Standing Out (2)
Production company Munbak Film, which was making Gyeollo, had been circulating audition notices and open calls since the 4th, two days earlier. Of course, they had done it without mentioning the Busan International Film Festival angle. Small or large, the entertainment companies had all sent the information around to the public, but no one expected much.
After all, Gyeollo was a short film, and the big entertainment companies had little interest in shorts or indie films, which sat outside the mainstream.
Maybe the tiny agencies wouldn’t care, but mid-sized, major, and even long-established smaller companies would almost certainly ignore Gyeollo. And in practice, they had. Especially the mid-sized and larger agencies, where scripts and scenarios came in by the dozen every day.
Why would a short like Gyeollo attract any attention?
Leon Entertainment was no different. Director Kwon Seongmin and Munbak Film had expected more from the open call posts on social media and community boards than from the entertainment companies themselves. Usually, only unskilled nobodies would apply, but even being able to hold auditions was a good sign for Gyeollo.
And then.
"...Yoon Dayeon? The actress I know?"
Out of nowhere, actress Yoon Dayeon was brought up. And not just her, either. Leon Entertainment was apparently sending one of their unknown actresses along with her.
Director Kwon Seongmin was dumbfounded by the unexpected news.
Yoon Dayeon?
"No... you mean actress Yoon Dayeon? Really? Not someone with the same name?"
It sounded impossible. Jeong Taewoo, the head of Munbak Film, looked just as baffled.
"Yes, actress Yoon Dayeon. I checked because I thought it might be a namesake, but it’s definitely her. Leon Entertainment only has one Yoon Dayeon."
The other staff members were shocked too, and Director Kwon Seongmin’s eyes looked like they had no intention of shrinking back to normal.
"W-why would Yoon Dayeon be auditioning for Gyeollo...? Could she have mixed us up with another project?"
"No. I called the manager, the one named Kang- well, anyway, and confirmed it. The audition application is real."
"Does Yoon Dayeon really have any reason to do a short film like Gyeollo? Isn’t she still active?"
Now a little calmer, Jeong Taewoo sat beside Kwon Seongmin.
"She is. I looked into it briefly, and Yoon Dayeon is currently appearing in a morning drama. But honestly, she was only all right back then. Now she’s well past her prime. By quite a bit, actually. She had a long gap in between, too. The morning drama she’s in now is barely a bit role."
He had wrapped the word has-been in a polite phrase.
"Still, it’s surprising that she applied for a short film audition. We kept the Busan International Film Festival part out of the materials, just as planned."
"Exactly. Yoon Dayeon is coming to audition, right? I’m the one who has to judge her... and."
"Yes."
The audition itself was already the first of its kind for him, and now an established actress like Yoon Dayeon had suddenly appeared in the picture, doubling Kwon Seongmin’s tension.
"Maybe the director just didn’t see the information properly?"
"No. The audition notice stated it clearly: the synopsis for Gyeollo, the director’s background, and a free-performance preparation. It’s strange that Yoon Dayeon is coming to audition for our Gyeollo, sure, but what I find even more puzzling is that Leon Entertainment showed interest at all."
"Me too. I was shocked. Completely."
Jeong Taewoo rubbed his chin.
"Leon Entertainment is big enough that I don’t need to tell you. They don’t have to reach for a short film if they don’t want to. They have a rookie development team and a new business team, so if they wanted to, they could produce a short film themselves."
"Then why ours?"
"I don’t know. From what the manager said on the phone... they just told me they liked the work."
With his heart pounding, Director Kwon Seongmin recalled Leon Entertainment’s failed open call.
So it wasn’t meaningless after all!
He gained a little confidence. If Gyeollo hadn’t been submitted to Leon’s open call, there would have been no investor, and no interest from Leon at all.
"This is so strange. I can’t believe things like this actually happen..."
As Kwon Seongmin murmured the words with genuine feeling while taking off his glasses, Jeong Taewoo patted his shoulder.
"This is the entertainment industry. Anything can happen. You should be proud of it, because this all came from your Gyeollo."
"Th-thank you. Ah! But who’s the other actor from Leon?"
"Ah... the name was An Jihee. She’s an unknown. Probably an acting trainee Leon is trying to develop. Still, if Leon is willing to nurture her, she must have some decent talent. Though sometimes they push through with nothing but raw stubbornness and a bit of acting skill."
"I see."
"If her skills are lacking, cut her without hesitation. Don’t overthink it. No matter how big Leon is, a bad fit is a bad fit."
"Yes, yes."
After answering, Director Kwon Seongmin let out a long breath.
"I’m looking forward to the 8th, in more ways than one."
Two days later, the 8th was the audition day for Gyeollo.
