Pictorial Sect of GQ Korea, Aug 2025 Issue

GQ: I didn’t know you had tattoos.
Kim Nam-gil (NG): Actually, it was just henna. We’re shooting a music video tomorrow. *Personal Note: this MV* and the concept requires a character with tattoos—since I don’t have any, I got a henna tattoo yesterday. It lasts about two weeks.

GQ: It looked so natural, I wondered why I never noticed before. How do you feel—might you get a real tattoo?
NG: As an actor, not really. I need to remain entirely blank. If I weren’t an actor, maybe I’d try it—light, casual ones, nothing with deep meaning.

GQ: Do you still enjoy riding motorbikes?
NG: Oh, absolutely. I rode yesterday to a café outside the city. The more I do it, the more charm I find in motorbiking. After promoting Trigger, when the holidays wind down, I’m planning a nationwide bike tour—just me riding across the country.

GQ: On your own, not for YouTube or a show?
NG: Right. Now that you say that … should I film it? *laughs at the publicist* I’m not asking someone to follow me. If given a camera, I can mount a small one on the bike. I think people only focus on speed, but for me, it’s about feeling the breeze and getting close to the scenery. It’s not the same as sticking your hand out the car window. You can feel it instantly—with hot days that heat, or cool days that chill. We call it “cross rivers, cross seas, over mountains”—just a free nationwide route without a set plan. And before it's too late, I want to go. I'm planning to do it this year.

GQ: I have the impression you don’t plan too meticulously.
NG: Spot on—that's me. I only go when there’s no filming schedule. I’d like to take about two weeks. My friends who would go with me work jobs or run businesses, so they said “Let’s go but return quickly.” They thought a full motorbike tour was too much—but then they said, “How about we meet in Pohang and you ride longer from there?” So it’s all very rough. We can’t ride on highways in Korea—we use national roads, and those have their own appeal. When traveling to Jecheon or Mungyeong by car for shoots, I didn’t notice these places—but on a bike, you really observe the towns, low buildings, and people living in non-major cities. That’s what I enjoy. Next time I want to ride along the coastal roads north to Sokcho, even to the very end.

GQ: I’m glad you’re still enjoying motorbikes. I love Whatever Leaves Behind (뭐라도 남기리).
NG: Oh, just last week I rode with Sang-yoon to Chuncheon. Whatever Leaves Behind was that MBC road documentary in 2023 with actor Lee Sang-yoon and me riding motorbikes. I really loved it. Through that show I met an island postman, a house‑call doctor… I also collaborated on a civic group project with them afterward. It made me realize society functions because these people consistently live their lives. They lived so passionately, passing things on to the next generation. I respect that everyday perseverance.

Reflection, Values & People

GQ: I’ve noticed a recurring theme you often mention—some concept or value that you refer to often without realizing. What do you think that is?
NG: What is it? Maybe a value or concept… Basics. The fundamentals. I focus strongly on that. Common sense—not something grand, but simply the idea of all of us living well together. What do you think, journalist?

GQ: People.
NG: Yes, people! I love people, which can be hard at times.

GQ: Why hard? People don’t just make you smile—they can make you cry. Why do you always say you love people?
NG: It’s frustrating sometimes. But still, I think living alone is tough—we’re social creatures. People can hurt you, yes—but hope, reasons to live, courage—all of that starts with people. That feels fundamental. I saw something once: a true, strong person doesn’t reject the order of the world they were born into—not the unjust parts to fix, but basic order. Respect, empathy, consideration—that's the basic order. I believe people are that: the social order, the foundation. Even in acting or working as a journalist, ultimately, all of it depends on understanding people.

GQ: I often think humans are lone islands in the end.
NG: I think that too—it’s a thought I have during hurtful moments: aren’t people essentially alone? You have to trample someone in competition to get ahead. But you can approach it more maturely. For example: if two cups are placed and someone yells “Go!” in a game to see who grabs first—they say I sometimes have strong competitiveness—but when I play rock-paper-scissors or basketball with friends, I’m not competitive. If I lose, I lose; if I pay, I pay. But there are friends who go all-out, eyes blazing. I think, ‘Do I need all that?’ When that thought appears, loneliness follows.

