Director Jang Hang-jun describes the love of ten million viewers as "like being in a massive hidden camera prank," honestly sharing both joy and pressure. He explains in detail why his film 'The Man Who Lives with the King' had to follow the hearts of common people at the margins of history rather than the center of power. At the end, he revisits the legendary "interview" question "Where did you buy ET?"—neatly encapsulating Jang Hang-jun's humor and attitude.

1. How It Feels to Become a Ten-Million Director

When asked about his current mood, Director Jang says it's less definitive joy and more "surreal"—like being in the middle of "a massive hidden camera prank." He says he never once imagined this scenario, and his whole family is amazed. He recalls his daughter asking about the break-even point before release, when theater conditions were poor and worries were great.

His biggest fear now? That everything might suddenly vanish like a dream.

2. Why the Family Didn't Cry: "I've Never Cried Watching a Film"

While audiences wept, his family didn't cry watching the film—and neither has the director himself, in his entire life of watching movies. The one time he teared up during post-production was when the music and the character Heungdo's emotion combined to hit him unexpectedly. The actual tears came from watching an observational variety show about actor Bae Jeong-nam visiting the grandmother who raised him.

3. Behind 'The Man Who Lives with the King': Filling 600 Years of Missing Records with the People's Heart

The official historical record of Danjong's exile is nearly nonexistent. Instead, Director Jang drew from folk tales and local histories—legends of Yeongwol villagers secretly holding memorial rites for the deposed king, hiding the location of his grave from royal surveillance for 200-300 years. He felt as if the villagers' long-awaited sign had finally arrived 600 years later through today's audiences.

"The donkey the Yeongwol people were waiting for has come 600 years later—now."

4. "Why Did I Have to Make This?"

The most dramatic historical moments end with the coup (Gyeyujeongnan)—the spectacles audiences expect on the big screen. But Director Jang was drawn to what came after: the back of the deposed king, which nobody bothered to record. The stories of commoners and the common people were the territory he felt he could handle relatively well.

5. The Child Who Gave His Heart to the Corners

Director Jang resonates with the observation that he gives his heart to "corners, not centers." As a student, he deliberately patronized the failing stationery shop nobody else visited. His mother remembers him getting a tricycle and spending the whole day pushing his friends on it instead of riding it himself.

"I make up for gaps in skill with human warmth."

6. Directorial Leadership and the Scene That Changed Everything

As a director, Jang emphasizes creating good environments to draw out the best from everyone. The most extensively revised part of the screenplay was Heungdo's conflict line: Will he report the king to save himself, or protect the young deposed king? The scenes that mattered most to him weren't grand political moments but villagers and Heungdo eating together, laughing, teaching, building relationships.

Asked what he would have done in Heungdo's place, the director honestly admits he probably would have reported to the authorities—acknowledging that ordinary people can't easily make heroic choices when facing the threat of their entire family's execution.

7. Six Hundred Years Later: A Single Word, the Scene of Greatest Confidence, and a Message to Yoon Jong-shin

To Heungdo across 600 years, he offers gratitude: "Thank you for allowing future generations to reflect on and feel your righteousness." The scene that gave him confidence the film could work was Heungdo's conflicted expression at the crossroads between the government office and the path he came from.

His longtime friend Yoon Jong-shin joked that "if luck beyond his station arrives, he'll be ruined"—to which Jang replied: "Thanks for the warm words."

8. Work Principles: "Don't Breathe the Same Air as Villains"

His sharpest line in the interview:

"Don't share a roof or breathe the same air as villains." "No matter how exceptionally talented they are, don't work with bad people."

Work hours are part of life, so being happy matters. On whether his positive outlook is innate, he firmly says "about 70% can't be changed"—it's largely born, not taught.

9. Post-Ten-Million Pressure, a 30-Year-Old Screenplay, and "Doing It for a Long Time"

The pressure is real—even appearing on the news feels burdensome. He shares that his wife (screenwriter Kim Eun-hee) particularly loves his early screenplay 'When You Think of It While Running,' written in his twenties. His dream after retirement: writing novels, where "I can make a cloudy day bright with a single sentence."

His happiest moment: sitting in the director's chair on set at dawn, breathing morning air, looking at the scenery—feeling "I'm still alive." His ultimate goal is surprisingly simple: just doing it for a long time.

"Doing it for a long time."

10. Advice for Dreamers, and the Return of the ET Question

To those still holding onto dreams, Director Jang offers warm, realistic advice: allow yourself time to go all-in. Even 5-6 years of full commitment can open doors—and if they don't, you can always pivot. In a 100-year life, there's room.

"I believe everyone has the right to live at least one-tenth of their life as they please."

Finally, the host revives the legendary question from Director Jang's early career as a TV writer:

"Where did you buy ET?"

Why did he write such absurd interview questions? His answer captures his entire philosophy:

"To make it fun."

Wrap-Up

Throughout this interview, Director Jang Hang-jun speaks less about celebrating ten million viewers and more about the surreal feeling and pressure that follows, and the value of people and the filmmaking process he wants to protect. His film 'The Man Who Lives with the King' reached audiences so deeply precisely because it looked at history's margins rather than its center. And true to form, his conclusion stays consistent: Have fun, with good people, for a very long time.