Promise Kept
Black Bride cumulative attendance: 0.
The occult maniac Choi Seok-mo frowned.
"What the hell? Why are there so many people?"
Given that it was a weekday morning, the crowd packed into the theater made no sense. Choi Seok-mo let out a long sigh.
"Man, this is killing my expectations."
When a minor genre started drawing in ordinary moviegoers, that was rarely a good sign. It usually meant the film lacked real genre depth.
The excitement Choi Seok-mo had built up for the long-awaited Korean occult film had already cooled a little. Still, since he’d booked a seat, he walked slowly into the theater.
Even though it was May, the air-conditioning inside was running full blast.
The chill in the air made Choi Seok-mo shiver faintly. By then, more and more people had kept streaming in until the theater was packed solid.
He was the only one there alone.
Feeling a little awkward, Choi Seok-mo glanced around. Then the blackout curtain dropped, and the theater went dark. With his surroundings cut off, he felt oddly at ease and fixed his eyes on the screen.
A cemetery?
The opening setting was a cemetery. Just as interest flickered in Choi Seok-mo’s eyes, the heroine, Seo Rin-bi, appeared.
Oh, Lee Ha-eun!
She was a top actress recognized not only for her beauty but also for her acting. The moment she appeared, Choi Seok-mo’s focus sharpened.
What kind of performance would Lee Ha-eun deliver in a thriller, in an occult film?
"?"
With a raw scream filling the theater, Seo Rin-bi, played by Lee Ha-eun, had her neck sliced off and dropped. Choi Seok-mo’s mouth slowly fell open.
"...What?"
The protagonist died five minutes into the movie? Stunned by the audacious opening, Choi Seok-mo leaned forward.
At the same time, the background changed, and Lee Ha-eun, who had just been decapitated, sprang back to her feet.
Seo Rin-bi, played by Lee Ha-eun, stroked her throat and muttered.
It was the first line in the movie. In that instant, the word nightmare was carved deep into Choi Seok-mo’s mind.
By then, the supporting cast and the leads began appearing one by one in earnest.
Seo Tae-jun as Kang Ji-hu, the man who had just killed Seo Rin-bi; veteran actor Park Tae-sik; elite supporting actor Kim Nam-seong; Go Ju-eun; and the rest of them were all actors known for their skill.
They threw themselves into the roles and lifted the mood of the film, which had started out subdued.
To Choi Seok-mo, a true occult-and-thriller maniac, that lighter atmosphere was a little disappointing, but it was still easy enough to accept.
Damn... this is tense, isn’t it?
The shock of the heroine’s death in the opening hit hard. Even so, Seo Rin-bi’s uneasy coexistence with Kang Ji-hu, the man who had killed her, kept the tension alive throughout the film. That one device alone was enough to keep the pressure simmering.
By the time the movie reached its midpoint, the tension in Seo Rin-bi’s expression began to cut through the film’s lighter tone and slowly take over.
Watching Kang Ji-hu grow ever more deranged in his obsession with exorcising demons, Seo Rin-bi shouted harshly,
Gulp.
The audience swallowed dryly.
In the meantime, the two of them confronted each other over a boy possessed by a demon who had murdered his entire family.
Kang Ji-hu glared at Seo Rin-bi. Under that icy stare, his face twisted into something monstrous and indescribable.
"!"
The startled audience trembled. So did Choi Seok-mo.
Holy crap... look at that CG.
If there were truly a demon that had crawled up from hell, wouldn’t it look exactly like that? Admiration and awe escaped him in spite of himself. Then Seo Rin-bi turned and started to run from Kang Ji-hu.
Choi Seok-mo’s eyes widened.
It’s the gravestone.
The cemetery gravestone from the opening scene, where Seo Rin-bi’s head had been cut off, appeared again.
Choi Seok-mo lurched forward.
- THUD THUD THUD!
The tension in the film exploded and took over the theater. A low, mournful orchestra surged from the giant speakers, prying at the audience’s ears.
Choi Seok-mo cheered inwardly.
That’s right! If it’s a thriller or an occult film, it should feel exactly like this!
Seo Rin-bi’s razor-edged scream rang through the theater once more.
Before her, sprawled on the floor, appeared Kang Ji-hu with a sickle in his hand. His throat bobbed.
So it really wasn’t a nightmare, it was a premonition.
Then was it Seo Rin-bi’s turn to have her throat cut now?
But if the protagonist got decapitated, wouldn’t the movie just end right there?
The succession of shocking turns, impossible to predict even an inch ahead, flooded Choi Seok-mo’s head with dopamine.
Seo Rin-bi began pleading through tears.
The sickle lifted in Kang Ji-hu’s hand came to a stop.
At Seo Rin-bi’s desperate plea, Kang Ji-hu’s demonic face gradually returned to normal. At the same time, disappointment flashed across Choi Seok-mo’s face.
"Ah..."
So that’s how they were going to cheapen it.
Were they seriously going to pull some melodrama here?
Just as he thought that, a trace of fear crossed Kang Ji-hu’s newly human face.
Watching the performance, Choi Seok-mo’s eyes widened.
