Shin Hye-sun: The Life Story Behind Korea's Talented Star
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Listen to Shin Hye-sun speak for thirty seconds and you will understand why people in Korean television call her the Diction Fairy. Every word comes out clean, every syllable lands where it should, and even in a long, emotional scene, her voice never blurs or rushes. That is not an accident, and it is not a trick of a good microphone. It is the result of years of training, of paying attention to the small mechanics of speech, and of caring about language in a way that most actors never do. In a country where viewers notice a mumbled line and talk about it online the next morning, a clear voice is a gift, and Shin Hye-sun has turned that gift into a career that now stretches across more than a decade, from a school corridor in 2012 to a Netflix thriller in 2026.
But a clear voice alone does not explain her. Plenty of people speak clearly and never become actors. What explains Shin Hye-sun is the combination of that voice with something else: a willingness to be a different person in every story. She has been a poor daughter fighting for her family, a violinist who wakes from a long sleep, a ballerina who does not believe in love, a queen whose body holds the soul of a modern chef, a woman who remembers nineteen past lives, a photographer who returns to her home island after losing everything, and a woman with two different personalities living in one life. Put those characters in a room together and they would have nothing to say to each other. That is the point. Shin Hye-sun does not have a single character she plays again and again. She has a method, and the method lets her become someone new each time.
The road to that freedom was long, and it was not glamorous. She spent five years in small and supporting parts before anyone trusted her with a lead, and those five years are the most important part of her story. They are the years when she learned how a set works, how to make a small part matter, how to wait without giving up, and how to keep her voice clear when she was tired and the script was late. When her first lead finally came, in a fifty-episode weekend drama called My Golden Life, she was ready in a way that a younger, less patient actress could never have been. The country noticed, and it has been noticing ever since.
A Schoolgirl Role with Her Own Name
Shin Hye-sun was born on 31 August 1989 in Seoul, South Korea, and she studied film art at Sejong University. That choice of subject matters, because film art is not only about acting. It is about how films are made, how a camera sees a face, how a story is put together, and how a performance fits inside a larger picture. A student of film art learns to think about the whole work, not only about her own lines, and that way of thinking shows in Shin Hye-sun’s career. She picks projects that make sense as stories, not only as showcases for herself, and she is willing to take a part that serves the drama, even when it does not put her at the centre of every scene.
She passed an audition and made her debut in School 2013, the long-running school drama series, playing a schoolgirl who shared her own name, Shin Hye-sun. There is something fitting about that, a young actress playing a girl with her own name, as if the show was introducing her to the audience without any disguise. The part was small, and the series was an ensemble piece with many young actors, but it gave her a first taste of a real television set: the early calls, the long waits between scenes, the need to be ready the moment a director says action, and the need to do the same scene again and again until it is right. She was twenty-three, and she was at the very beginning of a career that would take five years to reach its first turning point.
Those early years are often skipped over in stories about famous people, as if they do not matter, but in her case they matter more than the fame that came later. A debut in a school drama does not make a star. It makes a working actor, and a working actor has to learn how to be useful. Shin Hye-sun learned that lesson early, and she learned it well. She showed up, she knew her lines, she listened to the other actors, and she did not try to steal scenes that were not hers. Directors notice that kind of behaviour, and they remember it when a bigger part comes up. The reputation she built in those years, as a reliable, prepared, clear-voiced young actress, was the foundation for everything that followed.
Seoul, the city where she was born, also shaped her in a quiet way. It is a city of pressure, of exams, of long commutes, of families who sacrifice a great deal so their children can do well, and a young person growing up there learns how to work hard without complaining. Shin Hye-sun has rarely complained in public about the difficulty of her early years, and she has rarely talked about her private life in detail. That privacy is not an accident. It is a choice, and it is a choice that has let her keep the focus on her work. When the audience watches her, they see the character, not the gossip, and that is a rare thing in a world where famous people are expected to share everything.
Five Years in the Background
The five years after School 2013 were a slow climb, and it is worth following them step by step, because they show how a career is built out of small parts. In 2014, she appeared in Angel Eyes, playing the young version of a character, and in High School King of Savvy, playing Go Yoon-joo. In 2015, she took bigger supporting roles in Oh My Ghost, a romantic comedy about a shy young woman possessed by a ghost, and in She Was Pretty, a romantic comedy about a woman who was beautiful as a child and plain as an adult. The two dramas were both romantic comedies, but her characters in them were very different, and that difference is worth noticing. In one she played a ballerina whose life had been changed by an accident, and in the other she played Han Seol, a woman with her own story to tell. She was learning how to make a supporting character feel like a real person, not like a piece of furniture in someone else’s story.
