PD and <em>Haegeuk</em> (2)
“I want to make sure names like Prince Suyang, King Sejo, King Danjong, and King Munjo never appear even once in the drama.”
This was the first point Kim Sang-hee emphasized in the impromptu production meeting that followed right after the three-way meeting.
Jang Seung-won, who had already read the script, nodded.
“That makes sense. In the script, they’re only referred to as ‘the prince,’ ‘the young king,’ ‘the prince’s older brother,’ things like that. Now that I think about it, words like Suyang, Sejo, or Danjong don’t appear at all.”
“It’s not a straight historical drama—it’s a drama borrowing a historical backdrop. That’s the concept I’m going for in the direction.”
“To avoid controversy, that’s the better approach. Just actively guiding viewers to think of the Gyeyu Coup is enough.”
“But I do want the costumes and props to be rigorously historically accurate to that era.”
“So, no mentioning names at all, but emphasizing to the audience that yes, it’s the era you’re thinking of?”
“Exactly.”
Jeong Seo-hoon asked, puzzled.
“Historical dramas are still dramas. Isn’t bending history for dramatic effect the norm?”
“There are plenty of nitpicky viewers who think historical dramas have to stick close to documentaries. It’s just to avoid the hassle.”
Jang Seung-won explained on Kim Sang-hee’s behalf.
“Truth be told, if you get technical, zombie historical dramas or zombie movies set in the Joseon era don’t hold up to historical scrutiny either. They’re just filling in fictional imagination on a historical backdrop.”
“Then couldn’t we just use the name Prince Suyang as is? Add a disclaimer that it’s a fictional creation unrelated to historical facts.”
“Seo-hoon seems pretty attached to keeping the name Prince Suyang, huh?”
“It feels like the character’s identity shifts when it’s not Suyang but some other title.”
“Don’t worry. It’s just called ‘the prince’—no other title replaces Suyang.”
The Prince Suyang that had sprouted instantly within Jeong Seo-hoon thirsted for more, but he calmly suppressed it.
“As long as we keep the dramatic devices and flow that immediately evoke the era, avoiding exact names will enrich the viewers’ imagination.”
With even Jang Seung-won backing Kim Sang-hee’s opinion, Jeong Seo-hoon decided to tie down his inner Prince Suyang tight.
“These days, there are more than a few professional complainers. It’s worse in the historical drama scene, so letting it slide like this might be easier. Leave it to the viewers’ imagination exactly which era it is—shift the responsibility.”
“See? The production team is this sly and underhanded. If you’re coming into this world, Seo-hoon, you’ll have to steel yourself for your actor’s purity to get tainted.”
“No, Seo-hoon should stick to acting. Letting that talent stray into other areas would be a sin against the future of Korean media.”
The three-way production meeting, heads together, was dragging on, but no one felt bored.
Jang Seung-won actively asked Jeong Seo-hoon for his opinions on various matters.
He even solicited casting suggestions for other roles.
It was an unfamiliar experience Jeong Seo-hoon had never encountered in Illegal or Su-jang-go.
When asked why, Jang Seung-won answered casually.
“You’re a special protagonist. Of course we actively reflect your opinions if you have them.”
“Is that standard?”
“Sometimes yes, sometimes no. Would they actively incorporate production input for a rom-com with young, fresh leads? They’d just check basic character analysis and call it a day.”
“This is PD Jang’s style anyway, and Seo-hoon is an irreplaceable lead. You’re not just another cast member.”
Kim Sang-hee added with a grin.
“Haegeuk wouldn’t exist without Seo-hoon. My rebel prince is a custom suit made for you alone.”
Jang Seung-won chimed in.
“So we have to actively reflect the main model’s opinion, or the runway won’t succeed, right?”
“Aigoo, PD Jang’s straightforwardness is so refreshing. Totally my type.”
“See? I’m better than Song Jeong-woo, right? Give me another shot next time, haha.”
“Might just do that. Our PD Song’s gotten too lax lately, like he’s got the fish on the hook.”
“So you picked me to give him a jolt, Writer?”
“That, and PD Song’s hopeless with historical dramas.”
Jeong Seo-hoon interjected.
“PD Song’s weak on historicals?”
“No idea, really. He’s never done one.”
Kim Sang-hee shrugged.
“But PD Jang has done major long-form orthodox historicals at KBC, plus two fusion historicals that suit young tastes.”
“When it comes to historicals, it’s KBC. Sure, cable and OTT are squeezing us with their trendy fusion stuff, but experience doesn’t vanish.”
“The issue is budget. Public broadcaster and they’re so stingy with spending. They won’t suddenly cut the budget later, right?”
It struck Jeong Seo-hoon as a bit unexpected.
With scheduling already confirmed and production meetings underway, for Kim Sang-hee to voice worries again.
“Do they cut budgets after confirming the slot?”
“Happens all the time. Especially at KBC. So don’t let your guard down until episode 1 airs.”
“Actually, not until the finale. Our station’s full of untrustworthy bastards.”
“The director will handle it, right?”
Jang Seung-won thumped his chest.
“No problem. The director’s the station head’s direct line, his trusted right hand. 2.5 billion per episode—solid.”
Around quitting time, Yang Jun-gyu, the section chief, felt a chill at the sudden drinking invite from the station head.
He hurriedly wrapped up and headed to the meeting spot the station head had picked.
Reserving a room, he waited calmly, steadying his nerves.
