Chapter 446
Chapter 446
Chapter 446: Villain (3)
Translator: NovelBin
"Confidence?" The bald executive from Columbia Studios narrowed his eyes at the director's resolute answer. The other executives exchanged murmurs, but Director Ahn Ga-bok’s expression remained unwavering.
“…”
He simply looked at the bald executive with a seasoned expression. Just then, the stern-faced producer, Nora Foster, glanced at him in surprise as the bald executive, who had been rubbing his head, asked in a calm tone of English.
“You're aiming for the Academy Awards. While I admire your confidence, Director, isn’t this timing impossible?”
Other executives chimed in.
“I agree. If we’re estimating a wrap-up for *Piero: Birth of a Villain* around September... it's beyond just difficult.”
“Right, not just hard—impossible.”
“Director, you’re aware of this, aren’t you?”
Nora remained silent, observing for now, while the bald executive crossed his legs and spoke again.
“If this is just an expression of your confidence, I understand. But if you’re seriously thinking about this year’s Academy Awards, please make your intentions clear.”
All eyes in the conference room turned to Director Ahn Ga-bok. He glanced briefly at Nora before turning his head toward the bald executive who had spoken.
“I understand that, realistically, it’s almost impossible for *Piero: Birth of a Villain* to make it to this year’s Academy Awards. But there is one way.”
“One way?”
“There’s only one,” Ahn replied, and the bald executive’s brows furrowed as if a thought had just struck him.
“Director, you’re not suggesting…”
“I think you’re on the right track,” Ahn said, exhaling lightly before continuing in a low voice.
“As you know, *Piero: Birth of a Villain* is set to wrap in September, possibly a bit earlier thanks to the dedication of the actors. And this year’s Academy Awards are in April of next year.”
For context, the prestigious Academy Awards—or Oscars—typically maintain a similar schedule but may vary occasionally. This year, the selection process covers films released from February of the current year to February of the next year, with nominations, assessments, and announcements all completed by early April.
The process is complex.
Nominees and eligible films are selected and reviewed by thousands of Academy members spread across the world, functioning as a massive panel of judges. These members come from various fields, including directing, acting, production, and key technical staff.
The grand awards ceremony typically takes place between mid to late April.
The issue is meeting the entry criteria for the Academy Awards. Among several requirements, the fundamental one is that the film must have a public release of at least one week in theaters in Los Angeles. Failing to meet this would mean not qualifying, which was precisely the issue the executives considered impossible.
Director Ahn was well aware of this.
“To qualify, we would need to release the film in LA by February, meaning editing has to be complete by January. It’s not impossible. *Leech* had an even tighter schedule.”
Though the systems in Korea and Hollywood are different, completing the editing by January was feasible if the director committed fully. But the real challenge wasn’t just that; Nora intervened.
“Director, even if editing is completed by January and we manage a February release, setting a worldwide release schedule within a month is, frankly, impossible.”
“…”
“As you know, *Piero: Birth of a Villain* is planned for release in about 40 countries, including the U.S., Korea, and Japan. Just the marketing and distribution work across all these countries would take several months. This isn’t something you can overcome by sheer willpower.”
She was right. Releasing a film in 40 countries simultaneously is a colossal undertaking, especially within a narrow timeframe. Planning for a simultaneous global release would take at least three to six months. Hence, the Columbia executives and Nora had deemed it impossible.
The reality of such an undertaking is massive.
The executives nodded, indicating they were on the same page. But for some reason, Director Ahn Ga-bok’s calm expression didn’t change. With a slight smile, he broke the silence.
“What if we release it in the U.S. first, specifically in LA?”
“A limited U.S. release?”
“Yes. With minimal marketing, if we release it for two or three weeks in the U.S. by the end of February, we’ll meet the Academy’s one-week release requirement.”
He proposed a strategic, phased release, prioritizing the Academy’s qualification requirements with an initial U.S. release in LA, and delaying the global release. Director Ahn Ga-bok’s voice grew firmer as he spoke.
“*Piero: Birth of a Villain* already has significant buzz thanks to Kang Woo-jin. So, a slight reduction in the marketing period won’t pose a major issue.”
“Pushing this hard just to—”
“If *Piero: Birth of a Villain* achieves any success at the Academy Awards, the publicity payoff will be explosive, far beyond what we’re investing.”
Nora, her face serious, fell silent, understanding his point. Due to Woo-jin’s influence, the film already had high visibility. Even without a significant promotional push, it could still be a hit.
‘If, just if, *Piero: Birth of a Villain* manages to make an impact at the Academy Awards... the response could be beyond imagination.’
After all, it was the Academy Awards, the pinnacle for filmmakers worldwide, and Kang Woo-jin was the lead. If this plan worked, it could birth a legendary masterpiece. Nora swallowed hard, summarizing his plan.
“So, your proposal is… wrap up production by September, begin editing immediately, finish by January, do a short promotional push, release in the U.S. for two to three weeks in February to meet the Academy requirements, then proceed with a worldwide release after. Is that correct?”
