The Institutionalized Exploitation of the Grade System
At the heart of the actors’ grievances was a rigid financial structure known as the "child actor grade system." According to Kang Rae Yeon, the industry during her youth did not treat child actors with the professional respect or financial incentives seen in the modern era. Instead, pay was dictated by an arbitrary grading scale that suppressed earnings regardless of a child’s individual popularity or the commercial success of the project.
Heo Jeong Min elaborated on this hierarchy, explaining that the system ranked young performers on a scale from 1 to 5. Grade 5 represented the most successful or established child actors, while Grade 1 was reserved for those with the least experience or public recognition. Despite these classifications, even the top-tier Grade 5 actors were paid a fraction of what their adult counterparts earned. Kang Rae Yeon recalled that the maximum payment for a child actor at the time was approximately 250,000 KRW per episode (roughly $167 USD).
When adjusted for inflation and compared to the multi-million won per-episode fees commanded by modern child stars today, the disparity is staggering. This system ensured that the production companies and broadcasting stations could maximize their margins by utilizing high-draw child talent at a fixed, low cost. The lack of a competitive market for minor talent meant that parents and child actors had little to no leverage in contract negotiations.
Grueling Production Schedules and the "Dissolve" Phenomenon
The actors also detailed the physical toll of the industry’s unregulated working hours. During the era in which they worked, labor laws specifically protecting minors in the workplace were virtually non-existent in South Korea. This led to what Kang Rae Yeon described as the "dissolve" culture—a term referring to the seamless blending of day and night shoots without breaks.
The production cycle often involved filming night scenes immediately following sunset, continuing through the early hours of the morning, and transitioning directly into daytime scenes as soon as the sun rose. Heo Jeong Min emphasized that these grueling schedules took a significant toll not only on the children but also on their families. "Our parents went through a lot," he noted, highlighting the secondary layer of exhaustion faced by the guardians who were required to stay on set for days at a time to supervise their children in hazardous, sleep-deprived conditions.
In the modern context, such practices would be illegal under current South Korean labor laws, which now mandate strict limits on the working hours of child performers based on their age. However, for Heo, Kang, and Seo, these conditions were the industry standard, accepted as the price of entry for a career in television.
Physical Discipline and Coercion on Set
Perhaps the most disturbing aspect of the testimony involved the admission of routine physical violence used as a directorial tool. Seo Jae Kyung shocked viewers by revealing that mistakes on set were often met with corporal punishment rather than constructive feedback. "When we made mistakes, we weren’t just lightly tapped—we were hit so hard we sometimes bled," he stated.
Kang Rae Yeon further explained the psychological and physical coercion used to elicit emotional performances. She noted that if a child actor was unable to produce tears for a crying scene, directors or staff members would resort to physical battery to induce the necessary emotional state. "If we couldn’t cry for a crying scene, they’d hit us to make us cry," she said, adding that such behavior would be "unthinkable" in the contemporary industry.
While Seo Jae Kyung was careful to mention that these abusive directors were a minority and that many good people worked in the industry, he emphasized that the overall atmosphere of a set was often dictated by these few influential individuals. The power dynamic of the era allowed directors to exercise absolute authority, often with the tacit approval of parents who felt they had to remain silent to protect their child’s career prospects.
Systemic Corruption and the Culture of Bribes
The financial exploitation extended beyond the official payroll. The actors described a culture of pervasive corruption where "under-the-table" payments were necessary to secure roles or advance within the grade system. Seo Jae Kyung lamented the financial ruin caused by these practices, noting that people in charge frequently accepted bribes in the form of expensive meals, alcoholic beverages, and luxury gifts.
"Looking back now, they accepted money through drinks, food, gifts—but all I have left now is debt," Seo revealed. This suggests that for many families, the cost of maintaining a child’s acting career far outweighed the meager earnings provided by the broadcasting stations.
Heo Jeong Min corroborated this by exposing the specific practice of mothers offering bribes to industry officials in exchange for "raising" their child’s actor grade. This pay-to-play environment created a toxic cycle where only families with significant financial resources—or those willing to go into debt—could hope to see their children succeed. It also highlights the lack of transparency in the casting and promotion processes that defined the industry for decades.
Historical Context: The Pre-Reform Era of South Korean Media
The experiences shared by Heo, Kang, and Seo must be viewed through the lens of South Korea’s rapid media expansion during the 1980s and 90s. During this period, the industry was focused on rapid growth and global competitiveness, often at the expense of human rights and labor standards. The three major broadcasting networks (KBS, MBC, and SBS) held a virtual monopoly on talent and production, giving them immense power over the workforce.
It was not until the mid-2010s that the South Korean government began to implement significant legislative changes to protect child performers. The "Popular Culture and Arts Industry Development Act," often referred to as the "Cinderella Law," was a landmark piece of legislation designed to prevent the very abuses described by the actors. This law established maximum working hours (ranging from 35 to 40 hours per week depending on age), mandated the protection of a child’s right to education and sleep, and prohibited the use of "obscene acts or excessive exposure."
Broader Implications and the Path to Reform
The public reaction to the B-Level Studio video has been one of collective shock and calls for further reflection on the industry’s history. While the current environment is significantly more regulated, the testimonies of former child actors serve as a reminder of the trauma embedded in the foundations of the Hallyu wave.
Industry analysts suggest that these revelations may prompt more former child stars to come forward, potentially leading to a broader "Me Too" style movement within the acting community regarding historical labor abuses. Furthermore, the mention of "debt" and financial ruin by Seo Jae Kyung highlights the need for better financial literacy and protection for child stars, ensuring that their earnings are managed ethically and are accessible to them upon reaching adulthood.
The shift from a "grade-based" payment system to a market-driven one has undoubtedly improved the earning potential for today’s top child talent. However, the corruption described by Heo Jeong Min regarding bribes and favoritism remains a point of concern for smaller productions or less-regulated sectors of the entertainment industry.
Conclusion: A Legacy of Resilience
Despite the hardships, Heo Jeong Min, Kang Rae Yeon, and Seo Jae Kyung have maintained careers in the public eye, transitioning from the "dark ages" of child acting into the modern, globalized era of Korean content. Their willingness to speak out serves a dual purpose: it validates the experiences of their peers who suffered in silence and provides a benchmark for how far the industry has come.
As South Korea continues to dominate the global cultural landscape, the stories of its earliest performers provide a necessary reality check. The glamour of the screen was often built on a foundation of systemic neglect and physical hardship. By exposing these past "working conditions and corruption," these three actors have contributed to a vital dialogue on the importance of protecting the most vulnerable members of the entertainment industry, ensuring that the mistakes of the past are never repeated in the pursuit of artistic success.