In 2016, the climb continued. She appeared in Five Enough, also known as Five Children, playing Lee Yeon-tae, a young woman in a large family drama, and her performance, with its mix of innocence and stubborn romance, began to attract attention. Her pairing with Sung Hoon in that drama was popular with viewers, and the drama itself passed thirty percent in ratings, which is a high number for a Korean weekend drama. In the same year, she appeared in The Legend of the Blue Sea, a big fantasy romance starring Jun Ji-hyun and Lee Min-ho, playing Cha Si-ah, a supporting character in a story about a mermaid and a con man. Working in a drama with stars of that size is a test, because a supporting actor can easily disappear. Shin Hye-sun did not disappear. She held her own, and she learned how a large production works, with its many cameras, its many sets, and its many famous faces.
In 2017, she appeared in Stranger, a serious crime drama about a prosecutor who cannot feel emotions, playing Young Eun-soo, a prosecutor in a story full of corruption and murder. Stranger was praised by critics, and it showed that she could handle dark, adult material as well as romantic comedy. She also appeared in the film A Day in 2017, playing Mi-kyung, the wife of a character played by Byun Yo-han, in a story about a man who relives the same day again and again. A film role, even a supporting one, is different from a television role, because the camera is closer, the takes are longer, and there is nowhere to hide. She did not hide. She did the work, and she was ready for what came next, even though she could not have known how soon it would come.
Five years is a long time to wait for a lead role, and many actors would have given up, or would have become bitter, or would have started to believe that the lead would never come. Shin Hye-sun did not do any of those things, as far as anyone can tell from the outside. She kept taking the parts that were offered, she kept learning, and she kept her voice clear. That is a boring story, in a way, because there is no drama in it, no sudden break, no lucky accident. But it is the truest kind of story about how a career is made, because most careers are made in exactly that way: slowly, quietly, one small part at a time, until one day the phone rings and the part on the other end is the one you have been waiting for.
Fifty Episodes That Changed Everything
That phone call came in 2017, when she was cast as the lead in My Golden Life, a KBS weekend drama that ran from 2017 into 2018. She played Seo Ji-an, a young woman from a poor family who gets a chance at a better life when she is mistaken for the lost daughter of a rich family, and who has to decide what she is willing to do to keep that chance. The drama was fifty episodes long, which is a marathon by any standard, and it became one of the most watched Korean dramas of its time, with ratings that passed forty percent and with more than eight million viewers, according to reports about its audience. A fifty-episode drama is a test of endurance, of memory, of patience, and of the ability to keep a character alive for months, and Shin Hye-sun passed that test.
Ji-an works as a character because she is not simple. She is poor, proud, angry, hopeful, and afraid, all at the same time, and she has to make choices that hurt the people she loves. Shin Hye-sun played her with a directness that made viewers feel they knew her. When Ji-an was angry, the audience could feel the anger. When she was ashamed, the audience could feel the shame. When she was happy, the audience could feel the happiness, and that is a rare thing in a long drama, where it is easy for a performance to become flat or repetitive. She kept Ji-an alive for fifty episodes, and she did it without ever letting the character become a cartoon.
The success of My Golden Life changed her life in a practical way, too. After a drama that big, an actress gets more offers, more advertisements, more attention, and more pressure to choose the next project well. She won prizes for the role, including a top excellence prize at the APAN Star Awards and prizes at the KBS Drama Awards, and she was suddenly one of the most talked-about actresses in Korea. She was twenty-eight, and she had spent five years in supporting roles, and all of that time had prepared her for the moment when the country finally saw her as a leading lady. She did not waste it. She chose her next roles with care, and she chose roles that were different from Ji-an, because she did not want to be trapped inside one character for the rest of her career.
There is a lesson in My Golden Life that goes beyond acting, and it is about the value of a long, hard job. A fifty-episode drama is not a glamorous thing. It is long days, late nights, scripts that change, scenes that are shot out of order, and a character who has to be kept steady through all of it. Shin Hye-sun did that job, and she did it well, and the reward was not only fame. The reward was proof, to herself and to the industry, that she could carry a story on her own shoulders for months, and that the audience would follow her. That proof is worth more than any single prize, because it is the kind of proof that opens doors for years afterwards.