The heart that had been disappointed only moments ago began pounding again.
The biggest reversal in the film. Choi Seok-mo screamed.
Holy shit!
They nailed it. Absolutely nailed it.
Black Bride on its second day of release.
At Blue Pine Production, I was idly fiddling with my smartphone while listening to the noise coming from the building.
Director Park, Team Leader Kim, and the rest of the staff beside me were pacing anxiously, unable to hide their nerves.
"I’m seriously losing my mind..."
"Ugh, my heart hurts. When are the results coming out?"
"The distributor said they’d give us day-one attendance in an hour, so just hang in there. They’ll call soon."
A few staff members muttered while refusing to take their eyes off their laptops.
"The reaction on SNS and the communities is historic, but the attendance should still be okay, right?"
"Yeah, but people are saying it’s too violent, so I can’t exactly relax. It’s Family Month, and they’re saying it’s a bit much for family outings."
"Hey, hey! Since when do thriller and occult movies need to be all smiles and laughter? It has to feel like this!"
Listening to them, I kept fiddling with my phone and thought it over.
A movie that’s a little rough for families...
Right.
Black Bride definitely wasn’t the kind of film you’d watch as a family.
It starts with the heroine losing her head, literally. How are you supposed to watch that with kids?
And if we tried to make it something even children could watch comfortably, could we still call it a thriller, an occult film?
In the end, it came down to focus and choice.
Black Bride stayed faithful to the thriller-occult genre, and that meant it had to win on the movie’s own fun and impact.
What result that choice would bring, I couldn’t say.
But...
I didn’t really regret it. I didn’t really worry either.
A fun work eventually finds its audience.
And Black Bride was a fun work.
If that fun reached the audience properly, then the drawbacks that came with the occult-thriller genre were more than worth carrying.
Thinking that, I looked up.
"...Director!"
A second assistant director appeared at the lobby entrance, out of breath.
At the same time, my smartphone buzzed lightly.
"Day-one attendance is in!"
At the assistant director’s shout, everyone turned to look at him.
As for me, my eyes went to my phone.
"Day-one attendance..."
The assistant director trailed off.
Meanwhile, I checked the data sent directly by the distributor’s team leader and smiled.
"We got 300,000! A hit... no, a massive hit!"
It worked. The fun of Black Bride had landed.
Baekhak headquarters.
After returning to work for the first time in a while, I went up to the rooftop smoking area.
I put a cigarette between my lips and lit it.
The moment I exhaled a long stream of white smoke, I heard the employees around me whispering.
"Did you hear? Black Bride totally blew up."
"Day-one attendance was 300,000? Wow... isn’t that pacing like a ten-million movie?"
"If it keeps this pace, it should easily get there, right? The previous ten-million movie, American Cross-Country Marathon, had 350,000 on day one."
Ten-million pace.
At that one phrase, the corner of my mouth slowly rose.
"Whoa, Lee Ha-eun really is an amazing actress."
"No, but it’s not just Lee Ha-eun who’s amazing... isn’t Team Leader Kwon even more amazing?"
"Huh? Does the story go that way?"
My lifted lips curved into a grin.
Ah, this feels great.
"At first I thought it was luck, but at this point, doesn’t it really seem like there’s something to him?"
"Come to think of it, it feels less like luck and more like Team Leader Kwon’s skill now."
"How sharp does your eye for projects have to be to keep hitting home runs like this?"
"Well, still, we don’t know yet. It’s an occult thriller, isn’t it?"
One employee shrugged and threw in a jab.
"Movies in this genre tend to lose steam halfway through. The next thing you know, it’ll go head-to-head with the Apocalypse series opening next next week, and nobody knows what the final score will be. We’ll have to watch it all the way through to know."
Come to think of it, he was right.
Yeah.
Occult-thriller films honestly tend to lack finishing power.
And the rival Apocalypse series was scheduled to open next next week.
But the corner of my mouth, already raised, had no intention of coming back down.
The Apocalypse series is the rival?
Yeah, no.
To me, the Apocalypse series wasn’t a rival.
Given the genre of Black Bride, it was the perfect supporting actor, the one that would help fill in the weak finishing stretch.
Suppressing a laugh, I pulled out my phone.
A message from the SQ distributor’s team leader was waiting for me.
- Team Leader Kwon, here’s the day-three score.
Black Bride day-three score: 1.5 million.
Remaining to ten million: 8.5 million.
The SQ headquarters office in charge of Black Bride distribution.
"This is real?"
When SQ’s Director Kim asked, Team Leader Park standing before him nodded with a dazed look.
"...It’s hard for me to believe too, but yes, Director."
"300,000 on day one and 1.5 million by day three? You’re saying this is real?"
"...Yes, sir. But what’s even more shocking is that the advance booking rate isn’t dropping."
Team Leader Park’s Adam’s apple bobbed hard.
"It was 60.2 percent before opening day, and even now, a full week later, it’s still at 51.5 percent."
An unbelievable claim, spoken from Team Leader Park’s mouth.
Director Kim’s eyes flew wide.
"Usually the pre-sale rate peaks on the first day, so at this level it’s basically not falling at all."