Continuing Projects, Deeper Connections

GQ: You've mentioned that you followed up after Whatever Leaves Behind with more civic projects, like Behind : ) Chat – Actor Kim Nam-gil. *Personal Note: It's a self-development book by him, chatting with real professionals, yet calm, conscious people. Do support by buying the book. ; )*
NG: Yes! Broadcast interviews are comfortable, but they’re hard for those people. So I returned later to ask questions I’d wanted to ask. I still need to visit Monk Hyangmun again. We call each other sometimes—when he asks “When will you come?” I say “Soon.” He’s actually one year younger than me…

GQ: Do you speak formally to him?
NG: He’s the head monk! *laughs* And I’ve done temple stays before because being there felt calming. I wanted to go back to Monk Hyangmun’s temple, but I haven’t yet.

Emotional Equilibrium of Acting

GQ: You said you’ve been comforted by multiple conversations with the monk. One concept stands out: “maintaining homeostasis without constant stimulation.” Why did you laugh?
NG: Because it’s hard to do—how can you not be affected by stimulation?

GQ: True—finding the average point where both heat and cold return naturally feels difficult.
NG: I liked that idea too—but I haven’t found that “temperature” yet. What’s tricky as an actor is that we express emotion. Personally, I try to stay neutral: even when good things happen, I don’t exclaim “Wow!”; when bad things happen, I don’t dive into despair. I hold the middle ground—I'm used to it. But as an actor, that’s worrying—I wonder if I lack empathy.

GQ: In what way?
NG: For example, saying someone got into their dream university—they might expect me to react excitedly. I might clap calmly and say, “Well, happiness isn't always loud.” I’m aware it’s the natural reaction, but I don’t always have that spark. As Kim Nam-gil (the person), not as an actor, I’ve managed my emotions that way. Good times follow bad, and vice versa. So my acting feels dry sometimes—I wonder if that’s from living too controlled.

GQ: You seem to accept life’s ups and downs.
NG: Always. After Bad Guy, I had to enlist in the military. Things were rising then suddenly pulled down. I thought, "Let’s handle the descent gracefully." When young, I competed to succeed, but I realized actors have unique colors and life paths, so I committed to a different kind of competition—on your own terms. It’s harder, but I trained myself in that way.

GQ: Bad Guy was after Queen Seondeok, where you rose as Prince Bidam, and then you enlisted. You said later that being forced into maturity benefited you.
NG: People wouldn’t know I woke up suddenly at night, startled, thinking: I earned money to be filial, then I’m back to square one? But when scripts came in—say five—the ones I truly wanted were only one or two. When successful, a hundred scripts come, but only two or three are meaningful to me. That gap makes people treat you like you have the world. The military prevented me from going off track—two years with no exits forced me to train myself. After that, I accepted things faster and felt more at ease.

GQ: So it was a valuable time.
NG: Absolutely. No moment is wasted. I tell people: Your position is because of how you’ve lived. Luck plays a part—but consistency wins. Work hard every day. I want a life where I collapse into bed by 11 or 12. *laughs*

GQ: You asked: how do you find equilibrium as an actor—how'd you do it?
NG: That’s the difficult part—acting draws on life experience. Even though I’m good in some areas, I lack the experiences those senior actors had. Emotion isn’t built in three months training—it’s how you live. If I keep living too dryly, what happens when a director asks me to cry? I might respond, “Really? Do tears come now?”

GQ: But in serious emergencies, don't you sometimes cry?
NG: Right. As the journalist said, “Director, did you see Hospital 24 Hours? *Personal Note: a docu-show about patients' struggles with injuries/pain within the hospital. Do correct me if I'm wrong*  People deliver facts calmly, but the audience cries.” If I cry at that moment, it can be wrong. Directors want authentic emotion, too. So I keep working on the gap.

Reflection on The Shameless, Aging as an Actor

GQ: It’s been exactly ten years since The Shameless was released.
NG: That role was a huge, lucky opportunity.

GQ: You said, if filmed now, you’d do it better.
NG: Yes. It’s not that I’ve grown as an actor per se—but I look back and feel “I was so young.” There's a certain aura that comes with life lived. I think Bad Guy, Queen Seondeok, and The Fiery Priest matched their eras—and they shine in memory. If asked to do Bad Guy again—no, I wouldn’t be confident. But The Shameless feels different—I feel it could be different now, layered by experience. That idea still intrigues me.

