Chapter 142
Director Shim Sung Bo’s frail voice continued.
“I’m not sure if I made the right choice by selecting this project….”
“Oh, of course, you did. Naturally, you chose it after thoroughly reviewing the script. The synopsis was so well written.”
At Lee Min Ki’s confident words, devoid of any doubt, Shim Sung Bo pouted further and said,
“Still, wasn’t your name value a bit too much for this?”
“Do you think so?”
“Yes, you even had your name added to the list of co-producers.”
That was correct.
This film proudly displayed the co-producer list.
[Shim Sung Bo]
[Jin Joo Yeon]
[Lee Min Ki]
These three names were included.
[Man Man Two] was originally a dual-production system by Shim Sung Bo and Jin Joo Yeon, but Lee Min Ki had nominally joined as well.
“We’re grateful for your help, of course, but that must have been a significant factor, right?”
In response to the utterly unconfident voice, Lee Min Ki chuckled lightly and said,
“Yes, that might be true. They must have taken my name into account to some extent. Denying it would be a lie.”
“I knew it….”
The next moment, as he looked deflated.
“But what’s so bad about that?”
Lee Min Ki shrugged as he spoke.
“Isn’t it always the case that you have to pass the preliminaries to get to the finals? Using my name to get past the preliminaries is fine; we can move forward from here.”
“……”
“The only reason I leveraged my name was to make it easier to promote the project by claiming I participated as a producer. I won’t interfere with the film. From that point on, it’s up to the directors’ skills.”
He meant it literally.
Lee Min Ki had no intention of deeply involving himself in the production process; he only used his name as a marketing tool.
“If I interfere and the film quality drops, I’m the one who loses out, isn’t that right?”
He believed in leaving the expert’s domain to the experts.
It was a small principle of his.
Experts see the big picture, and sometimes the small picture looks strange to them.
On the other hand, beginners only see the small picture and don’t know how to draw the big one.
In Lee Min Ki’s opinion, what the film needed was the big picture.
‘These two have proven abilities.’
The key was autonomy.
Lee Min Ki wanted them to fully unleash their creativity.
1,000%, no, why not go all out and aim for 10,000%.
‘The lack of confidence has a clear reason.’
They’d been harshly criticized.
Their previous work, despite being highly anticipated, had failed with just 300,000 viewers.
And to add, Lee Min Ki wasn’t much older than them.
A superstar actor and a struggling director.
In this relationship, the scales tipped according to the power dynamics.
But balance would be restored soon enough.
“Since the actor himself is saying so,”
Jin Joo Yeon interjected and added,
“As soon as Netplay gives the green light, we’ll do some preliminary filming and immediately spread the news to the media. Is that okay?”
Since they brought him in as a promotional tool, it seemed they planned to use him to the fullest.
At her bold and determined words, Lee Min Ki chuckled lightly and replied,
“I’m fine with that. Use me as much as you want. That’s what I’m good at. But let’s coordinate it through JC.”
“Yes, JC would handle that much better. We also see this project as not just involving you but as a collaborative work with JC.”
How refreshing.
In fact, dealing with someone like this was easier.
Lee Min Ki, having made up his mind, stood up and said,
“Well, until we hear back from Netplay, there’s nothing to do, so why don’t we visit some prop companies or scout filming locations?”
“Do you have a lot of free time these days?”
“Finished up all my urgent schedules.”
At Jin Joo Yeon’s curious remark, Lee Min Ki shrugged and said,
“I’m a co-producer in name, after all. It’s my job to tag along with the directors.”
Leaving the two with blank expressions, he was about to get some coffee when—
“Oh, hang on, let me take this call.”
The phone rang.
The voice on the other end of the line.
It was exactly as Lee Min Ki had expected.
“I told you, didn’t I? It’ll get approved.”
The first film he invested in as a producer.
Netplay had given the green light.
In the slightly tense office, Lee Min Ki shrugged awkwardly and said,
“Director, am I the only one happy about this?”
“Huh?”
“Can’t you celebrate with me?”
“Oh, hahaha! Hahaha! Hahahahaha!!”
How awkward.
Two months had already passed since Lee Min Ki returned from the U.S.
In that time, the things he accomplished were—
[What’s Lee Min Ki doing these days?]
Not much at all.
[I saw him shooting a few commercials here and there.]
