Fantastic Theater (환상극장)

Who's there?

Who are you asking?

Is that a ghost?

Yes, I am.

What brings you here?

I came to eat.

You have the wrong place.

What do you mean?

You're looking for food in my home.

Are you sure this is your home?

Yes.

And this is today's date?

That's right.

How did you die?

I thought so.

Then, how did you die?

I was hungry, so I ate all my memories.

The Famished

What a handsome dog you are.

Your master must be looking for you.

Are you hungry?

I'm starved.

So, what happened?

Did they catch the killer?

The killer?

Fucking shit! You ate it!

You ate the fucking story!

The killer?

You said all 3 family members were killed at once.

I told you to tell me all, before!

I knew this would happen.

You couldn't even wait until I got here for Christ's sake!

You said you wrote the story.

If you keep eating like that, you'll even forget how you died.

How I died?

You shouldn't have started the story.

I didn't get any sleep to come here.

You shouldn't have made promise not to keep!

Piece of shit!

I don't ever want to see you again!

Fuck!

Ronnie.

This way, boy.

Ronnie.

What's wrong, boy? Your leash is tangled.

That's it.

The spring moon illuminates the world so it can treasure farewells.

How pretty.

I am still pretty, right?

We came to the same place on the same day to eat.

Maybe we're a couple who died at the same time?

A couple?

It's a ghost.

Who is it?

Who are you?

If I knew, I wouldn't be a ghost.

Ghosts eat their memories in order to satiate their hunger.

Having consumed all my memories, I no longer exist,

and I know not who I am.

How would the living know that?

What's the name?

Name? My name?

No. The dog's name.

The dog?

Name?

Aren't you hungry?

No! Not this dog!

He's family.

You don't even know his name.

B-b-brother!

Y-you're finally here.

How's mother?

H-h-her mind c-c-comes and g-goes.

She d-doesn't even r-recognize me.

When she s-s-sees me, sh-she asks m-me, "Who are you?"

Sh-sh-she was l-l-looking into the m-mirror

and c-cursing at herself,

and I-I was s-s-so s-scared.

"B-b-b-b..."

Bitch?

Th-th-that's right.

"Y-y-y-you b-bitch!"

"Y-y-you b-bitch!"

"Wh-wh-who are you?"

And she s-spit

into the m-m-mirror.

Eat.

M-m-mommy's illness is that sh-she e-eats everything.

M-m-mommy eats all her m-memories.

Eat.

Wh-wh-when she h-has n-n-no memories l-left to eat,

sh-she'll end up eating h-h-herself.

Eating memories, even before they are dead.

That is what dementia is.

Anyway, do you know who owns the dog tied to the front of the theater?

This should be okay.

You think so?

Of course. Take the leash.

Get him!

Fuck!

Fuck!

Fuck!

How could you let him go?

Fuck!

M-m-mommy.

G-g-guess who I am.

You're my child, Ee-mae.

Y-y-ou've c-come to your s-senses today.

I'm s-so hot.

Would you like to hear a chilling story, then?

Y-y-y-yes.

Long ago,

there lived a couple in a fishing village who loved each other deeply.

But as if the gods envied their happiness,

the husband died from an illness and his wife spent long nights in tears,

overcome by loneliness and sorrow.

Then one day, she learned that she could see the dead

if she gathered flower petals and lit their oil at an altar.

So, she roamed all over the mountain to collect petals.

One night, when the full moon shone coldly,

a night when the crow cried in sorrow over her dead mate,

she set up an altar to her husband, lit the oil from the flower petals

and sat by the door waiting.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

Time passed by, and the clock struck midnight.

Shhhhhhhhh...

Shhhhhhhhh...

Shhhhhhhhh...

The wind begin to howl, and the door opened in silence.

Finally, her dead husband entered the door.

Hot tears of joy streamed down the wife's face.

But all the husband could do was wolf down the food at the altar

without a word and get up.

Seeing that her husband was about to leave,

the wife grabbed onto the hem of her husband's coat and cried,

"Please say just one word to me. Just one word before you leave."

But the husband stared blankly into his wife's face,

cut the hem she was holding onto with his scissors and left.

Anyway.

Who are you?

I'm Ee-mae.

I mustn't forget.

I mustn't forget no matter what.

I mustn't...

Hey, what are you doing?

You ate all of it.

D-d-do you think it'll r-really be a-all right?

What do you mean?

Th-th-the ghost.

The ghost?

Yes.

There's no such thing.

Are you scared of ghosts?

Oh! Oh!

I'm scared of poverty.

S-s-stop it.

D-d-did you hear s-something?

What are you talking about?

L-l-listen closely.

D-d-do you hear that?

It's the s-sound of s-s-singing.

Th-th-the m-maiden f-from the v-v-village...

Shhh!

There's more than one of them.

S-s-see?

Ee-mae!

Bring me my stick.

Th-th-the ghosts are h-h-here in d-d-droves!

Bring me my stick, now!

M-m-mom?

My husband is here.

He's come for me.

Dad's no longer here. Will you please get a hold of yourself?

You look handsome in your scarlet coat.

Aren't your feet cold?

Turn around. Let me see your face.

Ee-mae! Ee-mae!

M-m-mommy!

Hold her!

Who are you?

Mom! There's no one there!

Let go of me! I want to go with him!

I want to go with my husband!

Your face is so haggard.

Oh!

Your father is here holding an orange branch in one hand!

Save me! Save me!

It's a ghost.

It's s ghost.

A ghost!

- Great job. - Great job.

Producer Lee Myeongjin's Posthumous Work

The Loneliness of butcher boy

Hello, Everyone!

The sun has risen on another gorgeous day.

I'm Lee So Yeon, here to start you off with Good Morning English.

Here we go!

Eat up.

Your dad won't send you to school unless you eat.

School isn't important.