Ryu Geon

Growing up

Growing up in Changwon, Geon liked, in his badminton club, the time spent changing the same movement little by little more than one well-struck shot. He was not good enough to go on to a sports school for results, and he knew that himself. At home he took the funny parts, copying the poses of characters in the short comics his sister drew. When his mother altered clothes, he watched closely how the folds of the fabric changed with the direction a person raised their arm. He was very interested in the shapes of bodies, but tended to leave explaining in words why someone was angry to his sister. He is still keen to make people close to him laugh, yet slips a joke in when he has to explain his own hurt.

Why acting

In his last year of high school, at a small physical theatre piece, he saw the audience read a wordless moving-house scene as different stories. He was drawn less to showing off impressive moves than to the way viewers fill in the empty parts. In 2012 he entered a performing arts course and learned stage work and movement together. In student productions he executed big moves precisely, but froze easily when a partner changed the timing. In 2015 he made his professional debut in the physical theatre piece “The Other Side of Weight” as a young man carrying boxes for a move. After the first performance he was told the best moment was not his own move but the moment he waited for his partner to set down a box, and he began to wonder whether waiting is also a skill.

Turning points

After finishing “The Third Landing” in 2017, Geon gained confidence that he could reliably handle roles with a lot of movement. But as similar ensemble offers kept coming, in 2018 he turned one down after looking first at the size of the part, deciding to spend that time preparing for central roles with more lines. At a 2019 audition for the central role in the short “The Wrong Elevator”, he showed his prepared impression before listening to the other person's question, and did not get the part. Without really knowing the reason, he wanted to explain it as people only expecting physical acting from him, but his own self-tape held moments where he had not listened to the end. The income from the show he declined never came back, and taking more shifts as a set-up and strike assistant, he actually had to cut some of the voice classes he wanted. Even after supporting roles in “Light Moving Boxes” in 2021 and “The Empty Chair at Lunchtime” in 2023, his wish to play a lead has not faded; in 2024, in the independent physical-acting group Slow Harmony with Kang Tae-won, he tested how making his own movement stand out differs from leading a scene.

Up close

His sharp face and trained build make him seem like a taciturn, competitive actor. The impression of competitiveness is partly right, but a blank face does not mean he is judging his colleagues.

Once close, he often sends short jokes and clumsy drawings. He congratulates colleagues on good news, but alone he picks over why the same chance has not come to him. The more complicated he feels, the more likely he is — rather than pretending not to care — to admit belatedly to his sister that he is still jealous.

Preparing a scene

On a first read he writes in one line the purpose for which the character enters the room. After drawing the blocking, he marks which of the other person's actions each move starts from. Then he drops the physical business and exchanges only the lines, to check whether the same purpose remains. For scenes that need choreography, before raising the speed the actors agree on a start signal and a stop signal.

Before shooting he checks with the movement coordinator the range he can cover given the floor and costume. He never forces a demonstration on a scene partner; he matches them first at a speed they can manage, and when lines change he does not push on with the movement locked.

The texture of the acting

• With the spacing of his feet and the angle of his torso at a doorway, he lets someone pass or blocks them.
• He sends his gaze first and lets his body follow after a gap, making clear what he is wary of.
• He holds his breath just before a low, short lower-middle line, building the focus of the instant before action.

A day off stage

Late in the morning he makes fried rice with leftover vegetables and opens a script he has half read. He means to turn over the first page with the role names and read only the scenes, but ends up counting the lines once anyway. On his afternoon walk he sends his sister his worst drawing, but when he sees news of a colleague's new role he puts off replying for a while. In the evening he writes in two lines whether what he envied was that work or the position of lead, and plans the next week's training.