For her 60th birthday, Korean veteran Yuh-Jung Youn made a promise to herself. She would only work with those she trusts. Even if her ventures fell short, she would not be particularly concerned about the outcome, as long as she personally valued the people who made them.

This late life philosophy, born of decades of limited choice and professional trauma, brought her to Minari, director Lee Isaac Chung’s semi-autobiographical story about a Korean family with roots in Arkansas. Youn’s bittersweet performance as grandmother Soonja in the affectionate immigration drama earned her an Oscar nomination for best supporting actress, the first for a Korean actress.

“I, a 73-year-old Asian, could never have dreamed of being nominated for an Oscar,” said Youn on a video call from her home in Seoul. “‘Minari’ brought me a lot of presents.”

As she recounted this triumph and the many pitfalls that preceded it, her thoughtful expression often broke out into an affable smile, even happy laughter. Clad in a low-key black top and long necklace, her calm presence was effortlessly graceful. She got away with no rush or greeting, but was determined to make her ideas understandable. Occasionally she would ask a friend off camera for help with certain English words to pinpoint each point.

She was surprised that her co-star Steven Yeun was the first Asian-American artist to receive a nomination for best actor: “All I can say is, it’s time! The success of ‘Parasite’ has definitely helped Korean artists gain more recognition, she added.

This film, directed by Bong Joon Ho, was the first to win non-English best picture, and it has turned into Youn’s Oscar run in other ways.

She’d gotten back from filming a new project in Vancouver, British Columbia, an Apple TV drama called Pachinko, just in time to hear the announcement of her nomination. At first she felt numb. Then the Korean news media reported on their chances. “It is very stressful. They think I’m a soccer player or an Olympian, “she said, adding,” This pressure is really tough on me. “Because of Bong’s film,” they have hope that I can win. I keep telling him, “It’s all because of you!”

Bong, a fan of Kim Ki-Young’s “Woman of Fire,” the 1971 film in which Youn made her feature film debut, envied her awards season experience during the pandemic. “He said to me, ‘You’re lucky you can just sit down and make Zoom calls. America has a prize race and you have to go here and there and everywhere. ‘I thought races were only for horses,’ she said.

She makes a strong push to the goal. Youn is nominated for her performance and as part of the “Minari” ensemble at the SAG Awards on Sunday. She is also ready for an Independent Spirit Award later this month. And it has already received awards from more than 20 groups of critics.

It’s the final turn in a career spanning more than 50 years in Korean television and film – including a recent cooking reality show titled “Youn’s Kitchen” and a new non-fiction series in a guest house, “Youn’s Stay” – but the self – I never imagined a life in the performing arts. Her international breakthrough, like everything else along the way, seems to her by chance.

“It’s embarrassing,” she said. “Most people fell in love with the films or the theater. But in my case it was just an accident. “

When she was a teenager in the early 1960s, she attended an MC for a children’s game show on a television station and invited them to give presents to the audience: “After that, I got the check and it was good money.” Similar jobs followed until a director suggested she audition for a drama. Although she hesitated, she was driven by need: she had failed her college entrance exam and deeply embarrassed her mother.

“To tell the truth, I didn’t know what acting was,” she said. “I tried to memorize the line and do whatever they asked me to do. At the time, I didn’t know if I was enjoying it or if I didn’t like it. “

As it was on the rise in the mid-1970s, Youn married and moved to Florida, where her husband attended university. She spent nearly a decade as a housewife, raising her two American-born children. Then she divorced and returned to Korea as a single mother. Her fame was gone and the ingrained sexism in Korean society made her career resumption a cruel affair. “The audience called and said, ‘She’s divorced. She shouldn’t be on TV, “she recalled, adding,” Now they like me a lot. It’s very strange, but it’s human. ”

In order to send her two sons to college, she accepted parts almost indiscriminately. But when she was 60 and was no longer obliged to support her family financially, she could only invest in people she believed in, like the writer Hong Sang-soo, who occasionally frustrates her for the many recordings he requested , and Im Sang-soo, who cast her in roles unknown to a Korean actress of her age. In “The Taste of Money” (2013), for example, Youn embodies a powerful woman who sexually harasses her younger male secretary.

Youn’s close friend, producer In-Ah Lee, introduced her to Chung, the director of Minari, at a film festival in Busan. Chung adored her like Bong in “Woman of Fire” and impressed her with his knowledge or her early work. She wanted to know more about him. “Everyone is teasing me about it now,” she said. “I fell in love with Isaac because he is a very calm man. I wish he were my son too. “

In each film, Chung said via email, “She does something that is surprising or unexpected. I felt that her own life and approach to life was very close to the part I had written. He added that the actress is known in South Korea for her big heart and matter-of-fact manner, and he knew she would bring those qualities to the role of Minari “in an audience-inviting way.”

Critic Kristen Yoonsoo Kim wrote for The Nation and said that Youn “steals the limelight; Even if she leans towards caricature, her Soonja brings the much-needed humor and vitality to a drama that could otherwise easily go to its knees. “(Kim’s reviews also appear in the New York Times.)

When Youn read the script, the dangers of the Korean-American experience and how it doesn’t exactly fit into a single identity carried along with her. “Maybe I made this film for my two sons because I knew how they felt,” she said.

Chung convinced her when she asked if he wanted her to imitate his grandmother, and he replied that this was not his goal. She valued the freedom to create a character that goes beyond what’s on the page. Still, it was Chung’s sensitive approach that she valued.

She remembered the chaotic first day of filming Minari in the heat of Tulsa, Okla. Chung could see she was suffering, Youn recalled. “I could feel his respect and I was worried.”

In contrast, she admitted, she thought that the many scenes she shared with the inexperienced young actor Alan S. Kim, who plays her grandson, would test her patience. I thought, ‘It’s going to be miserable. What should I do with this one? ‘”But when she noticed that the boy had memorized his lines, her concern disappeared. She shares his work ethic.

Intensive preparation had always served Youn as a shield against self-confidence about her background. “I didn’t go to drama school or study film, so I had an inferiority complex. I was practicing so hard when I got a script, ”she explained.

But she is skeptical about further prospects in Hollywood. Youn, who often apologized during the interview for how bluntly she believed she was sounding in a language that wasn’t her own, fears that her lack of English could be an obstacle. But if she has time to learn her dialogue, she’s ready to try.

“Come to think about it, it was all worth it,” said Youn. “At the time, I only had minor roles and most people hated me. I’ve been thinking about just quitting or going back to the States. “But she is a survivor, she added. “I’m still alive and finally enjoying acting.”