Hun Haqeem’s career is a balance of speed and stillness, moving effortlessly between high-octane pursuits and quiet introspection. As much a devoted fan of the craft as he is a rising star, BURO Malaysia sits down with the actor to uncover what fuels his creative passions.

Tuesday mornings aren’t usually this electric, but Hun Haqeem has a way of shifting the atmosphere. As we settle into the rhythm of pre-shoot preparations, the first sign of him arrives in a low, unmistakable rumble: a Triumph Street Triple 765 easing to a stop outside the studio. Minutes later, the 27-year-old strolls in with a Shoei helmet tucked under his arm, its shell etched with intricate Japanese motifs, greeting the room with a shy smile and a slight bow of the head.

It’s a study in contrasts: a man who moves quietly through a crowd, yet whose passions roar to life with undeniable intensity. Motorcycles have been his great love since his teenage years, when he would sneak rides on his father’s bike. “I ride every single day,” he beams. “If I don’t ride, I’ll go crazy.”

That restless energy—disciplined now, but no less fierce—runs through his craft as well: fast when he needs to be, fearless when the role demands it, and always chasing the next stretch of road ahead. Riding keeps him grounded, but acting gives him flight. Both, for Hun, are about surrendering to momentum and trusting himself to make it through to the other side.

SEEDS OF A PASSION

A film buff since childhood, Hun’s adoration for cinema was first kindled by the people who raised him. Family movie nights weren’t solely a pastime in his household, but a ritual where bonds were forged over watching stories unfold. “That’s one of the ways we would spend time together,” he recalls fondly. “The memory is still fresh in my head, where we would buy pizza, sit on the floor and watch a movie. I think a lot of people can relate to that.”

Over time, those tales in the dark began to speak another language. The theatre became a refuge for Hun, offering solace, clarity and occasionally, answers to life’s uncertainties. Whenever his mind felt clouded, he would purchase a ticket and let the flickering screen transport him into another realm. ”I feel a certain enlightenment because I always like to watch something hard-hitting,” he expresses, citing Forrest Gump and The Green Mile as enduring favourites.

It wasn’t long until Hun realised his fascination with the film industry had outgrown mere admiration. Though his post-graduation journey started in corporate communications, a different narrative pull nagged at him. His mother was his earliest champion, nudging him toward a world he had silently observed from afar. “I did have a conversation with her about it when I was at The New Straits Times,” he shares. “She was very encouraging, so I’m really blessed with that because I think she must have laughed, right?”

When probed about his acting inspirations, Hun pauses, rifling through a mental archive of performances that have left a lasting imprint on him. "There are so many people at the top of my head," he chuckles, before settling on a few established names. In terms of acting skills, he looks up to Timothée Chalamet, Cillian Murphy, and Leonardo DiCaprio. To Hun, each is an exemplar of their art, but it’s Tom Hanks who holds the deepest resonance. “He’s a very sincere actor,” he muses.

Those names have turned into a quiet benchmark for the kind of work he hopes to venture into—roles that carry integrity, depth, and the ability to move an audience the way cinema once moved him. “Whenever I act, I seek a reflection of life. My hope is to create the same kind of impact that certain films once left on me,” he says, eyes steady with determination.

Wading into unfamiliar waters is no easy feat. It requires patience, persistence, and the courage to answer when chance finally comes knocking on your door. For Hun, it was a casual Ramadan wish to a film director that landed him his first gig. “He thought of a friend looking for an actor, and he knew I wanted to be one,” he recounts. “So, he recommended my name and I went for the casting.”

Hun’s repertoire has since spanned genres. Earlier this year, he made his theatrical debut with Soloz: Game of Life, a biographical drama chronicling the modest beginnings of a competitive esports legend. To fully embody his characters, Hun spends hours dissecting their psyche, rehearsing every dialogue, and maintaining ongoing conversations with directors. “I try my best to live the character and understand their emotional traits,” he explains.

A STAR IN THE MAKING

However, slipping into multiple personas also demands the delicate art of stepping back out. In the early days of his career, Hun found this separation to be a gruelling task. While working on Angkara Cinta, the line between fiction and reality often blurred. “We shot that show for 115 episodes,” he opens up. “It’s really difficult to detach yourself [from a character] when it’s been a part of your life for almost a year.”