A Violinist, a Ballerina, a Queen
After My Golden Life, Shin Hye-sun moved quickly into a series of leading roles that showed how wide her range had become. In 2018, she starred in The Hymn of Death, a short drama special with Lee Jong-suk, playing Yun Sim-deok, Korea’s first professional soprano singer, a real historical figure whose life ended in tragedy. Playing a real person is a different kind of work from playing an invented character, because the audience knows, or can find out, what the real person did, and the actor has to respect that truth while also making the character feel alive. She played Sim-deok with a sadness and a dignity that made the short drama feel much larger than its length.
In the same year, she starred in Still 17, with Yang Se-jong, playing Woo Seo-ri, an aspiring violinist whose life is turned upside down by an accident that leaves her in a coma for thirteen years. When she wakes, she is thirty years old in a body that has not aged, and she has to learn how to live in a world that has moved on without her. It is a strange, sad, funny story, and it asked Shin Hye-sun to play a woman who is both a teenager and an adult, both innocent and experienced. She won a top excellence prize at the SBS Drama Awards for the role, and the drama was loved for its warmth and its honesty about what it feels like to lose time.
In 2019, she starred in Angel’s Last Mission: Love, with Kim Myung-soo, playing Lee Yeon-seo, a ballerina who has lost her sight and her faith in love, and who is visited by an angel who has to help her find happiness. A ballerina who cannot dance is a painful idea, and Shin Hye-sun played Yeon-seo with a sharpness and a vulnerability that made the fantasy feel real. She won a top excellence prize at the KBS Drama Awards for the role, and the drama showed that she could lead a fantasy romance as well as a family drama or a crime story.
Then, in 2020 and 2021, came the role that many viewers outside Korea know her best for: Mr. Queen, on tvN, in which she played a dual lead role. She was Kim So-yong, a queen in the Joseon period, and she was also Jang Bong-hwan, a male chef from the modern world whose soul travels back in time and becomes trapped inside the queen’s body. That is a difficult idea to play, because the actor has to be both a queen and a man, both graceful and crude, both frightened and funny, often in the same scene. Shin Hye-sun played it with a boldness that made the drama a hit, and she was nominated for a Baeksang Best Actress prize for the work. A nomination at Baeksang, for a comedy-fantasy, is a sign that the industry took the performance seriously, and that they saw past the jokes to the skill underneath them.
Nineteen Lives and a Hometown Return
In 2023, Shin Hye-sun took on two more leading roles that could hardly have been more different from each other. In See You in My 19th Life, on tvN, she played Ban Ji-eum, a woman who can remember all of her past lives, and who wants to find a man she loved in her eighteenth life. The idea is a fantasy, but the feelings are real: what would it be like to remember everything, to carry the weight of nineteen lives, to know things about people that they do not know about themselves? Shin Hye-sun played Ji-eum with a weariness and a warmth that made the fantasy feel human. She was not playing a superpower. She was playing a person who is tired of starting again, and who wants, just once, to finish something.
In the same period, she starred in Welcome to Samdal-ri, with Ji Chang-wook, playing Cho Sam-dal, a photographer who returns to her home town on Jeju Island after her career in Seoul falls apart. The drama is about going home, about the people who knew you when you were young, about the shame of failing in the big city, and about the slow work of starting again. Sam-dal is proud, funny, and hurt, and Shin Hye-sun played her with a lightness that made the drama feel like a warm place to visit. A photographer sees the world through a lens, and Sam-dal sees her home town through the lens of her past, and the drama is about learning to see it clearly, without the filter of old pain.
In 2024, she starred in Dear Hyeri, playing two personalities in one story, Joo Eun-ho and Joo Hye-ri, a woman living with dissociative identity, a condition in which a person has more than one distinct way of being in the world. That is a sensitive subject, and it is easy to get wrong, and it is easy to turn into a trick. Shin Hye-sun played the two sides with care, giving each one a different voice, a different way of moving, and a different way of looking at other people, and the drama was praised for its honesty. Playing two people in one body is a test that few actors pass, and she had already passed a version of that test in Mr. Queen, where she played a queen and a chef in one body. Dear Hyeri was a more serious version of the same challenge, and she met it with the same skill.
