Chaos, Seduction, Fragments: Inside the Visual Madness of Gnarly
- Ezabella Piccione
- Nov 10, 2025
- 4 min read

When the Gnarly music video dropped, fans didn’t just watch it—they fell into it. Between the surreal limousine performances, bursts of strobe light, and unexpected images like flies mating on bread, the video managed to be both hypnotically beautiful and deliciously bizarre.
Behind the lens was a cinematographer with a knack for crafting unsettling yet alluring imagery. In this exclusive look, SungHun Hong will take us through the creative decisions, technical challenges, and happy accidents that shaped one of the year’s most talked-about music videos.
Setting the Visual Tone
If the mood of Gnarly had to be summed up in three words, SungHun doesn’t hesitate: Chaos, Seduction, Fragments. From the outset, the goal wasn’t just to make something pretty—it was to make something you feel.

“I wanted to visually express an uncomfortable feeling that lingers beneath everyday imagery,” he explains. “Moments where familiar spaces are disrupted by strange behavior or composition.”
Rather than drawing from a specific set of references, the look came together organically through close communication with the director.
The result was a reality-versus-surreality interplay: realistic environments subtly warped by lighting, texture, or scale. “We aimed to leave a strange visual aftertaste,” they say. “Refined sharpness rather than softness—something that sticks in your head.”
Music Dictates the Movement
The unpredictable structure of the track itself heavily shaped the camera work. Tension, repetition, and rhythmic shifts guided both shot pacing and movement.
“The rhythm of each scene guided how the camera moved and when it paused,” SungHun noted. Handheld shots and wide-angle lenses often distorted faces or expanded space, adding to the video’s deliberate disorientation. Transitions between wildly different scenes—inside a limo, on a stage, in the open air—were tied together with bursts of strobe light that mimicked camera flashes, unifying the chaos.
Beauty in the Bizarre

If the intent was to unsettle the viewer, it was all part of the plan.
“That was very much the director’s intent,” SungHun confirmed. The imagery toggles between darkly humorous and unsettling: a fall from a building, chaotic limo performances, the intimate absurdity of insects on bread. It’s bizarre, but you can’t look away.
Tools of the Trade
While Gnarly feels unpredictable, its technical foundation was anything but random. The team shot on the ARRI Alexa Mini LF in full-frame mode, paired with ARRI Enso Primes for their modern resolution, controlled flares, and consistent image characteristics.
“In the limo interior, we used vintage-style filters to subtly distort and add texture,” he explained. “That combination created a surreal tension—making familiar spaces feel slightly off.”
For dance sequences, the Laowa 12mm lens amped up spatial distortion, pulling the viewer into the performers’ energy.
Some moments slowed to 48fps (frames per second) to give fleeting emotions extra rhythmic weight, while others played with distortion rigs and unusual set manipulations. The infamous “stretching limo” shot? That wasn’t CGI—it was manually pulled structures tracked with a rail-mounted camera, requiring multiple takes for the perfect rhythm.
Plans Change, Magic Happens
Not everything went according to plan. The original idea was to mount the camera outside the limo for driving shots, but reflections made it impossible. The pivot to a fully CG exterior—suggested by production designer Jung Da-woon—ended up making the scene even more dynamic.
Other practical effects proved unexpectedly powerful: the copier light sequence, done entirely with real lighting, looked so convincing it barely needed post-production. And a last-minute blocking adjustment created the illusion of more extras than were actually on set.

Two Days of Controlled Chaos
The shoot spanned just two days, demanding lightning-fast mood and lighting changes between scenes. Physical endurance was as much a tool as the camera itself. “Handheld work, strobes, and performance scenes demanded a lot of stamina,” SungHun recalls.
The set atmosphere, however, was far from tense. “It was energetic and cheerful. Everyone was open to challenging concepts, and the Katseye members were actively engaged—it was creatively free.”
Some moments were as absurd behind the scenes as they were on screen. Lip-syncing with plastic wrap over the face drew laughter from the crew but translated into an unforgettable opening shot.
The Cinematographer’s Favorites
When asked to pick one frame to hang on their wall, they choose the intro package shot—the one that first pulls the viewer into Gnarly’s strange world. The hardest shot? “Definitely stretching the limo. Manually pulling structures while syncing camera movement is no joke.”
Other standout memories include the “invisible fly” sandwich scene, which became internally known as “the fly’s love story,” and the powder-burst dance moment—achieved with flour-covered hands and timed lighting.
Lessons Learned and Advice Given
For all the visual complexity, one of the cinematographer’s biggest takeaways wasn’t about gear or lighting—it was about collaboration. “This was with a foreign director. We had only one meeting before shooting, and I wish we’d had more time to share ideas and build the work together.”
SungHun's advice to younger cinematographers? “Hold onto your own visual instincts. That’s what makes your work memorable. And truly push it to the end.”
For them, success isn’t measured in views or awards. “When the emotion connects. Even one question or comment from a viewer means it resonated.”
Five Years From Now
If there’s one wish for Gnarly’s legacy, it’s that it lingers. “That it’s a music video they feel oddly drawn to—something they keep watching without realizing why.”
And perhaps that’s the magic of Gnarly: it doesn’t just tell you a story, it pulls you into a mood—half dream, half fever—and leaves you somewhere between laughter and unease.
Or, in three words: Chaos. Seduction. Fragments.
xoxo, Fashion Editorial Writer, Ezabella Piccione.
