Lee Soon-jae lived as a working actor until his final days. At 91, an age when many retire into quiet rest, he moved between theater stages and filming sets, fueled by an undying passion for performance. His life itself was a work of art, shaped by discipline, humility and craftsmanship.
News of Lee’s passing on Nov. 25 prompted an outpouring of grief across the entertainment industry. Actors, directors and colleagues shared their condolences and recalled memories of the veteran performer with deep sorrow.
Lee had an exclusive YouTube interview with the Hankook Ilbo a few years ago, ahead of the release of the film “Good Morning.” “I didn’t get paid much for this one. It’s a low-budget film. But the script was good. I joined the project happily, with a bit of ambition, regardless of the money,” he said with a cheerful laugh.
For Lee, an actor’s greatest fortune was meeting good scripts and good directors. “That’s how you can fully show your capabilities. That’s real luck for an actor,” he said.
In “Good Morning,” he played an elderly man in a hospice ward. “Actors need to handle big expressions, of course… but delicate, subtle acting can enrich a film too, right? That’s why I stuck to this character. Those who give everything until the end have dimensionality, and that’s what makes them appealing.”
His use of the word “stuck” — as if attaching himself to a role — revealed more about his philosophy than any textbook could. It reflected the ambition, persistence and craftsmanship that guided his long career. He approached every character analytically, with curiosity and dedication.
When the conversation drifted to bucket lists, Lee laughed loudly. “I’ve never made real money. So I’d like to earn a bit.” Then, with his playful expression fading, he added quietly, “I’m satisfied with my work. Even if I were born again, I’d still choose this. I’d be an actor. These days people make billions of won (millions of dollars), but back in our day, we worked on the brink of starvation.”
One of Lee’s long-held dreams was traveling abroad with his wife. But he was always moving on to the next stage, the next script, the next filming schedule. With barely two or three days of rest at a time, taking a long trip was nearly impossible. “I’ve never traveled abroad with my wife. If I ever have the time and strength, I’d like to circle the world… though now it might be too late. Work comes first. Still, I want to go.”
When asked about the travel reality show “Grandpas Over Flowers,” he smiled. “I had to go alone. I felt sorry. I told her to go separately, but she wouldn’t.”
His recollections also touched on the discrimination performers faced in earlier decades. “Actors used to be looked down on. We were filming in an art studio at night once, and a painter who wasn’t even well-known came in and yelled at us, saying entertainers were contaminating the studio. Another time, I tried to learn conducting for a role, but the chief conductor wouldn’t teach me. His face said, ‘Who do you think you are?’ That was the kind of humiliation we dealt with.”
Even so, his reason for choosing acting remained unwavering. “I was watching foreign films then and thought, ‘This is art. This is worth trying.’ I started out of curiosity. My family endured everything with me, all the struggles, and that’s how we got here.”
Lee also expressed strong confidence in the future of Korean film and television. “Things have changed now. Talented people challenge the world through the Korean wave. I believe another Youn Yuh-jung (who won an Academy Award) can absolutely emerge.”
Laughing heartily, he added, “If only I’d been born 20 years later. I was born too early.” Even after the camera turned off, he continued to share stories of his craft, filming experiences and the life of an actor, offering a glimpse into the passion, dignity and sincerity that shaped his nine-decade journey.
Though Lee Soon-jae is gone, the profound echoes of his artistry will remain for years to come.