Her film work in these years also grew. She made her film lead debut in Innocence in 2020, playing Ahn Jung-in, a lawyer who defends her mother, played by Bae Jong-ok, against a charge of murder. She was nominated for a film newcomer prize at the Blue Dragon Film Awards for that role, and at Baeksang as well. She also appeared in Collectors in 2020, playing Yoon Se-hee, an art curator in a caper film about a team that steals artefacts, and she played lead roles in Don’t Buy the Seller in 2023, Brave Citizen in 2023, playing So Shi-min, a teacher who fights back against bullying, and Following in 2024, playing Han So-ra. Each film asked for something different, and each one added a new colour to her work.
A Flood Gift and the Next Chapter
Shin Hye-sun’s public life also includes a quiet act that says a great deal about her. On 30 August 2022, she donated 100 million won to help people affected by the floods in South Korea that year, through a charity called The Neighbors Honors Club. A donation of that size is not a small gesture, and it is not the kind of thing an actor does for publicity, because it was reported simply and without a fuss. It tells us that she pays attention to the world outside her work, and that she is willing to use her success to help people who have lost their homes. That is a part of her story that deserves to be remembered alongside the dramas and the prizes, because it shows what kind of person she is when the cameras are off.
In April 2025, she signed with a new agency, Management Seesun, after renewing her contract with her previous company, YNK Entertainment, in December 2021. A change of agency, like a change of job in any field, is a statement about the future, and it suggests that she is thinking about the next stage of her career with care. In 2026, she starred in the Netflix mystery thriller The Art of Sarah, playing several characters with different personalities, and she also appeared in Filing for Love. The Art of Sarah is a fitting title for this stage of her life, because her whole career has been an art of becoming someone else, and of doing it so well that the audience forgets the actress and remembers only the person on the screen.
She has also been honoured outside acting, receiving a Presidential Commendation from the National Tax Service in 2024, and she was listed in the Forbes Korea Power Celebrity 40 in 2024. Those honours are not about a single drama. They are about a career, about a person who has worked steadily, honestly, and well for more than a decade, and who has earned the respect of the industry and the public. Shin Hye-sun is now in her mid-thirties, and she has been acting since 2012, and the work she has done in that time is a reminder that a clear voice, a patient apprenticeship, and a willingness to change can take a person further than any single lucky break.
My Take:
I have been thinking about the phrase Diction Fairy, and about what it means to be known for the way you speak. Most actors are known for a face, or for a role, or for a scandal, or for a smile. Shin Hye-sun is known for the clarity of her words, and I find that both beautiful and a little bit sad. It is beautiful because it means that people have noticed the work she puts into the smallest part of her job, the part that most viewers take for granted. It is a little bit sad because it suggests that clear speech is so rare that it needs a special name, as if most people have forgotten how to speak properly. I do not think she minds the name, and I do not think she asked for it, but I think it tells us something about her priorities. She cares about language, and she cares about being understood, and in a world full of mumbling and rushing, that is a radical thing.
What I admire most about her, though, is not her voice. It is her patience. Five years in supporting roles is a long time, and I want to be honest about how long that feels when you are living it. Five years is the length of a university degree and a first job. Five years is long enough to watch friends get married, to watch younger actors pass you by, to watch the industry change around you. Five years is long enough to start doubting yourself, to start wondering whether the lead role will ever come, to start thinking about doing something else with your life. Shin Hye-sun waited five years, and she waited without making a fuss, and she waited while doing the work well, and I think that is a kind of strength that is easy to miss because it does not look dramatic. It looks boring. It looks like showing up, learning lines, listening to other actors, and going home. But that boring strength is the reason she was ready when My Golden Life came, and it is the reason she has lasted since.
I also think about the fifty episodes, and I want to say something about what fifty episodes means for a human being. A drama that long is not a sprint, and it is not even a marathon. It is a season of your life. You wake up early, you go to the set, you shoot scenes out of order, you cry in the morning and laugh in the afternoon, you learn lines late at night, you do it again the next day, and the next, and the next, for months. By the end of it, the character is not a costume you put on. The character is a part of you, and letting go of her is a little bit like losing a friend. Shin Hye-sun carried Seo Ji-an for fifty episodes, and she carried her without letting the performance go flat, and that is a remarkable thing. I think about how many actors would have run out of energy by episode twenty, or would have started to repeat themselves, or would have stopped caring. She did not, and the audience could tell, and that is why the drama worked.