“Exactly.”
It sounded utterly daunting. Nora spoke with a hint of disbelief.
“It’s a schedule from hell. One misstep and it’s all over.”
“I’m aware. But as I mentioned, *Leech* had an even tighter schedule, and I’m confident. If we fail, we’ll just have to accept that this year’s Academy Awards aren’t meant for us.”
“Hmm.”
“We’ll need the full support of our entire crew, and, of course, it’ll mean spending more money.”
Several executives frowned and immediately interjected. The biggest obstacle was funding.
“Money? You’re asking for more money on top of this?”
Funding was the main issue, along with other concerns.
“All of this hinges on perfect execution. If this plan fails, the losses will be astronomical. Even if we get nominated, a loss at the Academy Awards could severely impact global releases and damage our reputation.”
Legitimate concerns arose. Ahn’s plan would only succeed under ideal circumstances, so the Hollywood executives’ practical concerns were expected. Why take an unpaved road when a paved one was available?
Ahn Ga-bok nodded, indicating he understood.
“I proposed this because I’m confident. But, of course, the final decision is up to you.”
After nearly an hour of intense discussion, the meeting adjourned—well, not entirely. Hollywood’s adherence to structure, the additional funding, and *Piero: Birth of a Villain*’s future at stake meant the decision wouldn’t come quickly.
‘Well, I didn’t expect immediate agreement, but it’s better to try than to regret not doing so.’
With that, Director Ahn left, and the executives resumed their discussions. For Ahn Ga-bok, even getting this much reaction from Columbia Studios was a significant victory.
“Now, we just have to wait and see.”
Truthfully, Director Ahn expected them to decline. With their heavy investment in building a cinematic universe, taking an uncharted path was risky. But his instincts, honed over years in the industry, drove him to make the suggestion.
And perhaps…
‘With Kang Woo-jin involved, the outcome could be different.’
Woo-jin’s uncanny ability to create unexpected results must be vividly remembered by the executives. The outcome wouldn’t be known for a day or two, and Ahn returned to the bustling set, where hundreds of foreign staff were busy preparing for the next scenes.
Kang Woo-jin and Chris Hartnett were deep in conversation about a shot composition nearby. Recently, the number of scenes featuring the two of them together had increased, and Director Ahn made his way toward them.
Upon sensing him approach, both actors turned to greet him. Ahn spoke quietly to Woo-jin in Korean.
“Woo-jin, do you think going for this year’s Academy Awards is too much? Would waiting for the following year be better?”
The question was sudden, but Woo-jin’s expression, always a poker face, showed no reaction, though he was internally taken aback.
‘What’s he talking about? The Academy Awards?’
Woo-jin quickly calculated. Frankly, he’d always preferred to take things head-on rather than delay—an approach he’d upheld since childhood. He figured it was best to tackle challenges sooner rather than later.
‘I’ve been talking about the Academy Awards all along, so let’s go with the fast track.’
It could fail. But if it did, that would be dealt with when the time came. With this straightforward mindset, Woo-jin spoke firmly.
“I have no plans for the following year.”
Director Ahn misunderstood completely.
“I see. You’re confident you’ll win, no matter the year, right?”
Actually, no—I just want to do this quickly. Detecting a hint of misunderstanding, Woo-jin kept silent.
“…”
Director Ahn chuckled and continued.
“Could you share your thoughts with Columbia Studios?”
Chris, who didn’t understand Korean, looked puzzled, while Woo-jin responded calmly.
“Certainly.”
A few days later
, on Wednesday, the 17th, at SPT Studios in LA.
At the entrance to the massive 50,000-square-meter set, buses, trucks, and countless other vehicles crowded the area. Hundreds of Disney Pictures employees and *Beauty and the Beast* staff bustled around.
Inside the set, amidst the towering trees surrounding a grand castle…
“Ugh—this outfit is uncomfortable as hell.”
There stood Kang Woo-jin, dressed in an elegant outfit with a mix of white and gold, his hair dyed a light brown and neatly swept back. He looked every bit like a noble character from a fantasy.
Outwardly composed, Woo-jin felt intensely awkward. Around him, a hundred staff members watched, cameras clicking, and various equipment surrounded the scene. Director Bill Roettner took charge of the directing.
“Cut! Woo-jin, could you adjust your posture? Make it a bit more arrogant and imposing.”
“Yes, Director.”
The team was shooting the first promotional poster for *Beauty and the Beast*, starting with Woo-jin. Other cast members were also waiting in their trailers, preparing for their turn.
Only one person wasn’t in costume yet.
‘He really pulls it off—dressed like that, he has a completely different aura from that clown character.’
Miley Cara, still without makeup, observed from among the crew with a slight smile. At that moment, the director called out to Woo-jin.
“Okay! Time for the Beast transformation!”
The moment for Woo-jin’s first transformation into the Beast had arrived.