[Stuff like Real Protein and gym ads?]
[He’s still doing commercials for Beomcheon Coffee; did he sign an exclusive contract?]
[He occasionally models for the company that makes Terminus, too.]
[Do they pay him a lot?]
[Nope, I heard Lee Min Ki doesn’t take huge payments.]
Considering the buzz he created in Hollywood,
One would’ve expected him to stir up new projects or leave for overseas work again after returning to Korea,
But surprisingly, he remained quiet, with no noteworthy updates.
If he’s quiet, it’s strange.
Lee Min Ki’s stature had reached that level.
[Isn’t the Hollywood thing all hype?]
[There’s a rumor that AST was furious because Lee Min Ki rejected them.]
[Why would Lee Min Ki reject them?]
[Is it true he got an offer?]
[Yes, he was offered a role. An insider confirmed it, saying AST was really upset because he turned it down.]
The only thing left circulating were rumors.
[Why did he reject it?]
[Apparently, they demanded an exclusive contract?]
[?]
[??]
[Why would he reject that?]
Although rumors, the rejection of a Hollywood offer was practically accepted as fact.
At this point, public speculation could only veer in one direction.
[What project did he choose that made him turn down Odin Universe?]
They wanted to know what alternative was worth choosing over that.
From a commercial perspective, no blockbuster currently surpasses Odin Universe globally.
So, was there a bigger proposal he had accepted?
There were some speculations.
A partnership had been formed with a world-renowned director.
Or perhaps, a domestic film company had paid a large sum to secure a deal.
Lee Min Ki had developed an artistic obsession, and so on.
But there was no concrete answer.
[Stop resting and do something.]
Amidst the exchange of words,
the answer was revealed.
An answer that perfectly dodged everyone's expectations.
[A struggle of all against all?]
[Who are these unknown directors?]
[What's with the Netflix exclusive?]
[A struggle of all against all].
How did this film, centered on the battle royale genre, manage to capture Netflix's attention?
The reason was actually quite simple.
[Low budget]
[Production cost only 2 billion won]
The requested production budget was minimal.
Of course, by Korean film standards, 2 billion won wasn’t exactly a small amount.
It was ambiguously placed between a low and mid-budget range.
But that was merely the standard for Korean film companies.
From Hollywood’s perspective, where billion-dollar budgets were common,
[Even if it flops, it’s not a loss.]
[It’s intriguing as well.]
Even if it failed, it could be discarded and still serve to fill a spot in the playlist.
[It’s not much money anyway.]
Here, Director Sim Seong Bo’s genius shone through.
‘Even from my perspective, it’s astonishing.’
On a remote island,
Lee Min Ki couldn’t help but laugh at the unbelievable filming conditions.
‘The cost-saving skills are insane.’
Director Sim Seong Bo’s knack for tightening the budget was remarkable.
“Okay, Mr. Yang Kyu, head over there. Behind the rock, yes! Mr. Cheol Mo, under the tree.”
Why was the setting of [A Struggle of All Against All] on an island?
That was where the cost-saving began.
‘No separate set; they’re using an entire island.’
A real island was used as the backdrop.
It was a deserted island from the Shinan Diamond Archipelago, once inhabited but now empty.
‘They’re thoroughly utilizing the island’s topography for filming.’
Even renting the island didn’t cost much.
In fact, they were paid to film there.
[These days, marketing filming locations for movies works quite well.]
Shinan County provided funding for the production as compensation for shooting on their island.
Artificial props were almost entirely excluded.
‘The film’s setting matched the real-life backdrop perfectly, so it posed no issues.’
The island was described as abandoned after its residents had left.
The island in [A Struggle of All Against All] had the same premise.
A lawless deserted island where people from all over were kidnapped and thrown into—a fitting match.
And there was another factor.
“Ah! That was a great death!”
“Oh no, I’m dead.”
The gradually decreasing number of participants reflected that.
“Thank you all for your hard work today!”
“You’ll cover the travel expenses, right?”
“Haha, of course.”
“Director, if you have another shoot, please call me. I’ll be waiting.”
“Hey, I should be the one asking.”
With each day of filming, the number of people visibly decreased.
This was a characteristic of the battle royale genre.
Death meant departure.
In other words, [A Struggle of All Against All] incurred high labor costs only in the early stages, while the budget decreased as filming progressed.
