After the monsoon ended, we wrapped up the remaining footage over a few weeks of shooting.
Because most of the crucial scenes were indoor shoots we had already finished in advance, the rest could be handled easily.
Since the Song Seong‑woo incident, the mood on set had become even smoother.
The last lingering problem, Lee Dae‑hoon, was completely cowed by Park Jun‑sik after that affair.
Recalling the events of the past few weeks, I lay on my bed and stared up at the ceiling.
“Save the film industry…”
That was what the god of cinema had said.
Can I really revive the film scene like this?
From the start, the idea of me alone saving the entire industry makes no sense.
Korea’s cinematic renaissance happened only because heavyweight directors like Kim Ji‑woon, Bong Joon‑ho, Park Chan‑wook, and Ryu Seung‑wan just happened to be born in the same era……
Knock knock—
“Chan-hyeon, come eat.”
“Okay!”
I decided to empty my mind and focus only on the new film. Editing was still left, and there was more than enough to do.
As I sat at the table eating, Mom asked me,
“Going out again today?”
“Yes. I have to get back to editing.”
“Sang‑hyeon’s discharge is today, so he’s coming home. Won’t you at least see his face?”
“I’ll see plenty of him at home anyway. I’ve got a wrap‑party tonight…….”
Mom smacked my back while I was eating.
Smack!
“Take good care of your brother. He’s the only one you’ve got, you rascal.”
“He’ll be fine on his own. He’s smart.”
“And who was it bad‑mouthing his brother back then?”
“That was years ago…”
Before the regression, I hadn’t gotten along with my brother; we fought so much that it really wore on our parents.
Even with the big age gap, he was always jumping at me……
Not that I was completely blameless, either.
When I was on leave and felt the distance between us, my heart hadn’t felt great.
“Do you know how hard it was on Mom back then? Two grown men acting like brats!”
“Sorry…”
As I lowered my head, Mom’s nagging faded and the TV sound slipped in.
[Next, news of a sexual scandal in the theater world.]
“Wait… Dad! Could you turn it up?”
“Watch it after you eat.”
“Just this story!”
Grumbling at my request, Dad turned up the volume, and pleasant news reached my ears.
[The case sparked by Song Seong‑woo’s digital camera, sent under an anonymous name, continues to make headlines. The prosecution has now detained and indicted Mr. Song Seong‑woo.]
Mom sighed as she heard it and said,
“Good grief, the world’s going bad. Aren’t you making movies with people like him, too?”
“I’m good at reading people. That won’t happen.”
“Mom had your fortune read and they said be careful next year, hmm?”
“Spend that fortune‑telling money on something tasty instead.”
Smack—
“Ow! Geez… Mom, they say you shouldn’t hit even a dog while it’s eating.”
“I’m hitting you because you’re my son, you rascal. Listen! Be careful! Don’t get tangled up with people like that!”
“Understood!”
I almost said I was the one who found the digital‑camera evidence. I’m no Batman—what would be the point?
The news lifted my mood for a moment, but it soon turned unpleasant.
This time it was easy because no one powerful was protecting him…
If the culprits had held any position, it wouldn’t have ended so neatly.
If a major agency had been involved…
Just thinking about it was horrifying.
Let’s just finish the movie well and not get mixed up in weird places.
After some more editing with the team, we headed to the wrap‑party venue.
Naturally, the wrap‑party was at a beef restaurant.
Jun‑seong had whined about the cost, but insisted since it was “our people.”
Plenty of crew had brought their families.
Just seeing Park Jun‑sik’s family chatting happily—the same family I’d seen at the audition—made me smile.
“Hey, do you want to get married? Your eyes are dripping honey.”
Jun‑seong, sitting beside me, asked.
“I’m married to film.”
“Psycho. At least saying you married your country like Elizabeth sounds cool—married to film?”
“What about you?”
“I dunno. No time.”
The moment the beef in front of him was cooked, Jun‑seong grabbed it, dipped it deep in salt sauce, and popped it into his mouth.
