The program that agreed to interview me about the negative press was a weekly TV show that covered entertainment news.
It was my first time at a broadcasting station, and I’d expected to feel out of place, but seeing the PDs rushing around, the cast and crew hurrying to and fro, it actually reminded me of a film set.
“Think you can handle this? You were shaking in front of the crowd at the preview,” Jun-seong teased.
“That was different—it was in front of a live audience. This is just a camera, and hardly anyone’s around. Also, when was I shaking?”
“Until Jeong-woo stepped in to speak, you looked like a man on death row. At least you brought some herbal pills this time.”
Sure, I had been nervous back then…
“I’ll be fine. Now shut up.”
“Alright, got it. Do your best. I’ll watch from the sidelines. Maybe break down crying for the cameras.”
“I’m not gonna cry.”
“You should cry when you need to, not when you’re eating your meals.”
“Tsk.”
Snickering at my response, Jun-seong watched me take several deep breaths to calm myself. A moment later, someone who looked like an assistant director came looking for me.
“Director Gyeong Chan-hyeon! We’ll be ready for you soon!”
“Yes! N-nehe—gah, ack.”
Their sudden call made me choke on my own saliva.
Rolling his eyes, Jun-seong patted me on the back.
“You moron. Make sure to put on a good show. Jeez.”
“Alright, I’m off.”
“Go kill it.”
The atmosphere on set was surprisingly friendly.
The MC, who was also an actor, joked that he’d love to appear in my next project. The reporters told me how much they enjoyed the movie.
“We’ll be starting shortly. Once the video ends, the AD will cue you,” someone explained.
“Sure.”
“No need to be too tense. You’re here to talk about those negative articles, so just keep it clear and concise.”
The reporter seated next to me kept giving me pointers, probably noticing how anxious I was.
“Ten seconds!”
At the AD’s shout, everyone straightened up.
“Five seconds!”
“Good luck, Director,” whispered the reporter.
“And… cue!”
The camera light switched on, and the MCs wore bright smiles as they began:
“As we announced, today we have a special guest—everyone’s talking about this person these days. It’s Director Gyeong Chan-hyeon of the film Night (밤)!”
“Yes, he’s here to talk about the recent flood of negative press surrounding his movie.”
“For reasons unknown, there’s been quite a lot of hostile coverage, right?”
“It’s unusual to see a director address those kinds of articles so openly.”
The AD signaled me, and the camera in front of me lit up.
“And right here, we have Director Gyeong Chan-hyeon himself. Hello!”
“Hello.”
My mouth was so dry. I pinched my thigh to focus. One slip of the tongue here could backfire badly. I had to be careful.
“So, the criticism of Night seems to be growing lately. What are your thoughts?”
Taking a breath, I answered:
“I’m not sure what the reporters behind these malicious articles are aiming for, but I do hope people understand one thing.”
Though I’d prepared a response, a better idea struck me at that moment:
If I could frame attacks on the movie as attacks on culture itself…
“Please stop attacking our culture. In the end, your articles will only serve to kill it. If it were just me suffering, that might be one thing, but when future films also come under fire, we risk losing our cinematic diversity.”
My unexpected answer left the MCs momentarily flustered, each glancing at the other. But I kept going—this was too important not to say.
“Journalists who destroy cinematic diversity are enemies of culture. Is the real issue truly about violence? Are the reporters who write these stories about teens adopting violent tendencies really doing it out of a sense of justice?”
“I see… right,” the MC managed.
Behind the camera, I noticed Jun-seong giving me a thumbs-up. The PD seemed a bit caught off guard by my deviation from the script, but maybe because the show’s ratings were climbing, he gestured for the MCs to keep going.
“So you’re suggesting there might be some other motive for these negative articles?”
“I can’t say exactly what that motive is, but I’m sure there’s more to it. And whatever it is, it’s harming our culture. Their pens turn these rumors into ‘truth.’”
“Ah… I see.”
“I believe that Korean cinema won’t be overshadowed by foreign films for much longer. We’re almost at that point. But what’s delaying that future? These malicious, agenda-driven articles.”
I continued talking, and once the time was up, the interview wrapped. As soon as I stepped off set, Jun-seong applauded.
“That was like something out of Lincoln’s playbook—what a speech!”
“You think it went okay?”
“Better than okay. The PD was going wild because the ratings kept climbing.”
“Phew…”
“But seriously, that whole cultural angle, the moral high ground—it was brilliant. Anyone who doesn’t know better would think you’re some freedom fighter. The veins in your eyes were literally popping with righteous fury! Awesome.”
“I’m exhausted. Let’s go home. I need to rest—I’m wiped out.”
Feeling like a rag doll, I trudged alongside Jun-seong toward the bus stop.
“The bus? Dude, not today. I’ll pay for a taxi.”
“You, paying? The stingiest guy I know?”
“You might be the first and last person on Earth to call the KMD chairman’s son ‘stingy.’”
“Oh, resorting to flaunting your connections now?”
“Hey, Chan-hyeon.”
“What?”
“Shut up.”
With that final retort, he ushered me into the taxi. It’d been a while since I’d ridden in one, and the seat felt surprisingly comforting. I drifted off almost immediately.
The next day, the newspapers were plastered with my name.
Mom and Dad flipped through them at the breakfast table, marveling that their son’s name was featured so prominently.
“Wow, Chan-hyeon’s a star now. Who would’ve guessed?”
“He sure spoke well. Wonder whose son he is.”
As they ate, my parents happily discussed the articles about me, and Jun-seong chimed in too.
“Sir, Ma’am, this film could really reach 2.5 million viewers. Isn’t Night drawing lines outside your theater too?”