GQ: I saw the film for the first time—and I’m glad I watched it now, not ten years ago.
NG: *expressively nods* Oh! I got goosebumps. That's right, that's right. Aren't you agree?

GQ: I think it's only now that people will realize this movie's genre is love.
NG: Exactly. If you’re in your late 30s or early 40s—or even your 20s, but have had fierce, heart-wrenching experiences—then The Shameless becomes a film that says “Pour a shot of soju.”

GQ: Usually, people say that role was their best—but you say you could do it better now?
NG: It was overwhelming at the time—even the final line, “Happy New Year, XXX.” What does it mean? I knew what it meant, intellectually—yet I felt pressure. I felt that as a public artist, everyone needed to understand it. Now, I understand it much more deeply. Other works may have shone brightest then, but The Shameless is one I want to revisit—tone it back, find balance—‘hardboiled noir melodrama’, not over-exerting ambition, but a calmer energy.

GQ: Which scene do you imagine differently now?
NG: At the end, when Doyeon (Kim Hye-kyung) says, 'Did you really mean that?' — that hesitation. And then when I get out of the car alone and shoot Seongwoong  with the gun. Even from inside the car, I was struggling — should I go through with this or not? That inner conflict. The expression on my face when I caught Seongwoong. And on the way there, sitting next to Hye-kyung in the car, the way I looked at the earrings she was wearing... Those earlier scenes, when I playfully said things like, 'Sharp eye, huh?' — I think those were the moments I did best. But the later scenes, if I were to do them now... *with a playful face* I might go, 'Oh? You're wearing earrings today?' And then *speaking like Hye-kyung* 'That thing about wanting to live together — that was a lie, right?' *opens eyes wide as if holding back tears* 'Don’t ask me. I can’t answer. I’m only looking forward. Go. Go. Just get out of the car!' Something like that? Hahaha. At that time, I felt like I was just overwhelmed by the situation. I was too caught up in things like, ‘This is how I should express this,’ or ‘This is the kind of situation it is.’

GQ: I see.
NG: I believe now I could be subtler, calmer. See the earring with neutrality, hesitate, look into eyes… and later, in the rain where I waited for days—that time I felt like a soaked rat. Now I’d channel the wounded wild wolf—not shivering with cold, but aware of cowardice yet unable to help myself. That final line, “Happy new year” would carry more—because it was love that it was stabbed. I’d capture that more honestly.

GQ: A decade of life has accumulated.
NG: Yes. Life and relationships layered over time. I’d film it again if I could. *laughs*

Towards Empathy and Support

GQ: You often describe yourself as someone who talks a lot, but from what I’ve seen, much of what you say tends to be about embracing and caring for others.
NG: The thing I say most often when someone asks, 'Are you okay?' is, 'I’m okay no matter what.' I really am okay. It’s a positive mindset, but also... I don’t know, I just feel okay. Because, you know, there are hardships or uncomfortable relationships that come from dealing with other people. In that sense, I think I say, 'I’m really okay.' I truly am — as long as you’re okay. If my mom’s okay, then I’m okay. I say things like that a lot. That phrase, ‘Let things be for the sake of peace,’ comes into play in moments like these sometimes.

GQ: But isn’t that actually not being okay?
NG: No, not really. In fact, I’m actually pretty... in some ways, I’m just very simple-minded, so I forget things really quickly. People even ask me, 'How do you manage to memorize scripts?' — that’s how forgetful I am.

GQ: How do you comfort Kim Nam-gil (as a person to support himself)?
NG: People. Talking with people a lot helps. Even now, talking like this makes things clearer: my feelings, my emotions. When acting, being able to share perspectives matters. If something upsets me, thinking alone narrows me. Holding it in traps me. But talking with others helps me realize “I was wrong,” or “It’s nothing.” That’s how I comfort and control myself—not just riding motorcycles (which is great in the moment but exhausting afterward). Ultimately, what gives me energy is people. It’s ironic—hurt by one person, healed by another. Over time, you can come to embrace even the person who hurt you. People won’t stay calm forever—they’ll swing back and forth. Expectation leads to disappointment. Expectation itself is my own desire. Everything starts with me.