Chapter 205 : This Man Really Caused a Stir
Chapter 205: This Man Really Caused a Stir
Not every movie could make it into theaters.
Box office potential.
Expected audience numbers.
Marketing efficiency...
In the end, everything was decided by numbers.
There was only one truth in this industry.
A movie that sold well was a good movie.
Movie theaters weren't fortune tellers.
But avoiding losses was surprisingly simple.
Just don't screen movies that looked unlikely to draw audiences.
For that reason...
“I'm going crazy.”
Hanppeum Entertainment's CEO, Han Daewoong, the distributor of <Footprints That Became a Star>, felt like his head was about to split open.
“Who would've thought this movie would turn out like this?”
Unable to take his eyes off the monitor, Han Daewoong muttered to himself.
The conference room was filled with strange tension.
One wrong word from anyone here could easily make them the next target.
Everyone stared at the edge of the table, thinking roughly the same thing.
This movie's going to succeed.
'...I want to watch it again.'
'Should I bring my mom to see it?'
'This isn't something you throw onto OTT.
The cinematography is too beautiful.'
'The music is incredible.'
Only Han Daewoong continued muttering absentmindedly.
“Oh Seungju...
This man really caused a stir.”
Expectations?
Of course there hadn't been any.
The moment he'd heard it was another Oh Seungju film, he'd assumed it'd be the usual thing again.
Even so, he'd accepted the contract out of loyalty.
To be honest, when he'd heard a major investor had appeared, he'd thought someone had managed to hook a gullible fool.
Blind money occasionally drifted into this industry.
When he'd first read the screenplay, it was merely decent.
After reading the script, he'd thought,
'Maybe...?'
When he heard the OST, he'd thought,
'Could it be...?'
And after watching the final cut...
“How did they produce this kind of quality with a movie that's practically silent?
How is this even possible?
Haa...”
He'd nearly fainted.
The music and visuals fit together perfectly.
Even the scenery captured on screen was extraordinary.
This wasn't an ordinary movie.
It was gentle.
Warm.
And far more profound than expected.
Most importantly...
“It has sincerity.”
One staff member quietly spoke.
At those words, everyone slowly nodded.
Han Daewoong grabbed his head.
“...Hey.
We signed the contract to send this to OTT, right?”
“Yes.
Webflix.
The conditions weren't bad either.”
“I think we might've really screwed ourselves.”
This had become a genuine problem.
He hadn't spent all these years in the film industry for nothing.
He had enough experience to recognize quality.
The problem was that he'd trusted that experience too much and jumped to conclusions.
He sat back down and took a deep breath.
The employee sitting across from him offered some consolation.
“Don't worry too much.
Anyone who read the script probably reacted the same way.
The moment they heard it was practically a silent film, it'd already be rejected...”
That wasn't comforting at all.
To make matters worse, the employee beside him pushed up his glasses with one finger and corrected him.
“It only feels like a silent film.
It isn't literally one.
After all, they do call the dogs by their names.”
“Isn't that basically the same thing?”
“It's completely different.”
“Then you should've said so earlier.”
...And this was what they were doing.
Regretting it now accomplished nothing.
Only four days remained before the meeting.
They had to come up with a solution before then.
After quietly thinking for a while, Han Daewoong suddenly stood.
“Team Leader Lee.”
“Yes.”
“Can we secure theater distribution?”
Who wouldn't want to?
The team leader's expression said exactly that.
Of course, he couldn't actually say it aloud.
Smacking his lips once, he calmly stated the facts.
“We can't secure theater distribution.
There are competing releases, and the timing is far too tight.
Realistically, getting prime screening slots is impossible.”
“Haa.
What kind of disaster is this...”
Movies like this occasionally appeared.
Miraculous films that shattered everyone's expectations and turned the entire market upside down.
<Footprints That Became a Star> was exactly that kind of movie.
And such a movie had been sitting right in his hands.
The problem was...
“...Our bowl was simply too small.”
They'd failed to recognize a brilliant gemstone.
They simply weren't a vessel capable of holding this movie.
Han Daewoong laughed bitterly.
Someone quietly voiced their regret.
“What a shame.
If we'd gotten this into theaters, we would've become a huge success too.”
“Sss.
Will you be quiet?
Do you think I don't already know that...?
Forget it.”
Those words barely registered.
The theater lineup had already been finalized.
They lacked both the courage and the financial firepower to force their way in.
But one thing was absolutely certain.
It was far too wasteful to release this movie only through OTT.
One line of sincerity continued to weigh heavily on his heart.
The meeting ended without reaching any real conclusion.
“Sigh.
Maybe it's finally time for me to leave this business.”
Han Daewoong stared blankly at the monitor after the screen had gone dark.
How long had he sat there?
Looking at his own reflection in the black screen, he slowly turned his head.
His face was filled with regret.
“...It's a good movie.
A genuinely good movie.
It's been a long time since I've seen one.”
Every scene remained vivid in his mind.
The music slowly carried the emotions forward.
A movie that made audiences cry without a single line of dialogue.
