[Limelight] The Power to Make Even Rough and Tough Characters Relatable

Btv Talk Concert 'Filmotalk' Meets Actress Han Ji-min
Portrays Both the Wounded Loner and Savior in 'Miss Baek'
"A Woman with No Memory of Someone Holding Her Hand, Slowly Receiving Comfort"
"Trying to Show Emotions She Wants to Ignore but Can't Help Noticing"
"Finding the Courage to Face Her Past Within That Frame"

In the film Miss Baek (2018), Baek Sang-ah (Han Ji-min) is anything but ordinary. Her hair bleached yellow and clad in a black leather jacket, smoke from a cigarette slips through her lips painted with red lipstick. When the hazy aura fades, a fierce gaze emerges. Her skin feels as cold and hard as armor, making her seem cold-blooded. It is the mark of a sorrowful fate. As a child, she was abused by her mother and fell into an abyss. Though she barely escaped, she became a loner, turning her back on the world.

The scars within do not heal easily. They grip and shake her present life, stirring emotions like anxiety, confusion, irritation, sadness, and anger. Baek Sang-ah lacks the courage to face her old wounds. But when she meets a girl who looks just like her, she finds the strength to confront them. She brings the girl into her current life, reconciling, accepting, forgiving, and healing. As a wounded healer, she also soothes the aching soul. It is a comfort offered to those struggling to live.

Director Lee Ji-won delicately portrays the transformation from a lone fighter to a savior. A representative scene is when Baek Sang-ah and Kim Ji-eun (Kim Si-a) watch the sea together at Wolmido. Suddenly, Kim Ji-eun, wearing woolen gloves, takes Baek Sang-ah’s bare hand. Baek Sang-ah does not immediately turn her head. She senses the presence and contemplates how to respond for about two to three seconds. It is the moment when her hesitant heart slowly opens. Director Lee said, “I hoped for a gradual crack rather than a sudden collapse.”

Han Ji-min’s thoughts were no different. At the SK Broadband B tv talk concert ‘Filmotalk’ held on the 31st of last month at T Factory in Donggyo-dong, Mapo-gu, Seoul, she said, “Baek Sang-ah is a woman who has no memory of anyone quietly approaching and holding her hand,” adding, “She acts tough but is lonely and deeply wounded, so she would have been comforted slowly.” Han Ji-min does not smile. After staring at Kim Ji-eun for a long time, she slowly turns her head toward the sea. Yet, she maintains a deep gaze throughout, sublimating the joined hands into a moment where courage blossoms.

The series of performances aligns with individual psychology advocated by Austrian psychiatrist Alfred Adler (1870?1937). He defined psychological inferiority as “a blessing inherent in humans.” “Life is a process of compensating for what is lacking, elevating what is low, and completing what is unfinished. Though weak and inferior, one uses that as a driving force for self-development and moves forward. At that moment, inferiority becomes the potential hidden within us, the hidden gem that leads to superiority and energy.”

Director Lee approached every moment when new possibilities blossomed with close-up shots. She was convinced of this philosophy through Han Ji-min’s changing eyes. “They look endlessly clear, delicate, and pure, but sometimes sharply edged. Sometimes they sparkle like an animal’s. I was able to show the depth of emotion down to the difference of a single sheet of paper.”

The highlight is the scene where Baek Sang-ah rides in Jang Seop’s (Lee Hee-joon) private car but cannot shake off a foreboding feeling and gets out. She retraces her steps and finds Kim Ji-eun, disheveled and in her underwear, seemingly deranged, and embraces her tightly. Han Ji-min does not hide her displeasure even before getting into the car. The clear emotional line could have been perceived as discomfort. This is because Jang Seop calmly says, “I brought my mother to the columbarium.” Han Ji-min expresses her inner feelings only through her eyes. With a slightly unfocused gaze, she stares straight down. Thoughts about her mother, glimpsed subtly, come into focus and naturally bring her back to the present. The closeness between Baek Sang-ah and Kim Ji-eun, almost to the point of anxiety, justifies the salvation that follows.

Han Ji-min recalled, “I tried to continuously show emotions that I wanted to avoid but couldn’t help caring about,” adding, “Within that framework, I thought she musters the courage to face her past, which she had never looked back on, after hearing the story about her mother.” This is why the thoroughly condensed emotions complexly branched out as she hugged Kim Ji-eun. Initially, Director Lee asked Han Ji-min to portray a “fearful beast.” She wanted heavy breaths to convey a mix of relief and anxiety. But Han Ji-min added tears that were not in the script. It was a natural expression born from immersion in the acting. She said, “When entering the alley, Si-a was standing in her underwear, covered in wounds. It was like looking into Baek Sang-ah’s childhood in a mirror, and I couldn’t help but shed tears.”

Adler emphasized, “Humans can change, and anyone can be happy,” adding, “The energy needed for that is courage.” Han Ji-min’s tears reflect a desperate desire to reach that value. They calmly persuade the audience and make them reflect on the painful realities of our society. Director Lee said, “Originally, Baek Sang-ah was set as a rough and tough woman, but Han Ji-min’s delicate and pure heart added a point of empathy for the public.” Perhaps that is why Kim Hye-ja, who worked with Han Ji-min in the drama Snowdrop, urged with affectionate eyes, “I hope you take on roles that tear yourself apart and sew yourself back together. So that you can be a comfort to those who are struggling and wounded...”

This content was produced with the assistance of AI translation services.