Anthem Magazine

Played with masterful restraint, Lee Byung-hun’s masked protagonist, known as The Front Man, has stalked the edges of Squid Game since its debut—the coolly enigmatic figure who oversees the show’s merciless contest with a disturbing sense of detachment. He’s a man hollowed by tragedy whose only apparent joy is his unnerving devotion to procedure. But in seasons two and three, and especially in the series finale released on June 27, the character steps ever further into the spotlight, revealing new dimensions of sorrow, cynicism, and maybe even a lingering sliver of moral conflict.

Elsewhere, Lee, one of the South Korea’s most celebrated movie stars of the last two decades, takes the spotlight at this year’s Bucheon International Fantastic Film Festival (BIFAN)—Asia’s premier destination where genre fare is concerned. BIFAN’s annual actor retrospective explores the current state of Korean cinema through the career of one of its defining figures, and for its 29th edition, in what’s been aptly titled The Master: Lee Byung-hun, Lee reflects on his acting journey.

The retrospective honors the actor’s unparalleled versatility and global presence with the screening of ten films that are most representative of his iconic works. Carefully curated by Lee himself, the selections include Joint Security Area and I Saw the Devil. In parallel, a special exhibition provides a multidimensional look at Lee’s filmography through photographs, video clips, and personal memorabilia. A commemorative book has also been published to coincide with this retrospective.

The 29th Bucheon International Fantastic Film Festival runs from July 3 –13.

[Editors note: The following interview has been translated, condensed, and edited for clarity.]

Your retrospective has been aptly titled The Master by the festival. But in thinking about so many of the iconic roles that you’ve inhabited, including that of The Front Man, maybe The Monster is just as fitting. Is it true that your son once asked you, “Why are you so mean?”

[laughs] Actually, there are very few movies I can show my son. So far, he’s only seen about three of my movies. Most of them are R-rated. They’re too violent, and much too stimulating. Because of that, I’ve only shown him small clips and, again, he’s only seen the entirety of maybe three of my movies. When the Netflix animation Kpop Demon Hunters came along, I thought, “Ah, I can show this to him.” We watched it together. But the thing with that is, he kept asking, “Which one is you?” And I told him, “Dad is the king of the demons.” Then, with a tremendously disappointed look, he said, “I don’t want to watch this anymore.” So I explained to him that it’s acting and it’s a character. But then he asks why I always play demons, or The Front Man type roles. I guess it hurt him a bit because, deep down, he probably wishes that his dad would play nicer, good person roles.

Since Squid Game has now concluded with season three, I would love to take you back to the beginning of that particular journey. What were your initial feelings about this show? 

I’ve always thought that director Huang Dong-hyuk is a truly genius storyteller, and because it was a story created by such a genius storyteller, it was obviously interesting. But when I first read the script for Squid Game, it seemed so experimental. I thought, “This will either totally flop or be a huge success.” I just remember thinking it was a huge gamble. On the other hand, it contains all kinds of current issues—social, political, and economic. I felt that Squid Game was almost like a condensed version of today’s world. So even though it was based on very traditional Korean children’s games that I used to play when I was little, and despite the cultural and language barriers, the fact that people all over the world embraced it and enjoyed it so much made me think that these issues are ones that we’re all sharing in and experiencing. And I believe that the biggest theme of this entire story—the aspect that we should all reflect on and share in—is the issue of humanity. I think the absence of humanity is something that people all over the world are now deeply and urgently feeling together. That’s why we can all become so fully immersed in this work.

Rarely, things turn into phenomenons.  

I was really surprised, too. Squid Game is currently number one globally. And Kpop Demon Hunters is also number one in the animation category. I always wonder how this happens. With Kpop Demon Hunters, years ago when we were in the US, Sony Pictures had contacted us. We had meetings at their headquarters in LA with the people planning the project. They said they were trying to create an animation like this and asked what we thought. Of course, K-pop wasn’t as globally popular then as it is now. But Sony Pictures wanted to develop a story based around that as a theme. At the time, there was some doubt about how many people worldwide would actually be interested in the story when it hits a streaming service. At which point I saw reference drawings for the first time. Around 20 years ago, I had done dubbing work for a Korean animation. Back then, I only saw the finished product. This time, they showed me the rough sketches to explain the overall feeling of it. Looking at those sketches, I couldn’t imagine what the final animation would look like because this was my first time learning about this kind of process. I thought, “Why are these drawings so poorly done?” [laughs] “This won’t work. They should draw better.” So during those meetings, I was a bit worried. I didn’t know that the final product would turn out this way. In any case, I decided to participate. We recorded in a studio in Korea. We split it over a few days because we had to do the dubbing in English. That was a big challenge for me—expressing all the subtle nuances and emotions in English. The director and producers told me to do it with this nuance, that nuance, and we repeated the process many times. Now, seeing people so enthusiastic about the result, I find it unbelievable. It’s such a happy and exciting thing. As for K-pop, while I’m aware of its status and how great it is, I’m still very surprised by its impact around the world.