There is a part of her story that makes me think about my own life, and it is the part about playing so many different people. A violinist, a ballerina, a queen, a woman with nineteen lives, a photographer, a woman with two personalities. That is not a career. That is a series of lives, and I wonder what it does to a person to live so many lives in such a short time. I wonder whether she ever gets confused, whether she ever wakes up and has to remind herself which person she is today, whether she ever misses a character after the drama ends. I do not know the answers to those questions, because she does not talk about her private life in that way, and I am not going to invent answers for her. But I think the question itself is worth asking, because it tells us something about what acting costs. It is not only hard work. It is a kind of giving away of yourself, again and again, to people who are not real, and then taking yourself back again, and doing it again for the next story. That takes a strong person, and a person who knows who she is when the cameras stop.
I want to talk about Mr. Queen, because it is the role that I think shows her skill most clearly, and because it is also the role that could have gone badly wrong. A modern man trapped in the body of a historical queen is a joke, and it is easy to play a joke badly. You can play it too broadly, too loudly, too crudely, and the audience will laugh once and then get bored. Or you can play it too seriously, and the audience will wonder why a comedy feels so heavy. Shin Hye-sun found the middle, and she found it by playing both sides honestly: the queen who is frightened and proud, and the chef who is confused and funny, and the person who is both of them at once. That is a hard thing to do, and it is a hard thing to do in a long drama, where the joke has to stay funny for sixteen episodes. She did it, and she was nominated for a Baeksang prize for it, and I think that nomination matters more than a win would have, because it says that the industry saw the skill underneath the comedy, and that they respected it.
I also want to say something about the donation, because I think it is easy to skip over a donation in a story about acting, and I do not want to skip over it. One hundred million won is a lot of money, and she gave it to help people who had lost their homes in the floods of 2022. She did not make a big show of it, and she did not use it to promote a drama, and that quietness is the point. A person who gives quietly is a person who gives because they care, not because they want to be seen giving. I think that tells us more about Shin Hye-sun than any interview could, because an interview is a performance, and a donation is a decision. She decided to help, and she did it, and she moved on. I respect that, and I think it is a good reminder that fame is only useful if you use it for something beyond yourself.
If I could give one piece of advice to a young person who wants to do what Shin Hye-sun does, it would not be about voice training, although voice training matters. It would be about the five years. I would tell them to expect the five years, to plan for the five years, to use the five years, and not to be ashamed of them. The five years are not wasted time. They are the time when you learn how a set works, when you learn how to listen, when you learn how to make a small part matter, when you learn how to wait without giving up. Shin Hye-sun used her five years well, and when her chance came, she was ready. A young actor who skips the five years, or who resents them, or who tries to rush past them, will not be ready when the chance comes, and the chance will go to someone else. That is a hard truth, and it is a true one, and it applies to more than acting. It applies to any job, any skill, any dream that takes time.
There is also a lesson in her story about the value of being different every time. She has never played the same character twice, and she has never let the audience get comfortable with one version of her. That is a risky way to work, because the audience likes comfort, and they like to know what they are getting. But it is also a free way to work, because it means you are never trapped, and it means you are always learning. I think about the violinist who wakes from a coma, and the ballerina who cannot see, and the queen who is also a chef, and the woman who remembers nineteen lives, and I think about how much courage it takes to keep starting again. Each new character is a new risk, and each new risk could fail, and she takes the risk anyway, again and again. I admire that, and I want to remember it the next time I am afraid to try something new.
For a reader who is waiting, who is in the middle of their own five years, who is doing small work and wondering whether the big work will ever come, I think Shin Hye-sun’s story has a clear message, and it is a quiet one. It is this: keep your voice clear, keep your work honest, keep learning, and keep waiting, because the waiting is not the opposite of the work. The waiting is the work, and the day will come when the phone rings, and the part on the other end is the one you have been preparing for, even if you did not know you were preparing for it. She was ready, and I hope you will be ready too, and I hope that when your fifty episodes come, you will carry them the way she carried hers: with patience, with clarity, and with a voice that everyone can hear.
