Not long afterward, articles about photo cards started pouring in:
[“Night” Lee Jeong-woo, Kim Seung-hoon Photo Cards: Carry One to Be the Coolest Kid at School!]
An item that features your favorite actors and characters from the film, yet is still easy to carry around—how could this not become a hit?
[High-Teen Stars! Fans Making Their Own Photo Cards! Is It Thanks to “Night”?]
[Brochure Companies Now Focusing on Photo Card Production…]
“Wow, I can’t believe these photo cards got so popular… I heard GOD is even making some. Are you sure you aren’t some time traveler?”
Spreading the articles out on the floor, Jun-seong looked at me in amazement.
“Photo cards are just more convenient than posters. Who’s going to carry a big poster around?”
“But how’d you know all this would happen?”
“Instinct.”
“Must be the universe working in your favor, huh?”
With arms folded, Jun-seong stared at the still huge pile of remaining photo cards.
“But what do we do with the rest of these? Seems like we’ve done enough already.”
“No, we haven’t gone far enough.”
Jun-seong tilted his head, confused.
“More? Are you some kind of Zhuge Liang? You never run out of plans.”
“A guerilla event.”
“Huh? Isn’t that basically a knock-off of Guerilla Concert?”
Guerilla Concert was a hugely popular TV variety segment around this time, part of a program called Sunday Sunday Night, or “Ilbam” for short. In that show, they’d pick a city and a target audience size, then promote the performance for one hour. Only if they hit that number of attendees would the show actually begin.
“Pretty much.”
“You lunatic. So are you saying we won’t screen the movie unless a certain number of people show up?”
“That would be robbery. No, we’ll go to theaters that are already full and bring the cast along.”
“Huh…”
“And we’ll hand out photo cards, too. Our top priority is reaching 2.5 million. We’ve got to throw everything we have into it, right?”
At my words, Jun-seong nodded.
“So the idea is people will think, ‘Hey, the actors might drop by our theater out of the blue,’ and that’ll make them more likely to watch the movie?”
“Exactly. See, you’re quick on the uptake.”
“You’re not just buttering me up so I’ll go along with this, right?”
He gave me a suspicious look, but he wasn’t entirely wrong.
“In any case, let’s get out there and draw in as many people as we can, going theater to theater across the country.”
“No rest for the weary, I guess.”
“You said your life depends on this, right? There’s no time to rest. Rest when you’re dead.”
“Well, if I die, I’m taking you with me.”
“Do as you please—take me or drag me; it’s up to you.”
A few days after the audience preview, Night (밤) officially premiered. But there was another film released on the same day:
A Country Girl Comes to the City!
There are plenty of films in this world that don’t exist in my own, but since this one was a direct competitor, I looked it up. Turned out it was produced by The Film H.
“Those jerks…”
Maybe they found another victim after failing to sign me…
The director’s name was Kim Eun-ha. If I recall correctly, she was talented but connected with a production company relatively late in life…
“A Country Girl Comes to the City!? Looks like it’s opening the same day as Night. Kim Eun-ha? She went to our school, right? And she’s already made her debut?”
Standing behind me, looking at the monitor, Jun-seong glanced at my expression.
“Why do you look so gloomy? Upset that she’s debuting at the same time? You thought you’d be the only one with a super-early debut?”
“That’s not it.”
Seemingly ignoring my denial, Jun-seong patted my shoulder and tried to console me.
“Don’t worry about it. Sure, The Film H is a decent-sized production company, but I’m certain we’ll beat them. Why get all worked up?”
“That’s not it, either.”
“Huh? Then what’s the problem?”
Kim Eun-ha’s life is about to turn into the one I experienced: drifting further from the film industry and barely scraping by on odd jobs, never getting to make a real movie again. It’s a miserable life.
Sighing repeatedly, I must’ve looked dejected. Frowning, Jun-seong checked The Film H again.
“Originally, she wasn’t the type to make comedies. What’s going on?”
Obvious, isn’t it?
Pressure from the production company and investors.
Later, Kim Eun-ha becomes known for her subtle, elegant commentary on social issues—never too direct, always nuanced. She’ll be lauded as an auteur, with solid experience in independent and short films. That’s how she succeeds in full-length features. But now she’s stepped right in it…
“Ugh…”
“Why the heavy sighs? It’s not even a big deal. We’re gonna win anyway!”
“I know.”
Any minute now, The Film H will start their media manipulation. They pulled the same stunt when I made Blue Moon: sabotage my film while using shady press tactics against any competition. Baek Jin-cheol must’ve been paying off some reporters regularly; certain newspapers always fell in line with whatever he wanted.
That’s why I need to prepare.
“Jun-seong, do you have any reporter contacts?”
“Sure. I’ve gotten to know a few recently. But why?”
“We need to set the stage.”
“Set the stage?”
“Call them. Tell them we’ve got loads of good stories for them.”
“You want me to feed them a line? Threatening reporters is dangerous, man.”
“Let’s just wait and see. Something’s about to happen.”
Puzzled, Jun-seong cocked his head.
“What’s going to happen?”
“Something dirty.”
“Dirty?”
He scratched the back of his head, looking uncertain.
“You’ll make the calls, right? Just set the meetings. The sooner the better.”
“Alright, alright…”
Sure enough, soon there would be a flood of articles. I vividly remember Baek Jin-cheol’s strategy:
“Dropping a scandal on release day looks too obvious. You do it the day after, so they lose that opening-day momentum.”
But I have no intention of letting him walk all over us so easily. I might not be able to take The Film H down immediately, but I can at least show them that messing with us is a bad idea.