“Ahh… that’s the stuff.”
“Don’t change the subject. People got married and had kids even during wars—no time, my foot.”
“Why are you sounding like my mom?”
“I’m saying stop making excuses.”
At my words, Jun‑seong grew even more dramatic, picking up meat.
“Mmm! Yeah, beef is the king of meat.”
“Stuff yourself.”
He snickered, then looked at Lee Dae‑hoon, who was noisily chattering behind us.
“Lee Dae‑hun. Are you using him next project? Heard rumors.”
“Would I use a pal of Song Seong‑woo’s? Birds of a feather.”
“Right? I was worried for nothing.”
While grilling and eating, we chatted until someone took the seat next to us: cinematographer Jin‑soo.
“Wow, hyung, your beard gets fuller every time I see you.”
At Jun‑seong’s joke, Jin‑soo laughed and poked his side.
“Right? Looks good, huh?”
His playful moves on that big frame made him seem like a giant bear acting cute.
“Ack! Don’t poke me. With your size that’s attempted murder.”
“It’s affection, punk.”
“Save it for your daughter.”
“She won’t play with me lately, the brat.”
Their banter made me grin.
“Chan-hyeon, how’s the edit going?”
“Pretty well. Thanks to how well you shot it, hyung.”
“Yeah, right—like you didn’t do all the work.”
Pouring soju into the cup he’d brought, Jin‑su glanced at Jun‑sik’s family and said to us,
“My eye for movies isn’t that great, but… this film feels good too. Especially Jun‑sik over there—his acting’s amazing. Kid’s the real deal. He looks like an ordinary dad eating with his family, yet once he acts, how does he turn into something else…?”
“It’s what’s hidden inside the ordinary.”
“And you’re the one who spotted that. You ought to start a talent agency someday. You’re probably the only person in this country who saw that in an unknown actor like him.”
At Jin‑soo’s words, Jun‑seong’s eyes went wide.
“You think so too, hyung? Same here. Jun‑sik’s got no agency, no manager—drives himself. With that acting he could handle dramas or whatever.”
“Yeah. Talk to him later. I’ve had a few drinks with him, and Chan-hyeon, I think he’s got something beyond just trust in you. He spent the whole evening praising you.”
Like Jin‑soo said, starting an agency might be a decent idea.
The big companies that’ll appear later run their content business as a whole.
Distributor, talent agency, production company—running all that would need people, but it’d rake in money……
“Should we really try our hand at an agency?”
Draining his glass in one go, Jun‑seong said,
“Let’s hog everything ourselves.”
“Dangerous words—you’re talking monopoly?”
“Hey now, don’t degrade my noble intent to contribute to our national cultural network with such impure language.”
“Cultural network, my foot. Someone might think we’re serving the country.”
“Of course we are. We’ll spread Korea far and wide.”
“Korea?”
Jin‑soo, beside us, tilted his head.
“Of course, hyung. Soft power! What did Kim Gu say? The one thing I desperately desire is the power of great culture!”
“That slick tongue of yours… using Kim Gu just for money?”
Jun‑seong flashed a bright smile at my words.
“Could you tell?”
“Very obvious.”
“Money’s the main, sure… but as a sub‑plot, how great would it be to promote the Republic of Korea, huh?”
“Good grief……”
He wasn’t totally wrong.
Given time, Psy and BTS would rise and our culture would gain some recognition, but for now it’s barely acknowledged.
Even the directors who once won at overseas festivals have vanished.
“Look at the Japanese! Dragon Ball, Pokémon, sushi, ninja, samurai. Because of that, when people see East Asians they think Japanese. They might not even know Korea exists.”
Standing up, Jun‑seong declared,
“But! Let’s make it happen. A master director from a small country in the East—introduces Korea to the world! Of course, with the help of Lee Jun‑seong!”
His speech, wrapping greed for money in national prestige and suddenly casting me as a patriot, was too much, so I pretended not to hear and got up.
