King of Dying Acting - Chapter 47
The basics of drama filming start with studio shoots. They build sets and deploy multiple cameras to churn out countless cuts for editing.
On the flip side, location shoots—outdoor ones—can only use a single camera. You can't reinstall it every time you move spots, and even if you forced it, you'd run out of manpower.
That's why outdoor scenes always feel a bit lacking, no matter what.
So how do you overcome that?
Simple. Throw money at it to drag in extra crew and directors.
"Director Kim's here too?"
"Huh? Director Choi as well?"
"Well, damn..."
Inside the set, all the top camera directors exchanged surprised glances.
They were all wearing the same stunned expression because this wasn't the Black Forest shoot—it was King and Sovereign.
While Black Forest, from the same quarter, was splashing cash like water on production, King and Sovereign had a rep for being stingy as hell. These folks sure weren't burning through hundreds of millions a day on freelancers.
The directors quickly pieced it together.
"Looks like they're going all-in this time..."
"Yeah..."
They scratched their cheeks, faces mirroring the same thought.
This isn't the moment to splurge on cameras—
"You see the proposal for Black Forest the other day? How many extras they calling up?"
"Three thousand."
"...Still sounds insane."
Black Forest's response to King and Sovereign scaling up—after a recent CP switch—was clean and terrifying.
Crush them head-on.
CP Go Beom-su was getting 90s-era epic saga funding and cranking out scenes on that massive scale.
Even at minimum daily rates, extras alone would torch hundreds of millions.
Meanwhile—
"...Maybe a hundred?"
"Looks like some extra staff over there."
"Hmm..."
The King and Sovereign set looked pathetically small.
These camera directors were the types to brag they could make ten look like a hundred, but this? Maybe it was time to ditch the tricks and just hire more bodies.
Even for a star-driven drama, wasn't this a bit much—
As they swallowed their groans, PD Yu Ho-hyeon appeared out of nowhere with a greeting.
"Welcome. Let's have a great shoot today."
"Ah, yes."
"Looking forward to it."
No matter what, you couldn't straight-up ask the money man if this was okay.
The directors cleared their throats and asked.
"How we doing this? Spread out on the ground level?"
"Fill southwest and southeast, one from behind—should frame up decent..."
If tilt-down floating techniques let you capture crowds at a glance, ground-level was the opposite.
Like how dozens of humans look like a massive army from a mouse's view—it amplified the power of a small group.
With this crew size, no other options. The directors figured the PD would call it.
But his answer was off-base.
"Nah, that's fine. Just get the characters. Only them."
"Pardon?"
"Actor Yi Hoon and Actor Kang Min. Just those two."
"...?"
"I'll leave the style to your instincts. Truth is, I'm green on directing a single camera to catch it all, so that's why I called you guys. Trust your gut as much as possible."
...?
The directors fell silent in unison.
What the hell?
Has he lost it?
Yu Ho-hyeon bowed and backed off while they were still dazed.
Snapping out of it, they forced bitter smiles.
"...Desperate gamble."
"Ten years grinding obscurity for this shot at fame? No wonder he's cracked."
"Eh, we just do what we're told."
That thought flipped the second Actor Yi Hoon—
as Jwaui Jeong began his speech before the army.
...?
Choi Bong-man, the million-view director glued to the monitor, nearly dropped his hand.
The other two did too.
Choi Myeong—who'd just been spouting Confucius, Mencius, the second of the Five Classics, and Centrality and Commonality for pre-battle banter—stood there slack-jawed.
Nah, that was acting. But the soldiers around him? No way.
Looked more like stunned extras caught raw.
Yet amid the chaos, the Jwaui Jeong's mouth never stopped.
Standard revolutionary overthrow theory from Mencius days, punishment of tyrants. Every dynasty bragged about it in the histories.
—But no one had ever shouted it this boldly.
Jeong Ji-uk lowered his voice.
Raw fury simmered in the subdued tone.
Twisted.
20th-century propaganda, premise to conclusion all mangled.
But even viewers at home couldn't care less.
The Jwaui Jeong—Yi Hoon—
looked like a one-legged demagogue.
"......."
"......."
The directors gaped blankly.
They knew Yi Hoon was a great actor, of course.
But that piercing gaze, that haughty conviction? Not mere talent. Something they'd never seen.
Like a whole new person...!
Who the hell teaches you to act like that?
The aristocrats spewed curses and shouts, but Choi Myeong just turned his head dumbly.
Only they were raging.
They alone hated those words.
The Jwaui Jeong shut his mouth deliberately.
The brief silence—
Then the thunderous roar that followed.
For minutes like that,
the screen's tension built relentlessly, viewers' jaws dropping wider.
And finally, it peaked.
A colossal cheer erupts.
Meanwhile, the opposing soldiers—blank-eyed, souls fled.
Not low morale—gone. What follows isn't battle; it's advance and rout.
The royal forces, spears abandoned, just scatter and flee.
Some even surrender.
A few scream, but it's futile.
Officers slashing wildly get spears of fury plunged into their backs.
Jwaui Jeong's devotees cry out as they shield them.
It started faint.
Soon it spread through the crown prince's army.
These were armies dragooned from farmers with empty promises. No way discipline holds with blades at their backs.
Even officers bolt; chaos spirals.
The camera tilts up then down, capturing the aristocrats' panic and the pitiful remnants.
It wasn't lack of cash for extras.
They never needed more.
"......."
Is this a scene from a Korean sageuk—
Even viewers thinking that were overwhelmed, speechless.
But more stunned than them or the three directors? Obviously someone else.
Black Forest's CP Go Beom-su.
"Wh-what the... insane...!"
"C-CP... ratings just flipped..."
"This bullshit morale...!"
"CP, call from the head—president wants..."
"Kuh...!"
For Han Ye-seul, getting hustled by King and Sovereign wasn't rare.
She'd fake a break, pound pillows in the nap room for minutes, then stroll out cool as ever. Everyone pretended not to notice.
But Go Beom-su? Zero experience.
"No, we're still good!"
But a CP's a CP, rotten or not.
He clawed back control and barked orders.
"Insane scene, that's the problem! No follow-up!"
Joseon-era Jwaui Jeong rallies the masses with fascist-style speech, sparking revolution.
What card do you play after this madness?!
He yelled frantically.
"Tape! Get the tape! Check ratings too!"
"Y-yes!"
"Move, you idiots! It's early—hustle and we're fine!"
But the frantic staff froze soon enough.
The screen they gawked at featured one actor.
Hui-yul joins the desperate, despairing crown prince.
Staff faces turned resigned.
"What're you doing, assholes?!"
"...CP, Kang Min's out."
"I see it! So what?!"
"We're done... that bastard's gonna pull some impossible bullshit to screw us again..."
"Yeah, already this bad—rest is obvious..."
"What?! You all lost it?!"
Of course, Go Beom-su raged, thinking it utter nonsense.
But as always,
that nonsense hit home.
Who Knows, It Might Just Happen (5)