Life Once Again Life Once Again
Yoonseok looked at the laptop screen over and over again. He still couldn’t believe it; he got the judges’ award.
He received the email two days ago. An email with an English title was at the top of his inbox. Just as he was about to trash it thinking that it was a scam, he found the sender’s address rather familiar. Even as someone who had lived a life far removed from learning English, he had no problems reading it:
Monte Brè.
Three months ago, he submitted his film to various film festivals through various online platforms, and one of them was Monte Brè, a film festival with an illustrious history that was held in Switzerland.
He clicked on the title of the email quickly. He copied the slew of English text and pasted them into a machine translator. Although some of the ‘translations’ were jaggy at best, he had no problem understanding the meaning.
At the end was a line that said that they were happy to screen a good film at their festival and congratulated him for getting the award.
He immediately sent the whole email to a friend of his who was good at English. He said he would treat him out later in compensation for an accurate translation. The contents that his friend translated into Korean for him weren’t that much different from what a translator gave him. After two rounds of checks, he could finally cheer loudly.
“It’s snowing quite a lot.”
He heard a voice he was waiting for. Yoonseok turned his head around to look behind him. Maru was dusting off his hat.
“Hyung, have a look at this.”
Before Maru could even sit down, Yoonseok grabbed him and showed him the laptop.
“But you gave me a screenshot of this yesterday.”
“Seeing the real deal is different from a screenshot.”
Although it was rather weird to call a simple email the ‘real deal,’ he said whatever came out of his mouth because he couldn’t hold back his excitement. Maru received the laptop.
“It is indeed the judge’s award. You have it good, director Lee.”
“Hyung, you could read that?”
“Somewhat.”
“You said you could ‘somewhat’ do Japanese and Chinese last time, and you ended up being almost at a native level.”
“Everyone does that much.”
Maru’s definition of ‘somewhat’ had to be different from what was said in the dictionary. Yoonseok received the laptop back from Maru.
“Had I known that, I would’ve gone when I was invited.”
He did get an invitation email about a month ago.
An invitation from an overseas film festival! He was excited and looked into flights to Switzerland, then flinched at the questions that popped up in his mind. It was good that he was invited, but who was going to pay for the flights, lodging, and other expenses? There was no one around him that he thought would know, so he ended up asking Maru. Maru’s answer was simple: usually, the lodging was provided, and everything else was at the expense of the visitor.
“If I knew I was going to get a prize, I would’ve visited even if I had to go into debt. If I did, I would’ve taken a photo on a Swiss stage.”
“You know that’s being greedy, right?”
He smiled awkwardly and nodded.
Had he been financially well off enough to participate in all the film festivals he was invited to, Maru would not have had to invest in him in the first place. Being happy was one thing and reality was another.
“But a judge’s award, huh? What level is that on? It must be lower than the grand prize, but not by much, right?”
“It’s a non-competitive field, so it’s difficult to talk about superiority. But the award is proof that the judges liked your film, so there’s no need to feel disappointed.”
“That’s true. I guess it’s more important that people saw my film and liked it than receiving a prize. So, the judges liked it, but what about the ordinary people? If I was there, it would’ve been great to see what the responses were like.”
“That’s the kind of atmosphere you look forward to when you participate in a film festival.”
Yoonseok looked up the Monte Brè Film Festival on a web portal. As it was a pretty famous film festival, there were films that were awarded prizes sorted by year at the top.
“Soon, the films that got awards for 2011 will be put on here.”
“So it’s your second one after the Short Film Festival. Congratulations.”
“You too, hyung. If you look at it like this, I think the two of us have really good synergy.”
Yoonseok took Maru to the counter. He had always been the one being treated, so he said he would treat Maru out this time.
The part-timer at the counter didn’t seem to recognize Maru as she was busy looking at the screen because of the orders. Though, not many people would recognize him since he had a baseball cap on and a messy beard.
They went back to their table after receiving a vibration alarm bell.
“Since it’s like this, I’ll make you my persona.”
“I can refuse that, right?”
“No, you have to accept it.”
“I feel like I’m making a losing trade.”
“Don’t say that and do it. Lee Yoonseok’s persona. Isn’t it great?”
While they were talking, the alarm bell started vibrating. Yoonseok brought the coffee and put it in front of Maru.
“But hey, it really is snowing a lot. It feels like yesterday when we were shooting under the scorching sun, but it’ll be the new year soon.”
“Time flies, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah. Summer went by so quickly. Wasn’t it like that for you too?”
“Well, every moment goes by too quickly for me. That’s why it’s a pity.”
Yoonseok faintly smiled while listening to Maru.
“Someone might think that we’re middle-aged men if they hear our conversation. You know, I feel this from time to time, but when I’m talking with you, it feels like I’m getting older.”
“That doesn’t sound like a compliment to me.”
“It is. It feels like I’m getting older in a good way. I’m maturing in a way, so to speak. I met my middle school friends a while back, and they asked me what happened to the old me. It looks like you really influenced me a lot.”
Yoonseok started thinking; if he had not done a film together with Maru, if he had not sent that first email to Maru, what would’ve happened to him now?
He would probably have a totally different lifestyle right now. Perhaps he might have given up his dream as a filmmaker and was having an ordinary college life.
“You should probably start getting ready.”