Meanwhile.
The large conference room at Cheongyeon Studio was unusually quiet. Director Hong Manseop, with his thick eyebrows, and several others looked dazed, while Lee Chanhoo, seated across from them, wore a relaxed smile.
The reason Hong Manseop had frozen up was because Lee Chanhoo’s decision had been so clean and decisive.
"...Y-you really mean it? You’ll invest one billion won?"
Lee Chanhoo had made the call with complete ease. Ten hundred million won into Day Moon House. Compared to a commercial film, or a Hollywood or Japanese animated feature, it was a very small sum.
But if the target was a Korean animated film, it was an amount no one could ignore.
In any case, this was a result reached dozens of times faster than with Huayan Partners. Even the Chinese capital from Huayan Partners had taken days to decide, while Lee Chanhoo of MEG had decided in seconds.
"Yes. Cleanly, one billion won, no split. MEG will invest."
"......"
"Why the long face? Do you perhaps dislike it?"
"W-what? No! Not at all! I was just... surprised."
"Haha, I see."
"B-but you haven’t even read the script for Day Moon House, and I haven’t explained the content or the situation. Why did you decide to invest?"
No, Kang Jaeha and Lee Chanhoo already knew the general situation of Day Moon House, if not every detail. Unable to say that, Lee Chanhoo gave a light shrug.
"Well, just a hunch."
"...A hunch?"
"Yes. A hunch. Let’s just leave the details at the level of trade secrets. What you need to think about is whether you’re taking MEG’s investment or not."
At that point, Lee Chanhoo remembered the lines Jaeha had prepared for him.
The important thing is the nuance, that you’re embracing not only Hong Manseop but the entire Korean animated film market.
He added a little flesh to that thought and spoke.
"One thing I can say is that I hope the lineage of pure Korean animated films doesn’t disappear."
Back in this world, not the other one, Lee Chanhoo had worked in production for a long time. He knew the drought in the Korean animation market well.
"Korea isn’t lacking in skill or technology compared to Hollywood, Japan, or China, right? I’ve heard there are plenty of people active in Hollywood and Japan as well. What’s been missing is just one thing: money. The period during which money was blocked went on too long, and as a result the animation market dried up. No, it’s on the verge of collapse."
"......"
"Contributing to the development of the Korean animated film market? That’s not some grand ideal. I’m a merchant."
By any measure, the Korean animation market had become a has-been, the sort of neglected nobody no one cared about.
"I’m entering because there’s potential. You could call it a niche market."
Hong Manseop said nothing, simply listening. The people from Cheongyeon Studio were the same. They had no choice, because what Lee Chanhoo said was mostly true. In the middle of it all, Lee Chanhoo was pleased with his own pitch.
When it comes to talking, I’m still the man. Ah, the commander should’ve seen this.
Whatever Hong Manseop thought of Lee Chanhoo’s inner workings, he was deeply moved in this moment.
A merchant? No. For us, he’s a benefactor.
The initial distrust was already gone. Hong Manseop pushed the prepared script for Day Moon House toward Lee Chanhoo, then bowed deeply to him, this savior who had appeared out of nowhere.
"Please take good care of us from here on, investor."
"Ah. Yes."
"We’ll do our utmost to finish Day Moon House."
"......"
Keeping his smile in place, Lee Chanhoo raised a question mark in his head.
Huh. That guy’s eyes are kind of wet. Did he take this a little more intensely than I expected?
After that, Lee Chanhoo heard a great deal from Hong Manseop about Day Moon House. The story, how far production had progressed, the schedule, where things were headed, and so on.
"You’re always welcome to come by during production and check the editing site. We’d appreciate it if you could come to production meetings too. If you’re busy, of course, that can’t be helped. We’ll send you updates every time we have one."
"Sure. Uh, could I get two copies of the Day Moon House script?"
"Of course."
The meeting lasted about an hour. Hong Manseop and the rest of Cheongyeon Studio saw Lee Chanhoo off all the way to the elevator.
The temperature was in stark contrast to Huayan Partners. Only after the elevator doors closed did Lee Chanhoo let out a long breath.
"Whew. It was rough keeping my expression under control."
He wasn’t in a bad mood. He had drawn the direction Jaeha wanted.
"Have I ever been treated this respectfully before?"
It was the first time he’d ever been treated like a savior. He was a front man with a backer behind him, yes, but as Lee Chanhoo got into the car, he was humming under his breath before he knew it.
By then, a message had arrived for Kang Jaeha, who was sitting in the Management Team 4 seat.
-Buzzz.
The sender was Munbak Film, with news confirming the Gyeollo audition. After checking the date, time, and location, Jaeha smiled faintly and thought of Yoon Dayeon and An Jihee.
