novelburst
Chapter 450
Chapter 450
Chapter 450: Speed ??of Light (2)
Translator: NovelBin
Woo-jin as the Beast—or rather, Woo-jin the “Diver”—stood in a head-to-toe skintight bodysuit during the first shoot of *Beauty and the Beast*. The reason was simple.
‘Damn it! Even though it’s for CGI, how is anyone supposed to stay in character wearing something like this?’
Like his inner complaint, the bulk of the Beast's appearance would be generated through special effects, meaning Woo-jin had to wear this suit for most of the scenes. Only a few shots throughout the schedule would allow him to appear fully made up as the Beast. For the rest, he’d be in this bodysuit.
‘Hey! Behind-the-scenes team! Don’t film me in this!’
His gray, dotted, tight-fitting suit might look ridiculous, but it was essential for the CGI. There was even padding inside to bulk him up to Beast’s size, making it both uncomfortable and laughable, but there was no choice if the final product was to be as perfect as they intended.
Woo-jin had mentally prepared himself for this situation.
He’d tried on this special outfit in advance and had spent time in a strange booth fitted with cameras in all directions, capturing his every movement and expression to achieve a near-perfect Beast in CGI. When the simulation ran, it was astonishing—his facial expressions and subtle motions appeared on the CGI Beast on the monitor, following his every move with precision.
For this level of realism, Woo-jin would need to act through more than half of *Beauty and the Beast*—perhaps even more—in the bodysuit. Although it didn’t suit his usual style, he was willing to bear the indignity for the sake of his performance.
‘I didn’t expect Cara to laugh that hard, though. Well…’
Foreign crew members rushed into the set to reset after the NG. Woo-jin awkwardly descended from the central staircase.
Meanwhile, Cara, playing Bella, tried desperately to suppress her laughter as she looked at Woo-jin in his ridiculous suit.
“Are you planning to keep laughing?” he asked, trying to maintain a stern expression but internally pleading, ‘Please, stop laughing!’
Wiping her eyes, Cara apologized. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. It’s not like this is my first time seeing the outfit, but seeing you in it just cracks me up.”
“Then laugh it all out now and get used to it. You’ll need to adjust to this ‘funny’ look.”
Cara smiled, shaking her head. “It’s not funny, though. It’s… cute.”
Cute? Woo-jin was perplexed. What on earth was cute about this outfit? Did she have unusual tastes? Her comment reminded him of something his mother used to say.
‘Woo-jin, people and animals alike—the cutest ones are the winners. Once something becomes cute, it’s over.’
At that moment, Bill Roettner, the director, approached with a smirk, seemingly amused by the sight of Woo-jin.
“Starting on a lighthearted note isn’t so bad,” he said. “And thankfully, the outfit suits you well.”
Woo-jin glanced at him with a straight face, refraining from any response other than thinking, ‘Is this foreign grandpa making fun of me?’ But Bill Roettner soon adopted a serious tone, addressing both actors.
“The shot was amazing until the NG. Let’s reset and try it again with focus.”
“Yes, Director.”
“Understood.”
With a quick acknowledgment, both actors returned to their positions. Watching Woo-jin in his silly bodysuit, Roettner muttered as he returned to his seat among the monitors and key crew members.
“How deeply has that actor studied his role as the Beast?”
He whispered in admiration. Although the scene was NG, the mere presence of the two actors had been striking. Especially the Beast’s first appearance—it was powerful and impactful, at least in Roettner’s eyes. Other crew members shared his sentiment.
“His look may be strange, but the way he delivered his lines and every movement felt like the Beast.”
“Exactly. Did you notice his walk? He lifted his heels as he walked, giving an imposing yet confident stride. He must have studied the Beast’s characteristic steps.”
“From facial expressions to movements in his shoulders, arms, and hands—he seems to have crafted his entire body language to fit the Beast. His attention to detail is impressive.”
Roettner folded his arms and nodded.
“Just because the performance will be layered with CGI doesn’t mean the acting can be half-hearted. Quite the opposite—the more intense the performance, the less artificial it will look. Woo-jin doesn’t leave any room for concern.”
Roettner chuckled in satisfaction.
“It’s amazing how he embodies the Beast even in that silly suit.”
---
The next morning, around 9 a.m.
On the outskirts of downtown LA, a modest eight-story building housed a small film company, *A8 Media.* Though technically a “small” company, it was really a startup just getting off the ground.
Inside, it was a tight space with around ten employees. Some film posters of their previous productions lined the office walls, proof of a few modestly successful projects. In a meeting room, five foreigners sat in discussion.
Three men in suits, across from a woman in her mid-40s with a short brown bob and a younger, freckle-faced man. Transparent files and tablets were spread out in front of them.
“All right. Understood,” the suited men said as they stood up, signaling the end of the conversation.
“We’ll get back to you after reviewing.”
The woman shook hands with each of the three men, saying, “Thank you.”
After leaving the meeting room, the man with a larger build among the three laughed bitterly as they entered the elevator.
“Well, I thought there might be some connection to Woo-jin since they were remaking his debut movie, but it turns out he’s not involved at all.”
