The production company for Restaurant Promo is ‘Studio Root.’
It seems they were in quite a rush as well, because the meeting was set up incredibly quickly.
Is this the power of cost-effectiveness?
In my situation, I am absolutely the top priority here.
The per-episode guarantee I will receive for appearing in this drama is 9 million won.
Considering that male actors generally earn more than female actors at the same level, it’s a rather awkward amount.
Most male actors who could play leading roles usually earn at least 20 million won per episode.
On the other hand, cheaper actors are all unknowns, making it risky to cast them outright as leads.
This is what I mean when I say my cost-effectiveness is unmatched.
Through two works, I’ve been somewhat validated, and I don’t fall too far behind even Heavenly Yuah, who has a keen eye for top stars.
Especially since I could be cast for the ambiguous sum of 9 million won when I’ve got decent visuals too.
Besides, the action I showcased in Gold Rush, Joseon wasn’t all I had to offer.
The heartfelt romance scenes with Wolhee captured the hearts of quite a few fans.
For comparison with other dramas, considering that roles heavy on action usually receive offers in the range of 15 to 20 million won, hiring me at this level was rather stingy.
Would I have refused if this wasn’t the kind of drama that appealed to my father’s taste?
Especially since this 9 million won amount is rather pitiful. The difference between 9 million and 10 million won is just 1 million, but that small gap carries significant meaning.
When calculating the guarantee for the next project, there’s a world of difference between having received 10 million versus something in the 1 million range previously.
In this sense, it would have been a better deal for the production team to round it up to 10 million won, but they couldn’t, which signifies that the production budget for this drama is abysmally low.
Given the situation, they were likely searching for other actors without even waiting for my approval.
For this reason, the PD and the writer both welcomed me with great enthusiasm.
PD Kim Soo-myeong of Studio Root promised to consider many factors carefully during filming, and Writer Oh Kyuyoung assured me of a strong presence that wouldn’t be overshadowed by the two female leads.
It was compensation for my financial loss within the production.
It wasn’t exactly a bad deal though.
Since the loss was already decided, they were offering some form of compensation.
During all this, I still wasn’t told much about the overall flow of the script.
That’s because Writer Oh Kyuyoung only writes the script after actors have been cast, considering the actors’ images.
While they do have a broad story outline, the details progress more spontaneously, he explained.
Now that the three main actors were finalized, the writer was ready to dive into the production, and I had no objections, being familiar with veteran writers’ processes.
“Is there anything special about you?”
“Something special?”
“Yes, like the seven-stringed zither that Lee Myung showed, for instance.”
They conducted an interview to help solidify the character’s traits, asking if I had any special skills, such as the seven-string zither performance showcased by Lee Myung.
After pondering for a moment, I told the writer that I was good with knives, including some impressive skills with Chinese cleavers.
“I use knives.”
“Oh, knives? So you enjoy cooking?”
“It’s not that I enjoy it, but I do handle knives well. Especially Chinese cleavers—though I doubt they’ll have much meaning in this drama.”
“Chinese cleavers? Those square ones.”
“Wow, Actor Baek has an interesting talent. Are they not the big ones?”
“They come in both big and small.”
“Can you handle the big ones?”
“Yes, no problem.”
Though it might seem odd for a French chef to talk about Chinese cleavers, the writer and the PD both listened intently.
Then, out of curiosity, they instructed the staff at the broadcasting station’s prop room to bring a square knife that resembles a Chinese cleaver.
Of course, since it was a prop, it wasn’t sharp, but it was heavy, made of iron.
“Oh….”
“What on earth…”
But then again, it wasn’t a challenge for me, and I skillfully demonstrated my knife tricks with two Chinese cleavers.
I spun them in the air, juggling them impressively, and the reactions were quite enthusiastic.
However, could they actually use this in the drama?
Though it seemed to leave a good impression on the writer and the PD, it likely had no real significance.
“Is your memory good? We’ll be using a lot of script revisions.”
“Oh, mine is not bad.”
Afterwards, they asked rather ordinary questions.
Given the production, there would be a lot of revisions to the script, so they wanted to know if I could handle it.
While it’s not typical that they have to ask something like this, if they’re asking, it seems revisions will be frequent.
With actors needing to gather before the writers can finish their work, it’s understandable that revisions occur often.
I already miss Gold Rush, Joseon because it was all pre-produced, and there were no such last-minute script changes.
This is why actors often prefer movies or OTT originals over dramas.
Still, my memory is decent, and I can handle revisions, so I agreed, even if it’s funny to lose a role over such matters.
