Youn Yuh-jung on Filmmaking, Fame, and Motherhood

Success presents itself differently to different people. It bears a map with no single route—everyone charts and chooses their own path. It doesn’t keep a single schedule either, as some meet it at dawn and others at dusk. Youn Yuh-jung had the good fortune of a breakthrough early in her career. Her debut in Woman of Fire effectively put her on the industry radar, landing her the Best Actress gong at the Blue Dragon Film Awards.

Youn’s fearless portrayal of Myeong‑ja in the Kim Ki-young-directed feature laid the foundation for a filmography brimming with provocative performances. Her impressive résumé comprises collaborations with cinema’s most celebrated auteurs, including Im Sang-soo and Hong Sang-soo. Her partnership with Lee Isaac Chung, whose film Minari earned her the Oscar for Best Supporting Actress, gained her international recognition.

Hailed by many as the grand dame of Asian cinema, Youn has inspired generations of actors across the region. So when word got out that she was headed for the Singapore International Film Festival, where she was to receive the Screen Icon Award, we made a trip to the Little Red Dot for an exclusive interview. Ahead, the actress gets candid about her decades-spanning experiences, from matinee fame to motherhood.

At this stage of your career, is there still a role you would love to try?

I’m a very old lady. I’ve played enough roles that I don’t have that kind of thinking anymore. These days, I would take on whatever comes to me. If I like the premise, the writer, or the director, I will do it. I also promised young directors I would help with their first films. My role doesn’t have to be big, and money doesn’t matter.

Looking back, was there a major turning point for you?

I put my career on hold when I got married. I thought I would live happily ever after, but I didn’t. I was devastated after the divorce. I needed to survive, so I returned to acting. I’d take any small part—I wasn’t considered for leading roles anymore because I was getting old—I could get my hands on. I didn’t care. My only concern was feeding my two boys.

What was it like raising children as a single mother in this industry?

There were times when a director insulted me, and I thought about quitting, but I swallowed my pride. I was good at being a provider. But as a mother, I did feel guilty. They rarely had “mum’s cooking” as they mostly lived with a maid. I apologised to my son when he went to college, and he said to me, “Don’t worry, mum. That’s why we’re skinny”. It’s sad, but we laugh about it now.

Do you think about retiring?

I did think about that after they grew up. I’ve also thought about it in recent years because of my health. I’m working with energetic young actors, and I have to keep up with them. I also don’t want the crew to treat me differently. But then I knew I’d just get bored staying at home watching TV and reading books. So I keep going, even if I’m exhausted afterwards.

You have received many awards since the early days of your career. Do you consciously pursue them?

No. I was very young when I won the award for my debut film. I think it was the first time something like that ever happened in Korea. I thought I was the only exception. But that pride was poison. I don’t care about awards anymore. Fame is especially strange. People raise you up for no reason, and they tear you down for no reason. Fame is dangerous.

What is the most rewarding aspect of acting for you?

Every new project feels like a fresh start. That said, I’m never satisfied with my acting. I’ve always hated watching myself in the monitor. In my early days, we shot on film, and it was too expensive to waste on reshoots, so only the director could decide if a take was good. Now you can watch the playback anytime, but I still can’t stand seeing myself on screen. It’s embarrassing.

If you had to choose one iconic character to represent your career, which would it be?

My first movie, Woman of Fire, directed by Kim Ki-young, would be the one. He was a genius, but I didn’t appreciate him. I was young. I didn’t know any better. I didn’t go to drama school or get my start in theatre. I simply tried my best to observe and follow his direction. Now I regret not learning more from him. It was my own foolishness.

What influences your decision to take bold roles and projects?

Back in the 1970s, if you wanted to be an actress in South Korea, you had to be beautiful. That was the first condition. But I knew I didn’t fit into the Korean standard of beauty, so I decided I would go the other way. Instead of following the trend of starring in melodramas, I chose character roles. That’s why people say I’m bold.

What advice do you have for filmmakers limited by censorship?

We experienced censorship back in my days, too, during the dictatorship. Kim Ki-young’s films were heavily censored—many of his original tapes were burned. But filmmakers like him found ways around it. If you are a true filmmaker, you will find ways. Complaining about it is cowardly. Censorship is a hurdle, but real filmmakers will overcome it.

What about for young actors?

Time has changed. Old actors shouldn’t give old advice. Young people don’t listen anyway—we don’t listen to our parents, right? That said, I do recall a time when I asked a senior actress how she would read a line, and she just brushed me off. That hurt me deeply. So I promised myself I would never do that to others, and I’ve made good on that promise.