This resonated with the viewers.
[You can’t predict who will die next from beginning to end.]
[Give them some attention, and they’re dead within five minutes, LOL.]
[Worried whether the protagonist would die or not.]
Killing off characters without hesitation.
Though the primary purpose was to reduce production costs, it appeared to viewers as a bold and dynamic narrative.
Easier said than done.
Actually pulling it off required exceptional skill in directing.
‘Truly a master of low-budget planning.’
And another factor.
“Action!”
Pow!
Action scenes primarily focused on hand-to-hand combat and knife fights.
Since they avoided special effects and centered on physical action, there wasn’t much room for the budget to increase.
Even mediocre action was acceptable!
The film’s premise involved ordinary people who weren’t skilled in fighting being forced to brawl!
And yet, the action quality was excellent.
“Good! Let’s adjust the angle and shoot again!”
Director Sim Seong Bo’s meticulous action choreography was evident.
‘This is unexpectedly impressive.’
Even Lee Min Ki, skeptical at first, was astounded.
‘I was worried because he seemed so frail, but he’s mastered directing intense action scenes. He’s a genius.’
Director Sim Seong Bo’s action choreography was at its peak.
It was a misunderstanding.
He thought Director Jin Joo Yeon would handle the dynamic scenes while Director Sim Seong Bo sketched the larger framework, but he was wrong.
“Director Seong Bo, I’ll quickly go bring someone over from the front.”
“Be careful on your way.”
“Shall I grab a coffee on my way back?”
“No, just drink water.”
“It’s for the actors, not you.”
Director Jin Joo Yeon primarily oversaw and coordinated the entire set.
Director Sim Seong Bo focused on the details.
Their teamwork was seamless.
Since it was a low-budget production, there wasn’t a shred of waste as the shoot progressed.
‘No wonder it became a hit.’
Lee Min Ki involuntarily shuddered.
He instinctively realized.
This film’s global success was no accident.
Directors Sim Seong Bo and Jin Joo Yeon lacked neither talent nor skill. They only lacked opportunities and funding.
In his past life, Netflix had filled the gap.
This time, Lee Min Ki supported them, and Netflix further enchanted them by adding a larger budget.
This was the resulting set.
‘Amazing. No matter how much I learn, there’s still so much more to take in.’
A set devoid of waste.
Lee Min Ki engraved every moment into his memory, determined not to miss a single detail.
Even amidst the scene, there were people who couldn’t take their eyes off Lee Min Ki.
‘Lee Min Ki isn’t called Lee Min Ki for nothing.’
The actors on set were among them.
‘He’s not just anybody.’
‘Normally, he seems so mild-mannered, but when he starts acting, he turns into a wolf.’
‘Wow, just look at that physique.’
Some of these actors had joined the project specifically because of Lee Min Ki’s name.
They wanted to learn from him.
How to create a buzz.
How to become a successful actor.
You can tell just by watching.
The more they watched, the clearer it became.
The reason why Lee Min Ki had succeeded was simple.
‘His skills are just exceptional.’
It was a matter of skill.
‘He has a perfect understanding of the scene.’
His understanding, in particular, was on another level.
Even before the directors gave instructions, he seemed to already be anticipating more than what was asked.
Even now, he was like that.
“Actor, please come over here.”
“Yes!”
Director Shim Sung Bo called for Lee Min Ki.
Then, he led him to a corner, pointed to a large tree in front of the camera, and said,
“You see the machete I gave you earlier? Can you strike the tree above with all your strength?”
The tree was as thick as a woman’s waist at least.
A single mistake, and his hand could be severely injured.
It was a role that most top stars, who value their bodies, would hesitate to take on.
But Lee Min Ki—
“Just a moment.”
Whoosh!
A sound so massive it seemed to split the air rang out.
Thwack!
With a chilling noise, the tree broke apart like a decayed log and toppled over.
Boom!
Dust billowed in the air as everyone, including Shim Sung Bo and the other actors, stood slack-jawed for a moment.
Finally regaining his composure, Shim Sung Bo muttered,
“…I told you to strike it, not to fell it.”
Ah, right.
Shim Sung Bo quickly turned to the side and asked urgently,
“Did you get that on film?”
“Yes, with the axe.”
“No, not that—did you capture it properly?”
“Oh, yes, yes!”