When Backdrops Were Just Backdrops
Once upon a post-war time in the 1950s, Korean production design was all about functionality. Think plain backgrounds serving as placeholders rather than portals to a story’s universe.
Sad Story of a Head Cutter (1955)
But as Korea rebounded from the Korean War, production design, too, found its footing—albeit slowly.
It wasn’t until the economic boom of the 1980s that things began to take shape. Budget increases and creative freedom allowed for production design to evolve from mere wallpaper to an active storytelling element. And oh, what a glow-up it was.
Deep Blue Night (1985)
Cue the New Wave
Then came the 2000s, and with it, the Korean New Wave. This wasn’t just a ripple; it was a full-blown tsunami of creativity, led by visionary directors like Park Chan-wook (Oldboy) and Bong Joon-ho (Memories of Murder). Fun fact: the unforgettable sets of these masterpieces? Designed by NSN. (Yes, we’ll humbly take a bow.)
Memories of Murder (2003)
Suddenly, production design wasn’t just there to look pretty—it had a voice, a mood, a vibe. It shaped symbolism, deepened character dynamics, and left audiences staring at the screen long after the credits rolled.
Fast-forward to today, and thanks to Hallyu—the global Korean Wave—production design has reached new levels of jaw-dropping artistry. From the marbles game set to the giant piggy bank in Squid Game, Korean sets have become their own characters, leaving us wondering, “How much did that cost?”
Giant piggy bank in the Squid Game
A Shift in the Entertainment Universe
Once upon a simpler time, movie-watching was a social event. You either lined up for tickets at the local theater or hung out at your friend’s house (you know, the one with the DVD player and an endless Star Wars collection). But then came the late 2000s, and with it, streaming platforms that flipped the industry upside-down.
Suddenly, watching films wasn’t an occasion—it was a daily ritual. Subscribing to multiple platforms to binge both Disney classics and Netflix originals became the norm.
Naturally, one might think this content craze led to bigger budgets for production designers. Plot twist: it didn’t. Sure, the big players got the goldmine, but smaller productions? They got the shaft.
The increased demand for content led to tighter budgets and even tighter timelines. Production designers often had to juggle multiple projects at once, resulting in, shall we say, “mixed” outcomes. As George Orwell so aptly put it in Animal Farm, “All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others.” And in this industry, “some animals” get the budget for a glass bridge, while others make do with… a glass coffee table.
The Movies vs. Series Debate
Are you Team Movie or Team Series? In Korea, the debate—long dominated by movies—is finally evening out. For decades, movies were hailed as high art, while series (or “dramas” in Asia) were seen as commercial fluff. This led many directors and production designers to stick strictly to films, leaving series in the hands of less experienced teams.
However, the situation has now changed. With the emergence of series boasting movie-like quality, such as Squid Game or The Frog, the status of dramas has undergone a significant transformation. Today, even veteran filmmakers are swapping silver screens for streaming platforms, creating immersive worlds for the next Game of Thrones. The once-stark line between movies and series is now beautifully blurred, and we’re here for it.
The Frog (2024)
What’s Next?
As Korea continues to dominate global screens, production design will remain at the heart of its storytelling magic. Whether it’s a gritty thriller, a sweeping historical epic, or a mind-bending dystopia, one thing’s for sure: Korean production designers will keep us glued to our screens and saying, “How did they do that?”
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