“Isaac, follow me.”
I got quite close to Isaac while guiding his posture on set. The way people held a bow and performed bowing varied greatly from person to person. In particular, Isaac’s physical conditions were distinctly different from others. In the story, Moses grew up experiencing harsh conditions in the camp. As a result, it wasn’t uncommon for his arms, legs, and even fingers to get injured.
Isaac mentioned that he had been learning the violin from a personal instructor for a long time for the movie. However,
“Insisting on a standardized posture isn’t the right approach.”
If I were Moses, I would have kept adjusting my posture to suit my condition. There was no reason to keep wearing clothes that didn’t fit. I advised him to spread his stance wider than his shoulders or to change the order of fingering the strings. Sometimes I told him to relax his wrists like a flexible animal or to fix them rigidly like a stiff old tree.
Isaac wrote down my suggestions in his notebook as if he were taking advice from a teacher. His bright, attentive eyes reminded me a lot of Son Yooha.
“Bringing Hyun to the set was indeed a brilliant choice. Even as the director, I couldn’t have discovered this aspect of Moses. If there’s any scene you want to revise, don’t hesitate to tell me.”
Jean-Pierre already trusted me entirely, to the point where the assistant directors and the cinematographer were taken aback. Jean-Pierre’s stubbornness was quite well-known even in the indie film scene.
Just because it’s a commercial film doesn’t mean the director’s original thoughts or habits change overnight. In that sense, the fact that my words could lead to a scene revision was highly significant. That’s because each scene carries the director’s unique mise-en-scène and identity.
“Hyun, do you know why Moses always caresses the wall?”
“Isn’t it because he feels sadness from the bullet marks scattered all over the wall?”
“That’s right, but I’m struggling with how to convey that feeling. Moses plays the old violin after caressing the wall, but no matter how I storyboard it, it feels bland. I was wondering if you could inspire me as you did before.”
In the storyboard, Moses caresses the wall and then plays the old violin. The scene, where the guards pretended not to see Moses, who had become a famous figure in the camp, exuded a contradictory sense of peace. However, it felt like something was still missing, even though it was a scene unchanged from his past life. Jean-Pierre seemed to sense something was lacking as well.
In a way, it was expected. Not every scene in a narrative can be perfect.
“Director, how about this? The nickname of the Natzweiler camp is ‘Heavy Rain,’ right? The reason must be the countless bullets embedded in the wall. How about having it rain while Moses soothes the sadness of the wall and plays the violin?”
I wondered if rain could come to this remote place, but I just shared what came to mind without hesitation.
For a moment, Jean-Pierre’s eyes widened. The simplest ideas are often the hardest to come up with.
“Hyun, you definitely have the qualities of a director.”
After a break, when filming resumed, recording equipment was being set up for simultaneous sound recording, but the sound director didn’t look too pleased. It was probably because the location was open and there were too many noises from the mountain breeze and insects.
It was a time when post-dubbing was becoming common. Especially for instrument recordings, post-dubbing was considered a given. No matter how much you tried on set, it couldn’t match the clarity of studio-recorded melodies.
But what could we do? Jean-Pierre’s stubbornness was not easily swayed.
“Hyun, could you please play the piece Moses just performed?”
I nodded briefly and picked up the old violin. It was a prop Moses always carried in the story. The soundboard had scratches here and there, making me wonder if it could function properly as a resonator, and the strings and bow were so worn that I feared they might snap.
Fortunately, there was an abundance of pine trees near the camp, allowing us to easily obtain top-quality black resin.
As I took my stance, the sound director began adjusting the equipment, but his expression grew even more troubled. The sound of the wind and insects continued to come through the headset.
I adjusted my posture. Not to my usual stance but to the one Moses had taken during the recent shoot, copying it as if by rote.
I bent my pinky more, widened my stance, and twisted my wrist awkwardly. As if I had become Moses.
The first song Moses played was a folk song of the prisoners, characterized by a mournful melody, much like our labor songs. I received the sheet music, but it was just a series of simple medleys. However, Moses could express that song on the violin just by hearing it.
Starting with an adagio, I slowly dragged the bow across the strings.
Ziing.
The elements composing the sheet music are simple: notes, rests, time signatures, and key signatures on a staff. But Moses had never seen sheet music in his life. He had even taught himself how to play the violin.
He must have let the sound resonate, using the rustling wind and the insects as accompaniment. When I lifted the bow, every rhythm began to revolve around the old violin, even without a metronome.
Saaa—!
With the sound of the wind, Ziing—!
As the lively melody resonated, all eyes on the set turned towards me. The mournful tone was unmistakable, but the surrounding wind and insect sounds made them smile.