Despite dabbling in a pursuit rooted in make-believe, authenticity is a currency Hun refuses to trade. Every project he takes on is filtered through the lens of who he wants to be, and he deliberately surrounds himself with collaborators who amplify rather than dilute. That, he believes, is the only way to fully inhabit a role without losing himself in the process.

On days when the job presses too heavily, Hun leans on his closest confidants to keep him steady. “My family and friends always check up on me. They make sure I don’t lose sight of myself,” he remarks warmly, grateful for the reminders of who he is off-camera. Even his motorcycle becomes more than a machine, doubling as a lifeline to presence and a vessel for bonding with his loved ones on the open road. “I’ll go on rides with my mother, and we’ll get breakfast some mornings. It makes me feel closer to her because she’s holding onto me,” he adds softly.

With rising popularity comes public recognition, and even the best aren’t immune to scrutiny. As Hun cemented his spot as the country’s new leading man, he learned that fame is a double-edged sword. Where praise exists, so does critique, and he welcomes both with open arms. “Someone once shared with me, ‘Everybody can be great if they’re teachable.’ If there are no critics, our craft wouldn’t be better,” he affirms.

Still, Hun draws a firm line when feedback strays from the work itself. To him, personal attacks are nothing but static noise that drown out what truly matters. “I wish critics could be less harmful toward personalities, because not everyone can take that,” he points out. “Degrading a person doesn’t help.”

THE PRICE OF FAME

Beyond the sting of harsh criticism lies another battle most actors know all too well: creative burnout. Even the brightest stars dim under relentless pressure, and Hun is no stranger to that. The antidote, he reveals, is not solitude but connection. In the company of other artists, especially peers who’ve weathered the industry since youth, he finds both compass and anchor. “Whenever you remind each other of why you started in the first place, the burnout dies down quickly. It’s just a matter of reigniting that passion,” he states.

Hun also marvels at fellow actor, Fimie Don, who stands out as a beacon of resilience. “Whenever I spend time with him, I often think about how he’s managed to carry this path since childhood,” he admits, his voice threaded with awe and curiosity. Such conversations recalibrate his perspective, leading him back to the same fire that first awakened his love for acting.

As a man whose many talents ripple across creative boundaries, it’s no surprise that Hun is already ahead of the game, steering toward uncharted shores. Though thriving in the local scene, his sights are set on the international stage. Should the opportunity arise, he would embrace a role that demands both tenacity and heart. “I’d like to portray a character who faces setback after setback, yet who meets every obstacle with an unbreakable will,” he says, a burning desire behind his gaze. “That kind of character would really intrigue me to give it my all.”

Genres, too, remain wide open. Action may be familiar territory for Hun, but he also yearns for the fantastical and futuristic. No surprise there—he has been quite vocal about being both a Trekkie and a Warsie. “I would want a fantasy or a sci-fi, like Star Trek Into Darkness,” he adds, letting his imagination wander to distant galaxies.

On top of the acting, another form of storytelling sings to him: music. Mornings spent untangling cassette tapes, impromptu carpool karaoke sessions with his father and self-taught guitar riffs were early markers of a fascination that never faded. Hun credits Queen as his favourite British rock band, their anthems echoing like fragments of memory. Now, he’s ready to take a leap of faith into producing his own tunes. “It’s coming up really, really soon. I’m going to do music,” he announces, barely able to contain his excitement.

EN ROUTE TO NEW HORIZONS

For all his drive and exploration, one thing remains constant: Hun is grounded, aware that stardom is more than just applause and accolades. As often as he is in the spotlight, the actor prefers living in the moment over broadcasting every detail of his life. “Everything moves at such a rapid pace these days, but I hope to remind the younger generation to slow down," he reflects. "I try to strike that balance, because life is truly about the experience of living it. As part of a young generation of actors, I want to represent that.”

Social media, for all its allure, is another stage he navigates with care. When he needs a detox, he takes it without guilt. “The numbers don’t change. They follow me because of who I am, not because of the content I create every day,” he says, a testament to the balance he strives to maintain.

It’s safe to say that Hun Haqeem is building a career that mirrors his values. After all, success without self is a story left unfinished. Whatever comes next—actor, musician, visual storyteller—he will pursue on his own terms, letting authenticity, creativity, and dedication light the way forward. The world is his oyster, and the first pearls are just beginning to surface.