That director, Oh Seungju—
The man who used to awkwardly sprinkle in trendy elements just so he could make whatever he personally wanted—
He'd never imagined he'd create something like this.
“And the OST...”
This movie was all about the music.
Sometimes it conveyed emotion before the actors even did.
Other times, a single melody created silence that completely cut the world away.
Not pleasant music.
Memorable music.
Even now, Han Daewoong could still hear the cheerful piano melody echoing in his ears.
But what was the point?
All he could do was sit alone in the dark office, drowning in self-mockery.
“I guess I've lost my instincts.”
Han Daewoong opened a drawer.
Business cards and hastily scribbled contact information lay scattered inside.
“No point being greedy.”
He picked up his phone.
He rubbed his warmed cheek with his palm.
Then he looked once more at the dark monitor.
The version of himself who used to dream about how to bring great movies into the world had long since disappeared.
Only a greedy CEO remained...
One who constantly calculated numbers.
There'd been a time when he'd fought fiercely whenever distribution became blocked.
He'd argued.
He'd fought.
He'd even grabbed distributors by the collar.
...He couldn't pull off something that extreme anymore.
“Hello?
CEO Kim Minsoo?
This is Han Daewoong from Hanppeum Entertainment.”
But for the sake of a truly good movie...
He was willing to cast aside his pride.
I watched the final cut together with CEO Kim Minsoo.
It was one of the privileges of having the investor be someone close to me.
Seeing the movie before the world did.
It was surprisingly thrilling.
Almost as though we'd become members of a secret society,
we first listened to several warnings—
Absolutely no spoilers.
Only after that did we watch the final version together.
When the movie ended,
the very first words out of my mouth were—
“...Is this really okay?”
The reason was simple.
That guy kept appearing over and over just when I'd almost forgotten about him.
“I'm on screen way more often than I expected.”
“Didn't you agree to it?
Your face isn't shown that clearly.”
“...It feels like I'm ruining a good movie.”
For the record...
That guy was me.
“What?
Should I ask for more appearance fees?
Though one million won was already pretty generous.”
“No, that's not it.”
Where should I even begin?
First of all,
I wasn't playing any important role.
I didn't even have a close-up.
I was merely an extra.
Someone who wasn't even in the script.
Basically background decoration.
Yet...
I appeared far too often.
“I can't watch myself.
Honestly, I closed my eyes every time I came on screen.”
“You barely appeared.”
“Is this just because people always notice themselves more?
It feels like I'm the only thing being zoomed in.”
“Some people are just like that.”
“Huh?”
Kim Minsoo folded his arms and looked me up and down with an expression that practically said,
'You're hopeless.'
“People who naturally stand out, even when they're doing nothing.”
...Ever since investing in this movie, he seemed to have become even cheesier.
“Me?”
“Yeah.
Because...”
Listening to his explanation,
I had to admit he wasn't exactly wrong.
The experience of standing on stage.
That wasn't something to underestimate.
Instinctively,
I knew how to attract attention in loud, crowded places.
...Well, apparently that was the explanation.
“But don't worry.
It suits you well.
How do dogs end up liking you so much?”
Actually,
it wasn't that the dogs liked me.
I liked them.
When else would I ever get to roll around on a grassy field with so many well-trained dogs?
Ah...
I could still remember it.
That comforting smell.
Their panting breaths.
“They're just...
Cute, aren't they?
I think they followed me because I adored them.”
“Well, I suppose that's a blessing too.
Anyway.
It's not like you had a major role.
So don't worry.”
“You're right, aren't you?”
As we chatted casually,
Kim Minsoo lightly tapped the cup of water on the table.
His lips kept twitching for some reason,
but I chose to ignore it.
The movie had turned out well.
Of course he'd be in a good mood.
After all,
he was the investor.
“The distributor should be contacting us soon.”
“The distributor?”
“Yeah.
Just because a movie gets finished doesn't mean it automatically gets into theaters.”
“Oh?”
I'd learned something new again.
Not just anyone could get into theaters like KW Cinema or TGV.
Even so,
we didn't need to worry.
Just as we were talking—
Knock. Knock.
Someone knocked.
Before CEO Kim Minsoo could even answer,
the door swung open.
It was Director Yoon Seonghan.
Lately he'd been so busy with the hotel project that I hadn't seen him at all.
Happy to see him, I immediately stood up.
“Hyung!”
'Huh?'
But...
Why did he look so gloomy?
Like someone burdened by serious troubles.
It looked as though he had something important to discuss.
So I stood up.
People always said this was when you should excuse yourself.
I bowed politely and started toward the door.
Then Seonghan Hyung looked at me.
“Taeyoon, you don't need to leave.
You're involved too.”
So Seonghan Hyung could be this serious too.
“This is driving me crazy.”
“What happened?
Sit down first.”
“<Footprints That Became a Star>.
Webflix says the contract's already finalized.
They've already received the paperwork, and they're about to schedule the release.”
Thunk.
At that very moment,
Kim Minsoo quietly set down the cup in his hand.
“...OTT?”
“They're saying that's probably the best option for now.