"...So what’s the cumulative attendance now?"
"It’s at 3.5 million."
"3.5 million in five days?"
"Yes. 3.5 million in five days."
Director Kim was at a loss for words and closed his mouth. In the heavy silence that settled naturally between them, Director Kim and Team Leader Park looked at each other awkwardly.
Then, after keeping quiet the whole time, Manager Kim raised a hand.
"Director, isn’t this an opportunity too good to miss?"
Carefully, Manager Kim put the suggestion on the table.
"The reaction is record-breaking. Wouldn’t it be good to run a ticket discount event around now?"
Director Kim, recovering himself, asked back,
"A ticket discount event, all of a sudden?"
"It’s something the sponsors brought up. It seems they’ve been paying attention to the Black Bride craze too. Interest in the film is so high that they want to do a collaboration, and frankly I think it’s not a bad proposal."
"If the discount is too deep, won’t that affect revenue?"
Manager Kim shook his head.
"There might be a tiny difference, but I don’t think it’ll be significant. Even when these discount events happen, they usually only attract the people who were going to join anyway."
"Hmm, that makes sense. Talk to the sponsors and move forward with the discount event. As soon as possible."
"Yes, sir!"
Team Leader Park and Manager Kim left the office.
Left alone, Director Kim tapped the Black Bride poster a few times.
"...Right. It was about time one of these came along."
The film industry was always a hard place, but every so often a movie appeared that felt like a rescue pitcher coming out of nowhere.
And this movie seemed to be exactly that.
"A ten-million movie. It’s about time one showed up. I never expected it to be an occult thriller, though."
Black Bride cumulative attendance: 3.5 million.
Remaining to ten million: 6.5 million.
At a luxury restaurant in Hannam-dong, SAG CEO Park Su-chan cut into a veal steak and muttered.
"Secretary Park."
"Yes, sir."
"What’s the cumulative attendance for Black Bride?"
Secretary Park took out a tablet PC and answered.
"As of the one-week mark, 3.5 million. And up to now..."
Secretary Park trailed off for a moment, then muttered with visible surprise.
"It’s at 4.5 million cumulative. It’s already passed the break-even point."
CEO Park Su-chan spat the veal steak he’d been chewing onto the plate.
"Fuck. My stomach hurts."
He wiped the sauce from the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief and leaned back in his chair.
"Black Bride was invested in-house by Baekhak, right?"
"...Yes, that’s correct."
"Was it about a 50 percent investment?"
"Exactly 65 percent."
Park Su-chan let out a hollow laugh.
"This is seriously fucking annoying."
With that, he sighed deeply and covered both eyes with his hands.
"That movie, from what I heard, was a project pushed through by that guy Kwon Chan that Baek Ji-won keeps protecting, right?"
"Yes, sir."
"What happened with finding out who that bastard is?"
Secretary Park held out the tablet PC.
"Here it is, sir."
"You’re late with your work. You know what I mean, Secretary Park?"
"I’m sorry."
Taking the tablet, Park Su-chan read through the organized materials.
A moment later.
"Hah?"
A derisive laugh burst from Park Su-chan’s mouth.
"So there was a reason this bastard wouldn’t be bought with money."
His eyes narrowed with something sly and wicked.
"Kwon Chan was a lottery winner?"
Black Bride day-ten score: 4.5 million.
Remaining to ten million: 5.5 million.
My eyes snapped open.
My mind was still sluggish from the fatigue lingering in my body.
Where am I?
Right.
I’d been working at the company.
As awareness gradually returned, I turned my head and saw the sun setting.
"I must have nodded off."
Overtime, overtime, overtime.
For the past few days, I’d been running nonstop on Black Bride scheduling, actor promotion, and advertising appearances, and the exhaustion had finally hit all at once, knocking me out for a moment.
I rubbed my still-stiff eyelids and searched for my smartphone.
When I checked the time, I saw I’d only slept for an hour, and in that time dozens of messages and calls had come in.
Checking the contacts mechanically, I forced my drowsy eyes open and muttered,
"I should probably get some coffee."
I was already way past the point where caffeine could hold me together, but there was no helping it.
This was no time to sleep comfortably with my feet up.
Black Bride had reached 3.5 million in its first week.
The cumulative attendance so far was 4.5 million.
It had already passed break-even on day eight.
The 5 million I saw in the future messages looks easy enough.
At this pace, how far could it go?
6 million?
No, 4.5 million on day ten meant 6 million was probably too low.
Then 7 million? 8 million?
Or maybe... ten million?
I didn’t know.
The attendance was climbing too fast for me to predict.
So I couldn’t rest.
Even if I was exhausted, now was the time to get up.
Even if it felt like I might collapse, I had to drag myself back to my feet.
Too much was riding on this film’s performance.
The moment I made that resolve and started to rise, I found someone sitting across from me beneath the pouring sunset.
My eyes went wide.
"Representative?"
Seated there, quietly watching me, Representative Baek wore a faint smile at the corner of her mouth.
"Sleep well, Team Leader Kwon?"
My expression turned sheepish.