my whole life, but just stepping away for two years and my style changed like this?”
“Don’t take it personally. I wasn’t trying to criticize you for doing broadcast work.”
Yu-ran laughed at Hye-seong’s comment.
Then she turned to Ji-hwan.
“But Director, have you heard anything about the camera angles for this Grand Competition?”
Yu-ran’s eyes narrowed.
It was actually a crucial point. Even wearing the mask of theater, if cameras kept close-focusing on their faces…… what would actually differ from broadcast work?
“You don’t need to worry about that.”
Ji-hwan understood what Yu-ran was concerned about. He spoke calmly.
“There are four points: one frontal, one from each side, and one overhead gimbal shot from above. From what I’ve heard, they have no intention of adding close-ups of your faces.”
“So they’re filming to capture the same perspective as the audience would see from their seats.”
“Exactly.”
Ji-hwan nodded.
“And that’s the right call. Otherwise actors would never know whether to perform for the camera or for the audience, and that makes acting incredibly difficult.”
“……That’s impressive. I didn’t expect them to preserve the theater experience so carefully.”
Yu-ran expressed her genuine admiration.
From a variety show producer’s standpoint, there was no real need to go that far. Limited angles meant viewers could get bored more easily.
It showed real respect for theater.
This only made the weight on their shoulders heavier. The viewership rating depended entirely on how good a performance they could deliver.
Ji-hwan clapped his hands to gather everyone’s attention.
“Alright, we have three weeks. In three weeks, all eight theater troupes will perform simultaneously. And when we perform…… it’ll be broadcast live via live streaming.”
“Live streaming?”
“Yes. We’ll be evaluated based on both the score from the audience evaluation panel on-site and the live stream viewer count. Then that same evening…… we’ll go to the studio to film the judging announcement scene.”
“……And it airs the following week.”
“Right.”
Ji-hwan looked at everyone with weary eyes.
“Honestly, whether this program will succeed or not…… I don’t know yet. Well, with all these accomplished actors participating, it’ll naturally generate buzz, but whether that translates to mass appeal is another matter entirely.”
Ji-hwan wet his dry lips and turned to his troupe members.
“I’m not going to give you some clichéd speech about ‘win first place’ or ‘don’t place eighth.’ I might not be in a position to say this as a director, but…… I don’t think this opportunity belongs only to Cheongseong. Rather, I see it as an opportunity for our entire theater world. So…… I really hope you’ll do well.”
A sincere voice always carries weight.
So all the troupe members sat quietly, eyes fixed on Ji-hwan. They all knew how genuinely committed he was to the troupe and to theater itself.
“I don’t know if Korea will ever get another chance like this. This might be our first and last opportunity—that thought alone depresses me. So I want you to show people what theater really is. That it’s this joyful, this entertaining. Not boring or outdated like they think. I want you to teach them that.”
Ji-hwan bowed his head.
“I’m asking you.”
That plea sank deep into everyone’s hearts.
That’s probably why everyone stayed in the practice room despite the late hour.
While everyone else practiced in front of the mirror, Seon-woo sat lost in thought, script in hand.
‘Maybe I didn’t have enough resolve.’
Actually, Seon-woo’s reason for joining this project had been simple.
It looked fun.
He just wanted to do theater again after a long time. And for some reason, the prospect of performing alongside Do-young after so long seemed genuinely exciting.
But after hearing Ji-hwan’s words just now, he realized he couldn’t approach this with such a light mindset.
Right now, Seon-woo wasn’t just representing the Cheongseong troupe members…… he was representing theater artists themselves. His failure would be theater’s failure, and his success would be theater’s success.
And naturally,
‘……I’ll make it work.’
Seon-woo had no intention of failing.
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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