“These days, Night is pulling in most of our cinema’s sales,” Dad confirmed with a proud nod in my direction.
Mom smacked me lightly on the shoulder as she beamed.
“See? He’s my son after all. Takes after me, obviously.”
“No, he takes after me. Look how much he loves movies!”
“Please, you’re not the brains in this family. You gotta be smart to succeed in film—like me.”
“Oh, is that right? Chan-hyeon, who do you think you take after?”
It wasn’t exactly “Who do you like better, Mom or Dad?” but it was still tricky. For household peace:
“My left brain’s from Dad, and my right brain’s from Mom.”
At that, Jun-seong, who was eating, laughed so hard he sprayed rice everywhere.
“Pwahaha!”
“Gross…”
“Sorry, sorry, I’ll clean it up.”
After finishing breakfast, we headed back to my room.
“Hey, did you know you have a fan café now?”
“Huh?”
I quickly searched my name on the internet and found a fan club dedicated to me.
“‘Loving the Great Director Gyeong Chan-hyeon: Gyeong-sa-mo’? Wow, people still use phrases like that?”
“What are you talking about? It’s a current trend.”
I hesitated, then covered it up with a laugh. “Yeah, right… must’ve become a trend starting yesterday, right?”
“What on earth are you babbling about? Let me see.”
Ignoring my rambling, Jun-seong clicked to register me as a member of my own fan club.
“Now we can snoop around in here. There are already 2,000 members? Not bad. If each of them sees the movie five times, that’s 10,000 tickets.”
“That’s not how it works…”
The forums already had several posts:
[Made this café right after I saw last night’s interview. Gyeong Chan-hyeon, guardian of Korea’s culture!]
[Joined after watching the interview!]
[Stories from Director Gyeong’s college days—behind the scenes on his graduation film!]
“Uh, wow…”
The sudden attention was a bit overwhelming. I never imagined that just one interview would lead to a fan café.
“Wait, the café owner’s ID is ‘Good star’? That’s yours, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, that’s me. I made it.”
“You maniac.”
“It’s all for hitting 2.5 million! And don’t forget, you used me too.”
“Yeah, that’s true…”
“So let’s drop it, okay? Speaking of which, cinematographer Park Jin-soo is still edgy around me because of that.”
Meanwhile, at The Film H, President Baek Jin-cheol skimmed the newspapers in his office.
Every headline seemed designed to enrage him:
[After the Interview, “Night” Ticket Sales Soar! Audiences Show Support for Director Gyeong Chan-hyeon]
[Director Gyeong Chan-hyeon’s Fan Club Surpasses Tens of Thousands in a Flash…]
[“Night” Poised to Hit 1 Million Admissions in Record Time…]
The articles were heaping praise on Night, and Baek Jin-cheol clutched his head in disbelief. That a rookie director might become the first in Korean history to achieve such numbers was incomprehensible to him.
Worse yet, Seong-hyeon Productions had its own media tactics going, prompting another batch of articles that made Baek’s eyes nearly pop out:
[Is There Collusion Between The Film H and Reporters? Shining a Light on Director Gyeong Chan-hyeon’s Interview!]
[Malicious Articles Killing Culture—How Is The Film H Involved?]
“Damn it! That Gyeong Chan-hyeon—he’s a cunning little fox…”
Crash!
He hurled the newspapers off his desk, then slammed his fist against a bookcase.
“He says he’s not sure about their motives in his interview, then spreads these stories around behind the scenes?”
Bang! Bang!
Still furious, he pounded on the desk. His employees stood by silently, afraid to speak.
“What are you all doing? Why am I the only one who’s working? Are your brains broken, you worthless animals?”
“S-sorry…”
“It’s my own stupid fault for paying you lot. Ugh…”
Sighing, he lit another cigarette.
—Beep-beep, beep-beep.
In the tense silence of the office, the phone rang louder than usual. One of the staff grabbed it immediately.
“The Film H. How may I help you?”
After a brief exchange, he looked over at Baek Jin-cheol.
“Sir, he wants to talk to you.”
“Who is it?”
“It’s Reporter Park Jae-jun from Myeong-seong Daily.”
“…Alright, put him through.”
Crushing the cigarette in the ashtray, Baek picked up.
“Oh, hey there, buddy! How’ve you been?”
—Buddy, my ass! You bastard!
“What’d you just call me?”
—You said it was some newbie production company, that we could just crush them. So what the hell is with this interview? Who is that guy?
“You remember all that booze I paid for at the room salons? Don’t talk to me like that.”
—What?
“Maybe I’ll drag you down with me. My life’s been in the gutter anyway, but you?”
Baek felt cornered, but he had to bluff his way out. It was the only way to survive.
“I’ve got plenty I could reveal—more than enough to force certain people to leave the country.”
—Then give me those names. Stop bluffing. We can bury this if we have something solid to use.
“Not yet. Let’s use a different card first.”
—A different card?
“We have a rookie director at our company. I’ll shift the blame onto that idiot.”
—Who is it?
“Kim Eun-ha.”
—Who cares about some no-name rookie? Nobody’s gonna pay attention to that.
“She was a classmate of that fox Gyeong Chan-hyeon. Young man, young woman—makes you think, doesn’t it?”
—If you go after Gyeong Chan-hyeon now, though…
“Gotta knock him down before he climbs any higher. Besides, I’ll keep Kim Eun-ha on a tight leash. Now do me a favor—run a good piece on this.”
—Fine.
Click.
“Hah…”
The office TV was still reporting on Night.
“Damn it! Who left that on? Turn it off! You think I want to watch that crap?”
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