On a plot of wasteland in Busan, South Korea, by night, two people are handling a third. “The actor being directed” poses, turning into a statue. Actually, the poses are borrowed from rock stars on stage. But Patti Smith and Iggy Pop are relieved of all their props. In Jon Mikel Euba's (1967) One Minute in Busan, a car’s headlights replace footlights and sequins stand in for ordinary clothes. Attitudes become simple poses. What we see are quotations out of context. The evocative power of the icon blurs. All that remains are vague familiar images; the dramatic side is dissolved. From the action that unfolds during this minute, there comes a tension between rhetoric and prosaicness of the image.