Lee Soon-jae, the actor who stayed on stage until the end, died in the early hours of November 25, 2025, at 91.
He described himself as an active performer and often blurred the line between his work and his life.
Even at an advanced age, he kept his commitments to projects and to audiences until the end.
His life offers younger actors a performance philosophy and prompts wider social reflection.
"The Unstoppable Active" — Questions Lee Soon-jae Left
He was always on stage.
Born in 1934 in Hoeryong, then part of what is now North Korea, Lee began acting in 1956 with a stage debut.
For some 69 years he met the public through theater, film, television, and variety shows.
He moved between theater and camera work, embracing drama, comedy, and entertainment shows.
Meanwhile, his appearances in sitcoms and travel programs suggested new possibilities for older performers on screen.
A 69-year trajectory.
He started as a contracted actor with TBC (a commercial broadcaster in Korea in the 1960s) and went on to appear in around 140 television dramas.
Across those works, one can find the solemnity of historical dramas, the spontaneity of sitcoms, and the human touch of variety shows.
He also taught at university and took part in public life, including serving in the National Assembly for a term.
His activities beyond acting consolidated his identity as a public figure as well as a performer.
A single image or clip can show the time he spent with audiences.
However, his words and actions carry meaning that goes beyond any one video.
Acting as obligation.
He treated acting as an obligation of life.
The stage was not merely a job; it was proof of his existence.
Even from a hospital bed his attention to camera and stage never faltered.
When his eyesight had severely declined, he still tried to continue, asking others to read lines or vowing to memorize them himself.
Why he was admired.
He showed deep professional responsibility.
By placing his promise to the audience first, he reminded many what it means to be an actor.
His second career peak at 72, when he earned wide acclaim for a role in a sitcom, was not mere rediscovery.
It proved older actors can adapt to new genres and reach new viewers.
The public embraced him as father, teacher, and friend, showing how his performances created cross-generational empathy.
Through him, the social value of acting was reaffirmed.
His teaching and public service extended his contribution beyond performance.
Training younger actors and participating in civic life were forms of social responsibility.
At the same time, his consistent standards set a professional benchmark for colleagues and students.
Those standards could be strict, but they offered a model of professional care.
The shadow of overwork.
Respect must be balanced with critical perspective.
Lee's case is no exception.
Records show he continued filming when his vision was nearly gone.
That demonstrates commitment, but it also raises safety and ethical questions in production.
If relentless work is celebrated as the only virtue, it can place unspoken pressure on younger generations.
Not every performer will have Lee's physical resilience or willpower, and that reality must be acknowledged.
Moreover, continuing to work in poor health can affect a project's artistic result.
Because acting depends on a harmony of body and mind, physical limits are tied to the final work.
The lack of systematic protections and compassionate planning on some sets remains an issue.
Respecting actors means more than insisting they appear on stage; it means protecting health and dignity through practical measures.
There is also a risk Lee's example could be used to justify pushing older actors into demanding roles.
Casting decisions should weigh each individual's health and capability, not rely on symbolic precedent.
An image captures a career and an expression, but the responsibilities behind it are a public concern.
Issues of aging, care, and health extend beyond the individual and require institutional attention.
Questions for the next generation.
How should we evaluate who is still 'active'?
This is not just an actors' issue.
Lee's life can be both an example and a warning.
It can inspire younger artists while cautioning against blind imitation.
The entertainment industry should begin a more mature conversation about how to work with older performers.
Systems must protect artistic dignity while preserving the quality of production.
For example, flexible shooting schedules, health monitoring, and longer rehearsal periods should be considered.
Such measures are not mere safety rules; they create a sustainable creative environment.
Also, we should balance audience expectation and industry realities.
Audiences may seek nostalgia, but producers must consider practical limits.
Words he left and the questions they raise.
He often expressed gratitude to audiences while alive.
Those words condensed a lifelong conviction.
His acting life was a record of constant challenge.
Ultimately, Lee's life looks like the portrait of someone who loved acting itself.
In short, his death is a personal loss and a starting point for public debate about the future of theater and broadcasting.
With respect and concern coexisting, we must find ways to protect both performers' rights and the integrity of creative work.
The question to readers is direct. Which should come first in your view?
Should we keep the tradition of honoring an actor's active status, or should health and safety be the overriding priority?