The audition is on the 8th, two days from now, at 3 p.m. We can all meet at the company and head there together.
The audition venue was not Munbak Film. It seemed they had rented a separate place. In any case, Jaeha informed Yoon Dayeon and An Jihee of the confirmed audition and the details by text.
Their replies were completely different, just as their personalities were.
An Jihee’s message carried nerves and anticipation.
Yoon Dayeon showed force rather than nerves, her fighting spirit practically spilling through the screen.
At that time, a senior-level meeting was underway in Leon Entertainment’s large conference room. Team leaders and directors were taking the meeting seriously, and once again Management Team 4 had been put on the chopping block. The issue had been raised by a director from the rookie development team.
"If Team 4 is to survive, there needs to be some result, but I don’t see anything likely to stand out either now or in the future, President."
The other directors shared a similar view. President Han Taeseong slowly stroked his chin, listening without comment. Just as Kang Jaeha’s face flickered briefly through his mind, an unexpected figure stepped up to defend Management Team 4.
Not too much. Just enough.
"...No, I think Team 4 can be given a little more time."
It was Director Kim Cheoljung, grinding his teeth without showing it. The others tilted their heads at his sudden change in stance, while President Han Taeseong...
"......"
...only wore a strange smile.
The next morning, Saturday the 7th.
At Huayan Partners, where they had met with Hong Manseop from Day Moon House two days earlier, a report was being delivered.
"How did the meeting with Cheongyeon Studio go?"
The person who had attended the meeting wore a confident smile as he explained what had happened.
"They earnestly asked for time, so we told them we’d give them about a week."
"Mm."
"But Cheongyeon Studio... no, Director Hong Manseop will have no choice but to accept our terms. There’s nowhere else showing interest in Day Moon House now. On the other hand, Hong Manseop is desperate."
"You made the terms clear?"
"Of course. By now he’s probably busy coming up with a new character to add."
He meant the Chinese character.
"We can’t give him the full one billion. Make it so the project wraps up for no more than five hundred million."
"Understood."
Then the reporter’s phone rang. It was Hong Manseop. Of course, just as expected, he couldn’t wait a week and was calling to accept. The man who had been instructed to answer switched to speakerphone and connected the call with Hong Manseop.
"Director Hong Manseop. Have you finished thinking it over?"
"Yes."
"Haha, so you finished in two days, not a week. You must have reached a conclusion?"
"Yes. We will not accept Huayan Partners’ investment."
"Right, got it.... what? What did you just say?"
"I said we’re not taking the investment."
After hearing Hong Manseop’s answer, everyone at Huayan Partners opened their mouths slightly. A brief silence held. In that gap, Hong Manseop spoke again through the phone.
"We’ll make it ourselves, so we won’t be taking any more calls from you."
At the same time, in the MEG office.
Even Kang Jaeha, who had the day off for Saturday, was listening to Lee Chanhoo’s report from the MEG office that morning. Naturally, it was about the meeting with Hong Manseop regarding Day Moon House the day before.
After being told everything that had happened, Jaeha nodded without much reaction, while Lee Chanhoo was the one who looked a little worked up.
"Your reaction’s pretty lukewarm, Commander. It’s one billion won. One billion."
"I heard you. Why are you making a scene?"
"No, it’s because the Commander’s acting like one billion is nothing."
"I figured it would be around that much."
"You actually have one billion won?"
One billion? Kang Jaeha did. More precisely, the Déjà vu boost had already secured more than 1.2 billion won in funds, and even after funding Gyeollo and Day Moon House, more than 200 million remained.
The 700 million pension will be recharged soon too.
Once the second 700 million came in, the total would climb back toward one billion again.
And in the meantime, another money-scented Déjà vu could come around.
The situation was not bad.
"Would I have started this if I didn’t?"
At that, Lee Chanhoo scratched his head and asked,
"But is this really okay? Of all places, the market’s practically starving to death. I get the picture you’re drawing, putting one billion into Korean animation, buying low and selling high, but..."
"It’s not just low. It’s the floor."
"That’s what I mean. If things go the way you say, sure, we’ll make some money, but I’m a little on edge."
"On edge? You’re the guy who used to take heads off in the assassination squad like it was nothing."
"I’d still say you were better at it, Commander. Calmly, like you do now. Anyway, this is different from that place. You can’t just snip off a head and move on."
"It’ll work out."
Kang Jaeha had no hesitation at all. Multiples of the investment amount would be made back; that was already certain. And beyond that, Jaeha was thinking one step further.
"And who knows? Maybe this animated film, Day Moon House, will become the foothold."
"For the future world."
---