Maru’s voice cut his thoughts off.
Yoonseok put his cup down and asked,
“Get ready for what?”
“While Monte Brè is meaningful on its own, there’s another reason why film industry people pay attention to it.”
“What is it?”
“A bridge. Monte Brè is a film festival that starts at the end of December and ends early January the year after. Once the film assessment is finished, there is a week to evaluate music and art, and when all of that finishes, The Belgian Film Festival begins. There’s an unwritten rule that those who get good responses from Monte Brè will get invited to the Belgian Film Festival. It’s not like there’s a concrete rule, but that’s what usually happens.”
“Then will our film also…”
“It’s highly likely that you’ll get an invitation, even if you don’t submit it.”
“Should I work a part-time job? I’ll work hard and pay for your flight at least. No wait, I guess I shouldn’t even think about that if I want to pay back 200 million won.”
“It’s not 200 million, but 120 million. Also, you’re planning to pay back the production fees?”
“I will.”
“Well, I don’t plan on accepting it though.”
The production cost was something that got on Yoonseok’s mind even after the shoot. While Maru said that it was an investment, Yoonseok thought that it was debt. He was no idiot to just keep laughing after spending other people’s money.
“I’m pretty serious. I think that it’s money that I have to pay back. Nothing’s free in this world.”
“Nothing is free in this world, and that’s why I said it’s an investment. Investment inherently contains risks of losing all of it. You do not use the word investment for something that has no risk of making losses.”
“But how can I stay still?”
“Yoonseok. 100 million is definitely a big amount of money. However, depending on the person, it might not actually be that big. Above all, I do not think that spending that amount of money to create this film was a loss of money. That’s why you are not obligated to pay it back.”
Maru took a sip of coffee and added that he should start writing an even better film if he was so concerned about it.
“I’m not sure if you’re being too calm about it or if you’re confident because of something else.”
“I invested in you because I judged that there’s something that’s worth more than money in what you do, so don’t think about anything else. Also, you didn’t get contacted by any of the independent film publishers, right?”
Yoonseok nodded.
“Yeah. Like you said, I wasn’t contacted by any of them.”
“Once it goes around the internet that you got a prize, you’ll get an interview request.”
“For me?”
An interview? It was a word he wasn’t even thinking of, so he was rather taken aback.
A global film festival award winner who’s not even a major; a director who has won the grand prize in the Short Film Festival before. If they can flesh this out, there’s no better thing to write about.
“Would I get a request though?”
“There are a lot of journalists who work in places you don’t know about. You’ll probably be reached out by someone who is not from a major media outlet. You should decide which one to accept and which one to refuse.”
Hearing Maru’s words, he refreshed the email inbox.
“Hyung. I really got an email.”
He rotated the laptop around to show it to Maru. There was an interview request from an internet media outlet he had never heard of before. Maru checked the email.
“An interview that’s done through the mail huh? You should read the form attached to the email and send it back according to the format. It’s quite simple, so give them one. If you do, they’ll write up things on their own.”
“So people do things this way too huh? I thought everything would be face-to-face.”
“Once you become more well-known, there will be places that want to meet you. Don’t sound too excited though.”
“I’ll be formal so that I don’t tarnish a certain someone’s name. I can be formal too, you know?”
Yoonseok read the email and gave Maru a glance in front of him.
He always became curious at times like these. They say professional Go players could predict dozens of moves in the future, but maybe Maru had similar skills regarding life?
“Huh? I got another one.”
“Go on the internet. The award history should’ve been updated.”
He put up the web portal he searched for the film festival on just a moment ago. When he looked it up again, the 2011 awards were listed. The names of the directors were written underneath the titles.
“It’s here.”
“You’ll probably receive a lot of attention. It’s a prize you got via independent submission.”
“My heart’s beating fast again.”
“Also, you might be reached out to by some distributors. If you are contacted, then tell them that nothing’s decided yet and that they should wait. Who knows? You might be contacted by a large distributor who might put it up in some big multiplex movie theaters.”
“If that happens, would hundreds of people watch it?”
“Forget hundreds. It might be thousands. Maybe even ten thousand.”
“Ten thousand? Do you think that’s possible?”
“I can’t guarantee it. There aren’t many cases where independent films became popular other than a few rare cases.”
“I don’t even wish for ten thousand. Honestly, I think a few thousand is being greedy already, though, I do want them to watch it.”
Yoonseok looked outside the window. The falling snow looked like people going to the cinemas.
* * *
His nose felt numb. Going for a jog at the Han River was not something good to do in winter. When he opened the door and came inside, he felt like the frosty sweat had melted down a little.
He took a light shower and ate breakfast. His wife had passed out. It was no surprise since she was shooting until 3 a.m.
He took down the laundry hung up on the drying rack and put them down on the ground. Cats appeared from somewhere and started rolling around on top of the towels. After he folded away the laundry, he opened the laptop.
As he was browsing through some news articles, he got a phone call from Yeonjin.
-I’ll pick you up soon so get ready. Also, it’ll be a casual outfit during the press announcement.
“Yes.”
He opened the door to the bedroom slightly. He could see his wife’s silhouette flinching in the darkness.
“I’ll be leaving now. There’s rice in the fridge that you can eat.”
“Good luck,” his wife said in a sleepy voice.
Maru closed the door and put on his trainers.