Movie: Master Plan (1)
The film opened in the president's office of Kwak Ji-chul's company.
Kwak Ji-chul tapped the desk, his expression sour as he spoke.
"No, sir. I didn't do anything wrong. If anything, I've been telling you since last month that we needed to shore that side up."
"I put a nice fat sum in there for you. You won't feel shortchanged. Take a break for a while, and once things quiet down, you can come back. I know Team Leader Kwak's skills better than anyone. Right?"
The president set a document envelope down in front of Kwak Ji-chul, who was taking the fall for the company's mistake.
The moment the envelope hit the desk, the scene cut to a trunk slamming shut.
Thud—!
The sudden sound made the audience flinch.
"Who did that? Did someone ding the door?"
"The trunk. The trunk."
In the apartment parking garage, the frame caught Kwak Ji-chul's massive forearm as the car owner next to him got out.
The extra playing the neighboring driver, still frozen in the posture of having just opened his door, took one look at Kwak Ji-chul's imposing bulk, ducked his head in a quick bow, and climbed straight back into his car. Laughter erupted from the seats.
"Honey, what are you doing home at this hour?"
Kwak Ji-chul's wife opened the door and took the envelope and his things.
"Ah, well. It just turned out that way. I need to lie down for a bit."
He kicked off his shoes and went inside, then lounged around in nothing but his underwear, soaking up the fan's breeze like a freeloader as he rambled through the whole explanation to his wife.
"Why should you take the blame for that? Those people are ridiculous."
"When they say jump, you jump. What else can I do?"
"Forget it, honey. You don't need to go back to a company like that. Just rest for a while. You said they put a lot into the severance, right?"
His wife peeked into the envelope Kwak Ji-chul had brought home.
"No—severance goes into the bank account. Those are just the resignation papers."
"Oh, is that so?"
After that came a montage of his freeloading life: sprawled on the sofa scratching his belly, hunching that massive frame over a computer in a way that didn't suit him at all as he played games. Soft laughter rose from the audience.
Then the mood flipped. Tense music swelled as the doorbell rang at Kwak Ji-chul's house.
"Yeah, who is it?"
"Mr. Kwak Ji-chul? We're here about a job request."
"I am Kwak Ji-chul, but I'm not the kind of person who takes jobs or anything like that."
"If you'd just open the door for a moment, sir, we'll come in and explain the business opportunity."
"Who is it, honey?"
"I don't know. Something about business. Salesmen, maybe?"
Jeong Su-yeon, watching the film, unconsciously clenched her hands tight.
No! Don't open it.
In every cliché, the moment you opened the door in a tense scene like this, something terrible happened.
Sure enough, when he casually opened the front door, three thugs in black suits shoved their way inside.
"Well hello there, President Kwak Ji-chul."
As the three men entered, Kwak Ji-chul naturally went on guard, defensive.
"Who are you people? You said business, so let's talk outside."
He tried to lead them out, but the men in suits pushed right in without hesitation.
"President Kwak, you've done a nice job with the interior. From outside you'd never know it was an old apartment."
As the black-suited men kicked off their shoes and walked in uninvited, Kwak Ji-chul followed and roughly grabbed one by the shoulder.
"Hey, who do you think you are barging into someone else's house? Get out. Now. Honey, call the police."
"Easy now. We might end up business partners. Let's keep things friendly, President."
"Aah!"
One of the thugs approached Kwak Ji-chul's wife and snatched her phone.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing!"
"Just take one simple job for us and we can all walk away smiling, President Kwak."
A gangster pulled a document from his briefcase and held it out.
Kwak Ji-chul took the paper and said,
"Back off from my wife and give her the phone. Then I'll at least read it."
"Young-sik, hand it over."
"Yes, hyung-nim."
Once his wife got her phone back and the thugs stepped away, Kwak Ji-chul read the request on the paper.
"This is an illegal gambling program."
"You've been talking down to us for a while now, President. That's right. Illegal gambling. Word is, designing a program like this, there's only a handful of people in the country who can do it besides you."
"...If I make something like this, my career is finished. How am I supposed to make it?"
"From what we hear, your career's already toast. Just make it quietly. What's a grown man fretting so much for?"
Looking at the expressions of the men behind him, Kwak Ji-chul could tell they'd come with their minds made up.
Refuse them here and they would resort to anything.
"Fine. I get it for now, so come back tomorrow. I need time to think it over and decide."
"We'll take that as a yes and come back tomorrow. And if you get any funny ideas..."
The gangster glanced at Kwak Ji-chul's wife behind him and smirked.
"You'll regret it for the rest of your life, President Kwak. The fist is closer than the law—more than you think."
The gangsters left, and Kwak Ji-chul immediately tried to report it to the police and get help.
"So, sir, you're saying these people entered your home without permission. That's illegal trespassing."
"No, that's not the point—they threatened to hurt us if I don't make an illegal gambling program!"
The officer, who seemed completely stuck in a rut, sighed and pushed a form across.