On a different note, some directors have said in the past that you’re the only actor in action movies worth shooting in close-up because you have the goods. Have you heard that before?

No.

No?

I’m hearing this for the first time today. [laughs]

You receive that kind of praise often. You’re an actor who can be forgiven for anything. You think, “He’s scary good.” That’s another reason to rename this retrospective The Monster.

Hearing such kind things said about me, I feel overwhelmed and emotional. Ever since I heard that BIFAN would be holding a special retrospective on me, I’ve been feeling that way. I feel humbled, and humbled again. Hearing these compliments makes me incredibly happy and grateful. But at the same time, I honestly feel a bit embarrassed. This retrospective is such a huge honor for me. It’s the kind of thing that makes me wonder if something like this will ever happen again in my life. That’s how meaningful it is. It also makes me feel a little unsure of myself. Did I really do enough in my career to deserve this? When I was younger, I vaguely remember seeing legendary veteran actors who had dedicated their lives to the craft receive retrospectives based on the works they had poured everything into. I’d think to myself, “Wow… They focused on one path so deeply. Could I ever become like that someday?” That memory came back to me. Now that that day has come for me, as an actor, I feel a real sense of pride and fulfillment in this moment. I hope that, thirty years from now, if I’m invited back for another retrospective at BIFAN, I would consider it a great honor.

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Three decades is impressive. It’s quite the body of work. How did you choose ten films?

It wasn’t anything particularly special. I simply chose from the ones I liked the most and felt most meaningful to me in my career up until now. Since I had to select ten films, I wanted to showcase a variety of genres and a balance of different characters. That was basically the approach I took.

In those three decades, you’ve seen a lot. Now, there’s a lot of talk about crisis when it comes to preserving cinema. What do you think the future of film looks like? 

Whenever I see the filmmakers I work with now, a topic that never fails to come up is the current crisis in cinema. The crisis of movie theaters. One thing is clear: The crisis is definitely real. At the same time, the advantages we gain through streaming are obvious, too. If you look at Squid Game, K-pop movies, and many other Korean dramas, now they’re not only popular in Korea but in many other countries as well. In the past, the dream for all Korean filmmakers was to ultimately make it in Hollywood—to express their creativity there and surprise the world. Most people probably thought that way. But now, it’s a different era. Now, if a great story is told and a fantastic work is created anywhere in the world, that moment can surpass Hollywood films in the way it reaches audiences globally. And if it’s a great work, the impact and success can be enormous. From that perspective, even though movie theaters and films are currently facing difficulties, new methods or solutions might emerge to help us find a way forward. That hopeful thought crosses my mind sometimes. Ultimately, no matter how much I discuss this with filmmakers, I don’t think we’re going to find an easy answer yet. I think this is a process that will unfold over time.

Perhaps there are certainties in what’s more personal: What did you wish for yourself at the start of your career, and how much of your current situation resembles that past dream? 

If I were to speak grandly and broadly, it feels like some kind of a revolution. Having worked in film for over 30 years, I think about that sometimes. It still doesn’t quite feel real to me. There’s this exhibition now, and younger colleagues will call me “teacher.” Well, no one actually calls me teacher, but it’s like I’ve become a mentor since I was a young actor. That’s the situation. But it still doesn’t feel real. I feel a bit of a disconnect. As I said, in 10, 20, 30 years from now, I hope that I will be able to show you an even bigger exhibition at BIFAN. That’s a hopeful thought I have.

If you could speak as a mentor, what is the most important thing for an actor to master?

I briefly mentioned this yesterday at the opening ceremony, but I think empathy is probably the most essential virtue for actors. There are so many different kinds of people in the world, and each person’s situation is unique. Everyone’s different. And because you never know what kind of role you will be given, it’s important to always have broad empathy. Approach people. Observe them carefully. I don’t know if all actors do this, but in my case, rather than using the word “explore,” I think about it more as observation. I observe people and wonder why they developed certain habits, why they feel a certain way, and why they have strange or unique physical mannerisms. And the truth is, there’s no definitive answer—unless you ask the person directly. But I keep speculating and guessing inside of myself, and through that process, I find a kind of answer. Of course, it’s not the absolute truth, but I gain a conviction inside of me.