The station head didn’t show even after nearly an hour past the appointed time. No contact either.
An even worse, ominous sign.
Just as his fraying patience was about to meltdown and drill through his pelvis to his knees, the station head finally appeared.
He was already drunk.
“Station Head, you’ve had quite a bit.”
“Yeah. Why haven’t you eaten? I’m late without a word—you should’ve started. You knew why I’d be late.”
“Still, how could I eat first without you?”
“Must’ve been boring waiting alone. Order something.”
Yang Jun-gyu called the server and ordered drinks and snacks moderately. Just picked whatever stood out on the menu.
Now wasn’t the time to care about food.
The drinks arrived, and he downed them not knowing if they went in his nose or mouth.
“Drink. Drink more.”
The station head was radiating a bad vibe, like he was about to drop something hard to hear sober.
Once nicely buzzed, the station head finally spoke.
“Do something about the budget.”
“Ah! Station Head! How can you say that now?!”
“Sorry. No money.”
Originally, it was just supposed to be a light PD meeting and done.
But the impromptu production meeting stretched toward the deep night.
Now the three were deep into nano-level analysis of the script content.
“Wow, really. You’ve already read and memorized all 16 episodes? Sorry if this sounds weird, but damn. Impressive.”
Moving to a barbecue spot, the three kept the meeting going with just meat and rice, no booze.
“Is top of Korea University all like that? Unreal.”
“Not Korea U—Seo-hoon’s the special one. That’s why every actress he meets on set loses it.”
“Wait, even Chae Ji-hyun?”
“No. Nothing like that with Chae Ji-hyun.”
“What? Already calling her Chae Ji-hyun, not senior?”
“From what I saw, she’s definitely into you. Last time, she slyly asked why I only invited Yoo Jeong-ah to drinks. I knew it.”
The production meeting mixed in a bit too much gossip, but the provisional meeting burned with enthusiasm anyway.
Jeong Seo-hoon steered back from the gossip.
“For the Grand Minister Left State Councillor role, how about casting Teacher Lee Min-soo?”
Kim Sang-hee let out a small gasp of admiration.
“Oh, perfect.”
“Yeah. Facing off against Seo-hoon again from opposing sides—great buzz.”
“He got wrecked by Seo-hoon in Illegal and Su-jang-go too. Same role here—easy emotional immersion.”
The tragic prime minister framed for treason by the prince, publicly executed in the marketplace.
Similar position in past works, so fans would get a fresh thrill.
“Since it came up, should we ask Teacher now?”
“Now? Better to get approval first, then formal casting inquiry...”
“Who did you say gets active casting say?”
“The writer. Call him decisively now. Want me to dial?”
“Too late for a PD call. He sees me like a nephew, so I’ll do it.”
Artists sure have great action.
Kim Sang-hee called right there, her smile widening as the talk went on.
“Yes, Teacher. Hold on.”
Muting the mic, she turned to them.
“Teacher says he’ll buy a round—finish eating and come?”
“Gotta go! I finished ages ago!”
Jang Seung-won PD jumped up excitedly, grabbing his jacket. Jeong Seo-hoon stood silently in agreement.
Kim Sang-hee chuckled and unmuted.
“Yes, Teacher. We’re done. Heading out now. Where to?”
“Thanks to you, Jeong Seo-hoon, I get a one-scene role and hit 13 million viewers. Life’s all about that one shot.”
“No, Su-jang-go would’ve hit 13 million without me.”
“Doubt everyone thinks that but you. Right, Writer Kim?”
“It was good enough for 10 million without Seo-hoon. But breaking 13—that’s hugely thanks to him.”
She’d said before, ‘Without Jeong Seo-hoon, it’d have topped at 7-8 million.’
Image-managing neatly in front of Jang Seung-won and Lee Min-soo.
Pouring drinks, Jang Seung-won flattered too.
“Teacher Lee Min-soo’s acting was stellar. Come awards season, Illegal or Su-jang-go—good news all around.”
“What’d I do? The comet rookie did it all.”
“No, Teacher brought out better acting from me than usual.”
“That’s my line. Syncing with you pulls me in weirdly deep. Feels like leaving the world while cameras roll.”
“All the actors say that oddly. Cha Do-jin especially.”
Crisp cheers, and Jang Seung-won subtly probed.
“So, Teacher... the prime minister role...?”
“Like the part. I’m in.”
“Thank you. Won’t disappoint.”
Easily secured, Jang Seung-won beamed, refilling Lee Min-soo’s empty glass.
The mood was great.
Having heard the fictional additions and main plot from Kim Sang-hee, Lee Min-soo showed keen interest, focusing intently.
Rookie actor, veteran, star writer heads together buzzing—this thrilled the PD.
Then the phone rang.
“Excuse me a sec. Quick call.”
“Go ahead.”
“Take your time.”
“Please do.”
Caller: Section Chief Yang Jun-gyu.
Stepping out happily, Jang Seung-won answered.
“Yes, Chief. Atmosphere’s great here. Teacher Lee Min-soo’s a yes on casting. Jeong Seo-hoon vs. Lee Min-soo—buzz already exploding... What? What’d you say? Repeat that? Chief? For real? Serious? Bro! You can’t drop this on me now!”
Suppressing boiling rage, Jang Seung-won retorted.
“So what? Scrap it now?”
“That’s scrapping it! You know Kim Writer’s temper!”