In late June I flew to Seoul for the sixth K-Musical International Market, five days at COEX run by the Korea Arts Management Service under the Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism. Forty-one works were pitched and showcased to overseas producers, venues and investors. I was there as an invited overseas expert, speaking in the forum programme on how Korean productions reach international stages. I came home with a suitcase of scripts, a phone full of KakaoTalk contacts, and one settled conclusion.
Korean musicals have stopped asking permission.
The gear change
Look at the last three seasons rather than the last ten years. Marie Curie played an English-language premiere at Charing Cross Theatre in 2024. The Great Gatsby, with a Korean lead producer, ran at the London Coliseum in 2025 after opening on Broadway. Maybe Happy Ending, a musical developed in Seoul, took six Tony Awards in 2025 including Best Musical. This spring The Last Man arrived at Southwark Playhouse as a UK premiere self-produced from Seoul, and in November NERO opens at the same address as Seensee Company’s London producing debut.
That is not a trend piece. That is a pipeline. And the market itself has changed shape to match: the language this year was pointedly about two-way exchange and co-development rather than one-way export, and the room reflected it, with UK and US producers, venues and investors attending in numbers.
What I argued on stage
My forum session made one point, and I will repeat it here because it is the single most useful thing I can say to any producer weighing London. Route selection beats ambition.
There are four honest ways into the UK: an industry showcase, a limited Off West End season, English-language development, and a full commercial run. Each proves something different, costs a different order of money, and suits a different piece at a different stage. The commonest mistake I see is starting at the end, pricing a full commercial production first and being frightened off, when a showcase would have answered the real question for a fraction of the cost. The second commonest is the reverse: treating a showcase as the goal rather than as evidence gathered for the next decision.
What Korean producers asked me
Across a week of meetings the same questions kept arriving in different words. Who decides, if we hire a UK team? What do we tell our investors at home? How do we know the London money is managed cleanly? Can we work in Korean? And, quietly, the bravest question of all: what happens if London says no?
Underneath all five sits one real question, which is about trust. Korean producers have built a musical industry with extraordinary development speed and a fiercely loyal audience culture, and they are rightly protective of the work. The honest answer to the trust question is structural, not personal: work with people whose economics reward your success rather than their own position in your show. It is why we work for hire, take no rights and no co-producer billing, and put everything in writing before money moves.
Where the gaps are
Respectfully, because the standard of work I saw was high: three things would make Korean productions land better in London. First, budget literacy about the UK specifically. Theatre Tax Relief is routinely misunderstood; qualifying productions can reclaim 40 per cent of 80 per cent of eligible spend, around 32 to 36 pence back on every eligible pound, subject to eligibility, and the claim runs through a UK production company. Modelled properly, it changes what is affordable. Second, localisation depth is decided too late. Surtitled Korean, part-English and full English-language production are three different budgets and three different audiences, and the choice belongs at the start. Third, marketing lines are sized for Seoul, where a strong show finds its audience quickly. London opens roughly two hundred productions a month; being seen is a budget line, not a hope.
What London should learn in return
The exchange genuinely runs both ways. The development pace of the Korean pipeline, from reading to premiere, would embarrass most UK development cycles. The debate inside the market was self-critical in a way I admired, including a frank conversation about resisting spectacle for its own sake. And the audience culture, where fans return to a production five and ten times and drive social media themselves, is something every London marketer should study rather than patronise.
What happens next
The scripts are being read. The KakaoTalk threads are live. And on 31 July a delegation of senior Korean producers is in London for the Korea Musical Theatre Producers Showcase; if you are among them, come and find me.
If you are a Korean producer weighing the London question, two things exist for you. Our Korea page, in Korean, at jamessteel.productions/korea, and our guide, Taking a Korean Musical to London, which walks the routes, the budget drivers and the safeguards. The first conversation is free and costs you thirty minutes. The right first step is smaller than you think, and it is rarely the one that was pitched to you first.