Jin‑soo’s eyes sparkled as he listened, and when Jun‑seong got excited, my seat was soon filled by someone else.
Wandering with my glass, I suddenly felt someone tug at me.
“Mister! Are you the one who picked my dad?”
It was Jun‑sik’s son.
Beside him, Jun‑sik looked slightly flustered, giving me an awkward smile.
“Sorry. Seo‑jin, the director is busy!”
“Oh, no! May I sit here for a moment? I lost my seat……”
Jun‑sik’s wife quickly spoke first.
“Yes! There’s a spot here! Please sit.”
“Thank you.”
“We should be thanking you far more.”
“No, I’m way more grateful. Ha‑ha, thanks to how well Jun‑sik acted, the shoot wrapped easily.”
The use of “hyung” for Jun‑sik warmed the atmosphere at once.
“Mister, but are you younger than my dad?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Then! Can’t you keep making movies with my dad?”
“Oh dear, he’s still too young to understand……”
Smiling brightly at Seo‑jin’s words, I answered,
“Your dad’ll get even busier after this movie. You might hardly see his face—better stock up now.”
“It’s way better than before! I only used to see him sleeping! Since filming started, he plays with me a lot!”
His innocent remark made me laugh.
“Your son already knows how to lobby. You’ve raised him well.”
My joke brought warm smiles to Jun‑sik and his wife.
“Ha‑ha, thank you.”
Seeing Park Jun‑sik’s family happy made a corner of my chest twinge.
They looked far younger and happier than they had on TV, stirring subtle feelings in me.
At first I’d only thought of exploiting Jun‑sik’s desperation, but the relationship we’d built during filming made their joy hit me.
“Once editing’s done, let’s work hard on prepping the press screening, hyung.”
“Yes!”
Jun‑sik answered loudly, and beside him Seo‑jin, looking puzzled, asked his dad,
“But Dad, why do you use honorifics to someone younger?”
“Yeah. Why would he do that? Trying to keep distance?”
“Mister might feel hurt!”
Seo‑jin puffed out his cheeks at Jun‑sik. Finding it cute, I poked them lightly.
“But why am I ‘mister’? I’m still young, you know? Call me hyung and I’ll give you pocket money. Try saying Chanhyeon‑hyung.”
I’m old enough to be called “mister” by this kid, but hearing a title I used to get in my previous life didn’t feel great.
Grinning, Seo‑jin clung to my arm and said,
“Chanhyeon‑hyung!”
At his charm, I glanced at Jun‑seong off in the distance delivering money talk like an epic saga, and fished out pocket money for Seo‑jin.
“Oh dear, don’t give him too much. He eats a lot these days!”
Laughing, I said to Jun‑sik’s wife,
“Hey, it’ll all turn into height later. It’s fine. Gotta eat plenty while growing. Buy something tasty.”
“See! Mom, I love this hyung!”
Seo‑jin raised his thumb and beamed at me.
A few weeks passed and we finished all the editing.
We had more staff than when we edited <Night>, and the work environment was much better, so many issues were easily resolved.
Film truly is the art of money.
In the movie world, money regularly makes the impossible possible.
Once we announced editing was done, Jun‑seong booked a screening, and things moved at lightning speed.
Before the press screening, Jun‑sik looked pretty nervous.
“Hyung, you okay?”
“Yeah… my stomach’s a bit queasy.”
He still didn’t seem used to informal speech.
“Don’t get too tense. Let’s just do what we prepared.”
“Right……”
With Jun‑sik’s awkward smile, we stepped up onto the dais.
T/N: I know a lot of names were mentioned, but let’s focus on Kim Gu. He was a prominent Korean independence activist and statesman. In his renowned essay “My Wish,” Kim Gu expressed his deep aspiration for Korea to become a nation distinguished not by military might or economic wealth, but by its rich and noble culture.
He stated, “The only thing that I desire in infinite quantity is the power of a noble culture. This is because the power of culture both makes us happy and gives happiness to others.”
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