I want to add a thought about comedy, because Mr. Queen is a comedy, and comedy is often treated as less serious than drama, and I think that is a mistake. Making an audience laugh is hard, and making an audience laugh for sixteen episodes, in a story about a queen and a chef sharing one body, is even harder. It requires timing, it requires control, it requires the actor to know exactly how far to go and when to stop, and it requires the actor to trust that the audience will follow a joke that is also a little bit sad. Shin Hye-sun did all of that, and she did it while playing two people at once, and the fact that she was nominated for a Baeksang prize for a comedy tells me that the people who judge acting in Korea understood what she had done. A prize for a comedy is a rare thing, and it is a sign that the work was not only funny, but also true. I think young actors should be told that comedy is not a lesser art. It is a harder art, and it is an art that Shin Hye-sun has mastered.
There is one more thing I want to say, and it is about Dear Hyeri, because that drama deals with a subject that is easy to get wrong. A woman with two personalities is a real condition, and it is a condition that affects real people, and a drama that treats it as a trick, or as a joke, or as a mystery to be solved, can do real harm. Shin Hye-sun played the two sides with care, giving each one a different voice and a different way of moving, and the drama was praised for its honesty. I do not know how much research she did, or how she prepared, because she does not talk about her preparation in detail, and I am not going to invent a story about it. But the result on screen suggests that she took the subject seriously, and that she understood that the audience included people who live with this condition, or who love someone who does. That kind of respect is a part of acting that is rarely talked about, and it is a part that matters. An actor is not only an entertainer. An actor is a person who tells stories about other people, and those stories should be told with care.
I will end with her voice, because that is where I started, and because it is the thing I will remember longest. A clear voice is a small thing, and it is also a large thing. It means that the actor has done the work, that she has practised, that she cares about being understood, and that she respects the audience enough to speak properly. In a world where so much speech is mumbled, rushed, or drowned out by noise, a clear voice is a kind of gift, and Shin Hye-sun has given that gift to her audience for more than a decade. I hope she keeps giving it, I hope she keeps choosing roles that surprise us, and I hope that the next time a young actor is told that clear speech does not matter, someone points to Shin Hye-sun and says: it matters, and here is the proof, in fifty episodes, in nineteen lives, in a queen and a chef, in a violinist and a ballerina, and in a voice that never blurs, even when the story is at its hardest.
Frequently Asked Questions
Why do people in Korea call Shin Hye-sun the Diction Fairy?
The nickname comes from her clear and accurate way of speaking, which viewers and industry insiders have praised for years. Her diction means that every word in a line can be heard and understood, even in long emotional scenes. It has become one of the things she is best known for in Korean television.
How long did Shin Hye-sun work in small parts before her first lead?
She worked in supporting and minor roles for about five years, from her debut in School 2013 in 2012 until My Golden Life in 2017. During that time she appeared in dramas such as She Was Pretty, Five Enough, The Legend of the Blue Sea, and Stranger. Her first leading television role was Seo Ji-an in My Golden Life.
What made My Golden Life such a big moment for Shin Hye-sun?
My Golden Life was a fifty-episode KBS weekend drama that ran from 2017 into 2018, and it became one of the most watched Korean dramas of its time, with ratings passing forty percent. She played Seo Ji-an, a young woman from a poor family who gets a chance at a better life. The drama made her a leading actress and won her several prizes.
How does Shin Hye-sun play two people at once in Mr. Queen?
In Mr. Queen, which aired on tvN in 2020 and 2021, she plays Kim So-yong, a queen in the Joseon period, whose body holds the soul of Jang Bong-hwan, a male chef from the modern world. She shows both sides through different ways of speaking, moving, and reacting, often in the same scene. Her work in the drama earned her a Baeksang Best Actress nomination.
What is unusual about Ban Ji-eum in See You in My 19th Life?
Ban Ji-eum, played by Shin Hye-sun in the 2023 tvN drama, can remember all of her past lives, and she is living her nineteenth life. She wants to find a man she loved in her eighteenth life, and the story follows her as she tries to reconnect with him. The part asked her to play a woman who is both weary from remembering so much and warm enough to keep trying.
What film gave Shin Hye-sun her first lead movie role?
Her first lead film role was in Innocence, released in 2020, in which she played Ahn Jung-in, a lawyer who defends her mother against a charge of murder. She was nominated for newcomer prizes at the Blue Dragon Film Awards and the Baeksang Arts Awards for the performance. Before that, her film work had been in supporting roles, such as A Day in 2017.
What did Shin Hye-sun do after the 2022 floods in South Korea?
On 30 August 2022, she donated 100 million won to help people affected by the floods, through a charity called The Neighbors Honors Club. The donation was reported simply, without a large public campaign. It showed that she was willing to use her success to help people who had lost their homes.