The distributor's...
Sigh.”
“Who says so?”
This was bad.
Whenever Kim Minsoo started using formal speech with someone much younger or very close to him,
it meant he was furious.
Ah...
I should've just left earlier.
I quietly listened as the two of them talked.
“Are you certain?
The distributor said that?”
“...Yes.”
Kim Minsoo's eyes completely changed.
“Who authorized that?”
“They said it was an internal decision...”
“Hah!”
He abruptly stood and roughly loosened his tie.
“What about Director Oh Seungju?”
“They said they'd look into it and call us back.
CEO, please calm down first—”
“The distributor made such an important decision without even discussing it with the investor?
Interesting.”
Heavy silence settled over the room.
Bzzz—
As though someone had flipped a switch,
Kim Minsoo's phone vibrated.
“What timing.”
Smiling bitterly,
he picked up the phone.
Something serious was definitely about to happen.
While Seonghan Hyung and I exchanged uneasy glances—
“Yes.
Hello.”
Answering the call in a frightening voice completely unlike his usual one,
Kim Minsoo walked out.
Seonghan Hyung awkwardly smiled at me.
“You've been doing well, Taeyoon?
I still need to watch the movie...
Though I already heard the songs.
They turned out fantastic.”
“You've been doing well too, right, Hyung?
Up until just now, I was doing great...
But now...
I'm not so sure.”
“You brat.”
Patting my back several times, Seonghan Hyung reassured me.
“Don't worry.
If it's that man...
He'll solve it somehow.”
Solve it.
For some reason,
that word felt strangely unsettling today.
That afternoon.
Facing Kim Minsoo,
Han Daewoong swallowed hard.
When they'd first met,
Kim Minsoo had been exactly as rumored.
Warm-hearted.
Easygoing.
A man who laughed freely.
Someone who seemed like he'd agree to anything if you persuaded him gently.
But today...
He was completely different.
'...Can someone really change this much?'
Those steady eyes.
Calm...
Yet unmistakably those of a cold, calculating businessman.
The moment he sat down,
Kim Minsoo asked,
“So you're sending it to OTT?
Why?”
“It was an internal decision.
Based on the director's previous works, the box office outlook seemed uncertain.
The film is also extremely quiet, and the OTT offer was favorable.
And...”
Before Han Daewoong could even finish speaking,
Kim Minsoo coldly interrupted him.
“That was your decision, wasn't it, CEO?”
“...Pardon?”
His voice remained gentle.
But perfectly clear.
“You remember <Replay of That Summer>, don't you?
You released it right after the Lunar New Year holiday.
That wasn't exactly the ideal timing for such a sentimental movie.
The film itself was excellent.”
Han Daewoong's eyes trembled slightly.
“And <Little Miracle>?
It was a mystery thriller, yet the early marketing was far too subdued.
It also overlapped with competing releases.
That was unfortunate.”
Kim Minsoo's analysis continued for quite some time.
At this point,
it was obvious that investing in the film industry hadn't been some random impulse.
There was no room to argue.
“The movies themselves were all good.
You always said the timing was unfortunate.
But if you hear the same thing three times...
Isn't that less of a director problem and more of a distribution problem?”
It felt as though a blade had been driven straight between Han Daewoong's eyes.
He couldn't think clearly.
“CEO Han Daewoong of Hanppeum Entertainment.”
At the sound of his name,
Han Daewoong looked up.
“Yes.
Please go ahead.”
“So...
What should we do?
Because I absolutely intend to get this movie into theaters.”
There was no room to interrupt.
No room to negotiate.
“This is an important film to me.
If the plan had always been to lazily toss it onto OTT, why would we have worked so hard creating the OST and running around everywhere?”
His tone remained calm.
Yet somehow...
Cold enough to sound like a threat.
'Ugh...
I haven't even gotten to say what I originally came here to say!'
From the very beginning...
Han Daewoong had intended to ask for help.
He wanted to admit that his own poor judgment had nearly sent a great movie straight to OTT,
and ask whether Kim Minsoo could help find another distributor willing to handle a theatrical release together.
But...
Faced with those icy eyes burning with anger,
he couldn't bring himself to speak.
Just as he continued hesitating—
“If distribution is difficult on your side,
then we'll simply find another way.”
Han Daewoong blinked.
“That other way would be...?”
“Let's do it together.”
Together?
For a moment,
Han Daewoong was speechless.
Throughout all the years he'd run his company,
he'd always been alone.
Responsibility had always rested solely on his shoulders.
Yet this was the first time someone had extended a hand like this.
“Then...”
“May I propose a co-distribution agreement?
Hanppeum Entertainment can handle online distribution,
while we'll take care of everything offline.”
“KIM Entertainment distributes movies too?”
At that question,
Kim Minsoo answered as though he'd been waiting for it.
“Oh.
Did I forget to mention it?
We have KW ENT.”
“...Excuse me?”
Han Daewoong genuinely questioned his own hearing.
KW ENT...
That was the major distribution company under the KW Group.
They were willing to distribute it?
...Did I really hear that correctly?