A few days later, as expected…
[Exclusive: On-set Fight? “Night” Stars Lee Jeong-woo and Kim Seung-hoon Allegedly Don’t Get Along]
[Psychiatrist Kim XX: “Night” Isn’t Suitable for Teens… Shows Elevated Levels of Violence]
[Government Intervention Necessary? Reduce Screens for “Night” Over Social Concerns]
[Analysis of Teens’ Brains After Watching “Night”: IQ Lower Compared to Non-Viewers…]
These articles were so predictable.
It’s the same nonsense they used to slam comics and games, citing “concerns about children’s mental health.”
Back in the day, they claimed comics were depraved and even burned them, tanking our entire domestic comics industry. Meanwhile, Japan’s Dragon Ball soared to massive heights, and it wasn’t until webtoons emerged that our market started to recover. The same thing happened to video games: sensationalized stories about violence, like someone killing their sibling after playing Diablo II, led to widespread moral panic and stifled the Korean gaming scene.
Having seen this kind of smear campaign so many times, I didn’t even feel angry anymore.
“These lunatics… what are they trying to do? Teens? Are they kidding me…?”
But Jun-seong, who wasn’t immune to such tactics, crumpled up the newspapers, furious, and tossed them in the trash.
“This is insane. So if you watch a Western, you’ll suddenly want to go on a shooting spree?”
“Keep all those articles together,” I said, fishing them back out of the trash. “We need to note which reporters wrote them. It’s evidence they were paid off.”
“Right. I bought another set of papers for show. Figured you’d want them.”
Grinning, he gathered the rest of the newspapers and magazines from behind him.
“Show for who?”
“For myself. Raises my self-esteem.”
He gave a bright smile. In any case, we’d already taken precautions. We dropped enough hints with our friendly reporters, who’d soon start digging. We even suggested a headline:
[Collusion Between The Film H and the Press?]
That alone should stir things up.
“How’s the guerilla event going?” I asked.
“Lee Jeong-woo and Kim Seung-hoon are running around like crazy. They’re dead serious about hitting 2.5 million.”
It doesn’t really help to have the director showing up at these events. Audiences don’t really flock to directors—unless you’re already a star director. Actually… hold on.
“Hey, I might be a genius.”
“What now? Have you finally gone completely off the rails?”
“Call any broadcast station or show—anything that’ll let me do an interview.”
“Huh? You’re a rookie director. Would they even have you on?”
Jun-seong began scrolling through his phone contacts.
“I do have a number for a broadcasting reporter, but…”
“Tell them I’ll guarantee good ratings. Pitch it like, ‘Night’s director speaks out about the vicious articles—an exclusive interview!’ That’ll do it.”
“Will that work?”
“Sure. We’ve got a solid storyline that’ll grab viewers. A TV producer wouldn’t miss this chance.”
If we can get an interview on TV and simultaneously leak the story about The Film H’s ties with the press, the effect will be even better than I’d hoped.
“What’s with that creepy grin?”
“How dare you call it creepy! It’s the smile of justice.”
“Look in a mirror. Everyone else would call it creepy, not just me.”
At The Film H, they were already disappointed in the early box-office performance of A Country Girl Comes to the City!.
All that press manipulation hadn’t helped much; Night’s ticket sales were more than double theirs. Baek Jin-cheol sighed in frustration. A loss was certain at this point. All that was left was to cut their losses.
“All that money I handed out to reporters was supposed to pay off, damn it!”
He slammed his fist on the desk, making his employees jumpy and nervous.
“How many tickets has ‘Night’ sold?”
“It’s passed 100,000… faster than any film before.”
“Damn it! How’s that even possible? Why are people watching that trash? It’s violent! Gory! Terrible for mental health…”
“Don’t worry, sir. It’ll start slowing down. Our articles are finally making an impact.”
Baek Jin-cheol pulled out the newspapers, cigarette hanging from his lips, skimming the negative articles about Night. Then he checked those about A Country Girl Comes to the City!. The ones from paid-off reporters were all praise, but the rest either ignored it or gave lukewarm to negative reviews.
“Freaking parasites. If we don’t pay them, they won’t write anything.”
The consensus on A Country Girl Comes to the City! was that it was a “heartwarming comedy.” However, many questioned its plausibility, criticized the acting, and so on.
“As if these clueless hacks know how hard it is to make a movie. Where’s Kim Eun-ha?”
“She’s at home. Apparently on lockdown.”
“What? Why?”
“No clue. We just hear she won’t leave the house. She was silent at the press preview too.”
“I cured her so-called ‘artsy disease,’ and now she’s come down with… mutism? She’s got some nerve.”
“Yes, sir.”
He exhaled, frustrated. Then his eyes settled on an article that made him do a double-take.
“‘Night’ Director Gyeong Chan-hyeon Speaks Out? What’s this?”
“Uh… I’m not sure…”
“You worthless idiot. Didn’t I tell you to keep tabs on everything? Do you want to get fired? I’m not asking because I don’t know; I’m testing you!”
“I’ll check right now, sir! I’m so sorry!”
Bowing at a full 90 degrees, the staff member dashed out.
“Kim Eun-ha… what’s she think she’s doing? It’s her debut film. She should be promoting it like crazy, not cooping herself up at home… Wait, if she’s hiding at home…”
Baek Jin-cheol’s lips curled into a sly grin. He was already thinking about his final move.
If she won’t come out or face the media, that’ll make his last card even more effective. He can blame the director for the movie’s poor performance and claim that production costs skyrocketed because of her.
She wasn’t showing up on set, she was fussy, and that ruined the atmosphere on location. Spread that story around, and all the arrows aimed at The Film H will point at Kim Eun-ha instead.
“Hey! Call the reporters again. Let’s prep a story in advance!”
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