Rules of the Film Game
Suhyeon asked what the precautions were, and Park Sil-jang answered.
"Suhyeon, first off, let me tell you about the precautions related to the movie we're shooting this time. The final script for Moonlight Escort is already out, right?"
"Yes, that's right. I've memorized it from start to finish."
"I figured you would have. But scripts have a way of getting revised on set based on the situation at the time."
"I've heard about that."
"That's where you need to be careful."
"What exactly?"
"The director might pressure you to take off your clothes in a way that's not in the script. Your body's a hot topic these days, after all. He'll want to strip you down somehow to boost the film's box office."
Suhyeon gave a wry smile at Park Sil-jang's words.
"Hoo. I'm not exactly a beautiful actress..."
"It'd be easier to handle if you were. Think about it—if a director demands a male actor take off his shirt for the sake of the art on set, it's not something you can complain about publicly. Being a guy makes it hard to cry contract breach or harassment without backlash from the staff."
"So what should I do? Clutch my clothes and shout 'I refuse!'?"
"No need for that. We've already taken steps to prevent it."
A thought flashed through Suhyeon's mind at Park Sil-jang's words.
"Has BJ Chairwoman Jeong Mi-yeong already made arrangements?"
"...How did you know?"
"The old saying goes that those with power are the most ruthless, and those with assets protect them fiercely. From her perspective, she wants her final film to draw as much attention as possible, and she must have figured having me bare some skin in her movie would help."
"Haa. Watching you sometimes gives me chills. That kind of insight at your age... You're spot on. She warned the production company and investors already. No one in the industry dares ignore Chairwoman Jeong."
"In that case, why warn me at all?"
"I'm not worried about the production or investors—it's the director. Jang Jin-seok is a classic auteur."
"I know what that means."
"I've been studying film nonstop. In short, it's the belief that film is the director's art. Like how a novelist writes as they please, a director shoots as they envision. That's auteur theory, right?"
"Exactly the problem. Jang has a high chance of going overboard on set—stubbornly digging in his heels."
"What if that happens?"
"If the atmosphere makes it hard to refuse, don't force it and risk alienating the staff—just go along. But call me right away that day."
"Hm. So if I contact you, Chairwoman Jeong handles the fallout. Got it."
"Right. Anyway... Do you know the difference between the 'floor' and the 'game'?"
"I've been in this industry a few years. Music is the lowly 'floor,' film the lofty 'game,' right?"
"Do you know why?"
"What else? Money. The core of capitalism. The investment gap separates floor from game."
"Spot on. A singer flopping one track versus a studio bombing a film—the stakes are worlds apart. That's why agencies handle singers and actors differently. And the film game has unwritten rules the music floor doesn't. That's one reason I called you here today. I wanted to explain them personally. This stuff isn't in books, and no one tells you."
"Thank you for looking out for me. What are they?"
.....
"Hm. I'll keep everything you said in mind and act accordingly."
"Good. A smart kid like you will handle it fine. And... take this."
Park Sil-jang pulled an envelope from his pocket and handed it over.
"What's this?"
"Ten 50,000-won bills—500,000 won."
"Pocket money for me?"
"What? Suhyeon, have I lost my mind? Why would I give allowance to someone earning ten times my yearly salary? This is envelope money."
"Envelope money?"
"Yeah. You're doing the ground-breaking ceremony today. A top idol needs to give generously. Don't hold back just because you're supporting cast—be lavish. It'll make you look good to the staff."
"No way... Even envelope money requires reading the room?"
"Of course. Staff won't say it outright, but they compare who gave what among the leads behind the scenes. Give more than the lead as supporting, and you're arrogant for your station. Didn't I just explain? Music floor and film game are worlds apart."
"So if I give too much as supporting, won't that cause issues?"
"Who's the lead? Seong Kang-ho as warrior Kim Dong-su. You're close, right? No need to worry about him. He'll give more anyway—a 10-million-admission actor isn't short on cash. Don't sweat it... Judge situations as they come. I trust you'll handle it."
Suhyeon thanked Park Sil-jang, who gripped his hand and patted his shoulder encouragingly, then headed out.
Leaving Park Sil-jang's office, Suhyeon walked to the parking lot toward the van for the Yangsu-ri set.
He spotted Baek Seongcheol waiting and called out.
"Whoa, bro. The van's sparkling today."
"It's not for idols anymore—it's for a film actor. Gotta shine. Polished it early this morning."
"Bro, why the sudden formal talk...?"
"Park Sil-jang schooled me yesterday on rules for film actor managers. I'll stick to polite speech from now on."
"...Bro, I get it, but when it's just us, keep it casual like always. Otherwise, I'll suffocate."
"You think...?"
"Yeah!"
"Fine. But formal around others."
"If you must... Man, first day shooting and I'm already thrown off. Huge gap between idols and actors."
"Learned a ton too. Park Sil-jang says actors need more public face and pretense. Only the elite of elites get to do it, so maybe that's why. Leads who carry box office? Even more so. Minor supporting? Same as other celebs."
"Bro, I'm still supporting."
"Nonsense! You're already contracted as lead for a blockbuster. Everywhere you go, you're lead-level treatment."
Suhyeon sighed, eyeing his excited manager glaring with wide eyes.
"Hoo. Fine."
The manager beamed like nothing happened and opened the door himself.
"Come on, hop in, lead actor."
Suhyeon grinned back.
"Sure."
In the car to Yangsu-ri, Suhyeon spoke to his manager.
"Today made me see why celebs kill for film roles."
"Treatment's on another level. How many in Korea can you count as film leads? Not low-budget indies—the theater blockbusters. Same faces for decades. That's how rare it is to rise. Hence the prestige."
"And the revenue expectations dwarf other celebs. The Admiral raked in 130 billion won, director Kim Han-min pocketed over 12 billion. Imagine idols grinding tracks and gigs for that... Ugh."
"You'll nail it. I believe you'll be Korea's top film lead, no matter what."
"Thanks for the faith... Yeah, I want it too. Go big or go home... Seongcheol bro!"
"Yeah?"
"Let's go all the way together."
"Yeah. To the end. I'll hustle."
"Good."
"And... Suhyeon."
"Yeah, bro."
"Films mean lots of outdoor shoots. This van'll be your green room the whole time. Tell me anything you need—I'll stock it. Got the company card. Stay inside unless urgent; rest up. I'll handle production coordination and standby calls."
"...Looks like Park Sil-jang drilled you good."
"Tell me about it. Thought my head would explode. So much to memorize... Oh, right—one more. On days needing styling, it'll be Actor Team 1, not Singer Team 1. But production's covering coords for now anyway."
Suhyeon spoke softly to his stiff, tense manager gripping the wheel.
"Bro, don't stress too hard. First time for both of us in films—if you tense up, we'll crash. Newbies mess up cluelessly."
"Got it. Hoo."
"Relax. Relax."
"Yeah..."
They arrived at Yangsu-ri set 30 minutes early. The manager said,
"Suhyeon, stay in the car. I'll tell production you're here and fetch you when it's time."
"Got it, bro. I'll review the script."
As the manager dashed off, Suhyeon grabbed the script and muttered,
"Bro's got military discipline now. Park Sil-jang must've whipped him hard. Hoo. Guess I gotta step up too."
Deep into the script, the door opened.
"Suhyeon, gathering in 10. You're the youngest actor—better head out earlyish..."
"Yeah, probably."
Suhyeon stepped out, looked up at the sky. Yangsu-ri's cloudless blue filled his view.
Autumn skies are so clear and high—perfect.
The manager strode ahead briskly; Suhyeon followed with determined steps, steeling himself.
My film career starts now. Let's do this!