“Exactly. I was hoping they might mention something about casting him, but it was a wasted trip.”
“Not only is he uninvolved, but he’s reportedly booked solid until the year after next, working with the likes of Columbia, Disney, and Universal.”
As the elevator doors opened, another of the men commented, “As powerful as Woo-jin is in Hollywood now, he wouldn’t waste his time on a small production, even if it’s related to his past work.”
Meanwhile, back in the meeting room at *A8 Media*, the woman with the brown bob and the freckled man remained seated, the atmosphere tense.
“…”
“…”
The freckled man finally broke the silence. “It’ll be hard to secure funding, won’t it?”
Their recent meeting had been a pitch for investment, a vital lifeline for the film’s production. But from their downcast expressions, it was clear the pitch hadn’t gone well. The woman sighed deeply.
“It’s just not easy.”
“But they did say they’d be in touch, so maybe—”
“Don’t count on it. We probably won’t hear from them again.”
The freckled man, looking concerned, addressed her. “Ma’am…”
The woman, Jennifer Thurman, was the CEO of *A8 Media,* but in the vast world of Hollywood, she was barely more than the owner of a hole-in-the-wall operation. Once a promising director from Universal, she’d left to start her own studio, and her first film had done well. But her second had flopped, pushing the company toward bankruptcy.
Leaning back in her chair, Jennifer looked at the stack of papers on her desk. Two scripts caught her eye—one titled *Guest,* the other *The Detective Agency.*
*The Detective Agency*—Woo-jin’s film debut. Jennifer had first seen the short film at Korea’s Mise-en-scène Film Festival, and it had made a lasting impression. She had bought the remake rights, adapting it into a full-length Hollywood film titled *Guest.*
But now, *Guest* had been stuck in development hell for over a year.
*Sigh… Things have gotten so tangled.*
Though they had initially started pre-production, the project had come to a halt. With Woo-jin’s recent Hollywood success, she’d hoped interest would pick up again, but funding remained elusive.
*Everyone’s only interested in Woo-jin, not the film itself.*
To Hollywood investors, *Guest* was just another script from an indie studio. Without Woo-jin attached, it was just another low-budget horror screenplay that would likely be dismissed.
The freckled man spoke up cautiously. “Ma’am, maybe we should look at other scripts besides *Guest.* We’ve had other promising stories on hand for a while now.”
“You’re right. This was my stubbornness talking,” she admitted. She’d held onto *Guest* for over a year because she genuinely believed in its potential to reinvent horror.
*Though maybe it’s just wishful thinking.*
With a sigh, Jennifer stood up, brushing her hair aside.
“Let’s keep looking for investors while we evaluate other scripts. We can’t keep going like this.”
Seeing her distress, the freckled man hesitated before making a suggestion. “Ma’am, I know you were against it, but maybe we should try sending the *Guest* script to Woo-jin. Since it’s a remake of his debut, he might show interest.”
“I rejected that idea for one reason—because it’s unlikely he’d care. He’s already working with the Big Five studios, and he’s reportedly booked until the year after next.”
“But still…”
“And on top of that, it would feel like we’re begging him. We may be desperate, but we don’t want to inconvenience him.”
The freckled man fell silent, while Jennifer’s gaze lingered on the *Guest* script. Her
face betrayed a hint of sadness.
“Maybe I should just let this project stay as a memory.”
---
Two days later, on September 4th.
Inside a van speeding down the road, Woo-jin sat with his manager Choi Sung-geon and a few team members. They were headed to *SPT Studios* for another shoot of *Beauty and the Beast.* It had been four days since Woo-jin started alternating between *Beauty and the Beast* and *Piero: Birth of a Villain.*
Woo-jin was reading a script in his hands, with the title *Guest* emblazoned on the cover.
He asked in a low voice, “This is the Hollywood remake of *The Detective Agency,* right?”
Sung-geon replied, “That’s right. Remember? I told you about it a while back—how they’d bought the rights to remake your debut short film.”
“Yes, I remember.”
“This is that script. But no pressure to actually go over it. Just read it whenever you have time. It’s just to satisfy your curiosity.”
“And Director Shin Dong-chun sent this?”
“Yeah. Director Shin said it was only out of courtesy, no other expectations.”
Nodding, Woo-jin looked back at the script, noticing a swirling black rectangle in his *inventory space.*
Checking his *inventory,* Woo-jin found the recently added item.
-[14/Script (Title: Guest), Grade: S]
-[*This is a highly refined movie script. 100% reading comprehension possible.]
“Wow, an S-grade? That’s pretty impressive,” he murmured, surprised by the high rating.
He debated, ‘Since it’s an S-grade, it seems a waste to let it go, especially since it’s the remake of my first film. But, realistically, I can’t do it.’
With his packed schedule, there was no way he could take on another project.
Still, he mused, *It’s a shame to let an S-grade script just sit.*
He snapped back to reality as Sung-geon continued talking.
“Look, it’s sad, but let’s be real. Hollywood has thousands of scripts that never see the light of day. Just read it for fun if you want.”
Woo-jin turned to Sung-geon, a thoughtful look on his face. “Why don’t you consider investing in *Guest* yourself?”