"But that hasn't actually happened yet, has it? We'll increase patrols in the area and look into the people you described, so please calm down. Would you fill out a statement for now?"
That night, somehow the gangsters found out and came back to the house to torment them again. Maseok Do, who cherished his family more than anything, tried to fight back—but with fighting skills that didn't match his bulk, he only got beaten.
"President Kwak, you bastard. Did the words 'the fist is closer than the law' go in one ear and out the other?"
Aah—!
When a gangster violently yanked his wife and daughter's hair, screams rang out. Kwak Ji-chul staggered up from his thoroughly beaten body and tried to charge again.
"Ha, this guy can't even take a hint. Exhausting. Hey, let them go."
On the order, the underlings released the hair, and the wife and daughter ran to Kwak Ji-chul.
"After what you went through today, you should get it. Settling this nicely is best for everyone. Understood? We'll be back tomorrow."
Once they left the house, silence fell.
The premiere theater went quiet too, until all you could hear was the audience swallowing hard.
After the gangsters left the wrecked house, Kwak Ji-chul's face hardened. He put his wife and daughter in the car.
He drove fast to his wife's family home in Busan and hid them there.
"I'll figure something out somehow, so stay put here and don't move."
"What if you get hurt, Dad?"
"Uncle Han-seong is a lawyer, remember? I called him earlier—he said he'll request police protection for you, so you'll be fine. Don't worry, just wait here."
Then Kwak Ji-chul turned his back on his worried family and stepped into the elevator.
In the next shot, the elevator he stepped out of wasn't at the family home—it was at the courthouse.
"Hey, Han-seong, is this really the end of it with this? That guy wasn't even one of the gangsters who came that day!"
"Those bastards are masters at cutting off the tail. Looks like they decided to sacrifice a small fry. At least he's not a first offender, so there's some sentence. Almost got suspended."
Thinking of the other organization members who'd been glaring at him outside the courtroom, Kwak Ji-chul's vision went dark.
"Han-seong, let me ride in the back of your car."
"Not taking yours?"
"The ones waiting at the door will tail my car."
"Hah, alright. Sorry I couldn't be more help."
Lying across the back seat of his lawyer friend's car, Kwak Ji-chul slipped past the watching eyes and left the courthouse.
Reporter Ju Yeo-ul of the Hanyeong Daily, watching the film, found a question forming in her mind.
They said Ryu Yeon-woo was a lead too... but it feels like nearly thirty minutes of runtime have already passed. Why hasn't he shown up yet?
Then came a scene of Kwak Ji-chul hiding in an old inn on the outskirts, putting out a request through dark channels—and only well into the film did Ryu Yeon-woo finally appear on screen.
Ohh—
He had merely appeared, yet a stir swept through the seats.
The close-up of Yeon-woo's face alone filled the screen almost oppressively.
And that face was not the somewhat gentle image of Ryu Yeon-woo from previous works or public appearances.
To tension-building music, he appeared in the Italian mafia's stronghold, legs crossed with aristocratic poise, one corner of his mouth lifted in a smile so wicked it was almost frightening—and Ryu Yeon-woo's presence became Pierre Choi himself, overwhelming the audience with pure charisma.
...Insane.
Reporter Ju Yeo-ul, who attended premieres professionally and saw countless films, racked her memory for whether any movie she'd watched this year had an entrance scene this impactful.
None.
While watching, Ju Yeo-ul was already spinning article titles in her head.
What do I even call this? All-time great entrance? Visual explosion?
Then came Pierre Choi's line in flawless Italian pronunciation.
Korean subtitles appeared below.
"I'll just use the restroom a moment."
As Pierre Choi walked between the mafiosi, his expression was caught in slow motion, shifting dynamically with every step.
From that wicked one-sided smile to a soft smile.
From the soft smile back to a mischievous, impish face—Pierre Choi's ever-changing visage.
Then Pierre Choi picked up a phone and made a call somewhere.
"Hey, President Kim. Yeah. What's the problem? Wiping the floor with these big-noses? Easy as pie. So make sure what we agreed on is ready."
Then, in a voice that seethed, he continued.
"Or you'll see hell."
Reporter Ju Yeo-ul, watching Ryu Yeon-woo on screen, was so overwhelmed by the charisma that for a moment she forgot to breathe or swallow.
Was he always an actor this overflowing with charisma...?
The Ryu Yeon-woo on the screen was Pierre Choi himself.
"I take everything I can get. And I only take interesting jobs. It'd be nice if the next job... wasn't from President Kim, you know?"
The way he rolled up just one corner of his mouth on screen was spine-tingling—his expression split perfectly left and right, half an innocent scamp, the other half a devil.
Pierre Choi, in that overwhelming presence, called to mind the face of Janus.
Ju Yeo-ul got goosebumps at the actor Ryu Yeon-woo, who wielded even those handsome features at will and, with a single expression across the screen, fully conveyed the character of Pierre Choi.
...This isn't the entrance direction or the visuals. It's just that actor's performance.