I don’t know how many revisions I’ll receive, but I’ll have to adapt since this is the norm here.
“I wonder if the supporting cast has been properly secured. The production budget seems tight.”
Frankly, the supporting cast is more concerning.
Since the scale doesn’t promise much, I just hope they’ve chosen decent actors.
The casting is still ongoing, so I’ll have to wait for the table reads or filming to see.
After the hastily arranged meeting, I returned to the company.
After cleaning up and heading to the break room, I found Nam Hyun-ho slumped over, waiting for me.
How’d his casting turn out?
Did he decide not to accept the role?
“What’s made you so slumped?”
“Oh, you’re here. The meeting?”
“Yes.”
“Was it alright?”
“Just fine. And you? What’s the decision on that movie?”
“Hmm… it’ll probably happen.”
Though he looked tired, the atmosphere wasn’t bad.
It seems a decision was made regarding the movie.
But what does he mean by “probably”?
“Wait, are you going to film it?”
“Yes, the movie’s interesting, so it’s worth shooting.”
“What? You’re going with this?”
“Well, the director had some issues… let’s just say their sexual preferences seem a bit off.”
“Yeah? So?”
“So I found additional investors and contacted the production company. All I care about is the script so, replacing the director is fine.”
“Wait, is that even possible?”
“Yeah, it turned out to be.”
Thankfully, it wasn’t the director’s own written script.
In movies, it’s common for the director to pen the script themselves.
But in this case, the script was sourced separately by the production company.
Since what Nam Hyun-ho liked was the script, replacing the director wasn’t a problem.
There might still be some complications, but judging by his attitude, things seem resolved.
In that case, the result remains unpredictable.
Still, it looks like the problematic parts have been eliminated.
Nam Hyun-ho is quite passionate; he’s decided to film it even after changing the director—a remarkable commitment.
It hints at his background since he managed to secure separate investors, indicating the script must have genuinely impressed him.
“I get it with you, but what about others?”
“Huh?”
“Yu-a and Su-yeon. They suggested doing a movie with me, but I’ve taken another project.”
“Ah, that’s happened too?”
“Yes. Looks like our madness is getting popular.”
Indeed.
Though Nam Hyun-ho seems set to finalize his next project in the movie, Heavenly Yuah and Moon Suyeon have been strangely quiet.
I asked the PD discreetly if they’d approached other opportunities.
After all, subterfuge and strategy are common in showbiz, and I was wary of any hidden schemes by Heavenly Yuah.
But nothing suspicious came to light.
If the PD was lying, he should’ve been in acting, not directing.
“Oh, by the way…”
“Yes?”
“Seems like Heavenly Yuah has found the next project—a drama.”
“Ah, a drama?”
“And Moon Suyeon…”
“Su-yeon?”
“You know, our resident writer Yang.”
“Yes?”
“It seems she’s working with Writer Yang on something.”
“Really?”
Having left a cryptic comment, Heavenly Yuah has recently neglected her early morning exercises and is plotting something.
Moon Suyeon seems similarly involved in something secretive.
Despite the short time frame, it’s enough to make me suspicious.
However, based on Nam Hyun-ho’s information, it seems like it’s more about their next projects.
They’ve likely set aside thoughts of Hollywood action blockbusters or scandalous projects like Assamagui.*
“Assamagui aside, Yu-a’s action movie might be decent, but since this is a drama, it looks like she passed on that.”
The idea of Heavenly Yuah venturing into Hollywood has been a long-standing and ongoing rumor.
Though Cannes and Hollywood exude different vibes, since a best actress win from Cannes can’t be ignored in Hollywood, her potential is strong.
And as a blonde beauty with American citizenship, not going full-throttle would be abnormal.
Of course, in today’s world, Hollywood isn’t necessarily the ultimate goal for actors, but it remains where most money flows.
Worldwide box-office hits still reel in profits exceeding trillions.
Though such earnings barely impact actors directly, leaving a legacy on such blockbusters is still a proud achievement for them.
“So, it seems this time, Heavenly Yuah has no plans to go to Hollywood, huh?”
Even if she goes alone without me, it wouldn’t be a bad turn of events.
National pride aside, since she’s American, it wouldn’t matter much personally.
Given this isn’t about money for me.
“It truly seems there’s no reason for Heavenly Yuah to go.”
Despite repeated contemplation, it feels unlikely that Heavenly Yuah will fly solo to Hollywood and dominate.
So, I should investigate which project she might be preparing to join.
For some reason, I feel an underlying unease.
