Chapter 10: Completion
In the evening, the film crew held a wrap party. All the staff were present, and most of the actors still in Beijing had also come. Cao Yang was in high spirits and had a bit to drink.
After the meal, the rooms rented by the production at the hotel had not yet been checked out. Not wanting to return to school, Cao Yang decided to stay the night at the hotel.
He had just finished washing up when he heard a knock at the door.
Cao Yang opened the door to find Li Xiaoran standing there. Before he could say anything, she naturally pushed her way inside.
Seeing Cao Yang still standing blankly at the doorway, Li Xiaoran said nervously, "Close the door quickly! This is Beijing; don't let her find us."
"Huh?"
Cao Yang was filled with confusion. Was she still in character, projecting the film into reality?
"Xiaoran, listen to me..."
"Don't speak. I can tell the difference. You are Cao Yang from the Beijing Film Academy... but you are also the Cao Yang I have been longing for day and night."
Li Xiaoran threw her arms around Cao Yang, looking at him with eyes full of tenderness.
"Cao Yang, during my time abroad, I thought of you every single day and night. Why didn't you come for me? Are you a coward? So what if you were blacklisted? We could have lived a good life in that small town, watching the sea together, strolling along the beach, and growing old together..."
Having said that, she leaned in and bit down hard on Cao Yang's shoulder, holding it for over twenty seconds before letting go.
"I loved you so much, I missed you so much. Why didn't you come to find me? Do you have any idea how difficult that time was for me abroad?"
Cao Yang hissed in pain, gasping as he realized he was likely bleeding. But he didn't pull away. He sighed, raised his hands, paused for a moment, and then slowly wrapped them around Li Xiaoran, whispering softly, "It’s all my fault. I was too cowardly. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just a man who lacked the courage to face reality. I’m sorry."
Upon hearing Cao Yang's words, the suppressed emotions within Li Xiaoran seemed to find an outlet, and she burst into tears.
"You jerk, you jerk! You’re just a coward with no sense of responsibility, boo-hoo-hoo..."
Cao Yang gently patted her back. "Yes, I’m a jerk, I’m a coward. I’m sorry, I’m sorry..."
"Boo-hoo-hoo..."
Li Xiaoran held onto Cao Yang and cried for a long time until her voice gradually faded, leaving only intermittent sobs.
Cao Yang held her and continued to pat her back gently until he realized she had fallen asleep. He sighed softly. This damn "immersion" feature was truly a curse; he must never use it again when someone was in a fragile state of mind.
He hesitated for a moment, then carefully picked her up, laid her on the bed, and covered her with the quilt.
Just as he was about to leave, Li Xiaoran frowned in her sleep, murmuring softly, "Cao Yang, don't go. Don't leave me..."
Damn this piece-of-trash system!
Cao Yang crouched by the head of the bed and said in a very, very gentle voice, "I won't go. Sleep now, just sleep. I won't leave."
When dawn broke, Li Xiaoran opened her eyes to see Cao Yang asleep by the bedside. A flicker of confusion crossed her face, followed by a look of pleasant surprise, and then a frown.
After a moment of hesitation, she gently nudged Cao Yang. When he opened his eyes, she said softly, "Thank you, Director Cao."
Before he could respond, she continued, "I know I'm having trouble pulling myself out of the role. I’ve been feeling very suppressed inside, and I needed to let it out... Thank you for last night."
"It's all my fault. I didn't intend for this to happen..." Cao Yang thought for a moment and said, "I remember there’s a teacher at school who specializes in emotional guidance for actors who get too deep into their roles. I’ll take you to see her later."
"No need. Just give me her contact information, and I'll go myself. I can't see you for a while; I'm afraid I won't be able to control myself..."
Cao Yang nodded and added, "I’ll have Old Tian take you. He has much more influence than I do; it will be better if he handles it."
...
Back at school, Cao Yang first went to Teacher Situ's office to report that the filming was complete. The well-informed Teacher Situ asked him about the issue of becoming too immersed in a role.
Situ explained that it was normal for actors, especially those who hadn't studied acting methods or were "sideline" actors, to find it harder to detach from their roles. Emotions were difficult to control, and there was no quick or perfect way to snap out of it; one could only try to relax, get out more, avoid triggers, and do happy things, and recovery would come in time.
After bidding farewell to Teacher Situ, Cao Yang went to the Youth Film Studio. The school had promised to provide all assistance except for the film stock itself, so the post-production editing and scoring would be done there.
Because this film was shot mostly in chronological order with few scenes and many long takes, the editing process was quite straightforward.
Especially with the help of "One-Take Li" (Li Xiaoran), there were very few retakes, and the film wastage ratio was as low as 3:1, which was extremely economical.
To put it in perspective, industry veterans usually hover around 4:1, most directors are around 6:1, Jiang Wen can reach 25:1 for every film, and Wong Kar-wai can even film until his investors go bankrupt.
For the score, Cao Yang decided to use the second movement (Adagio) of Schubert's String Quintet in C major, Op. 163. This version was more soothing, making the Adagio feel very warm. It made the visuals comfortable to watch and helped alleviate the sense of oppression brought on by the lead actress.
Once the editing room was booked, Cao Yang settled in early, eager to see the results. He didn't hire a professional editor from the studio; the school had pushed a few students from the directing department's editing major onto him to help out, primarily as part of their practical training. This actually made Cao Yang's job much easier.
Some directors like to cut a four-to-five-hour rough draft first, discuss their vision with an editor, and then have them do the fine cut. The problem is that once the rough cut is done, the director is reluctant to make cuts. They want to keep this shot because it’s meaningful, and that shot because it’s beautiful...
Directors treat every shot like their own child, feeling that each one has special significance. That’s when a trusted editor has to step in, snip-snip-snip, and trim it down to a 100-minute final cut. Then, with professional voice-over, scoring, and color grading, the film is complete.
Of course, the process is rarely smooth, and many editors spend their time arguing with directors. The most crucial link is submitting the film for censorship. If it fails, one has to identify the problems, cut those parts, and perhaps dig through the outtakes to find footage that keeps the story coherent.
Cao Yang had none of these worries. The plot of *On the Beach at Night Alone* was too simple, with few characters, few scenes, and even fewer shots. Since he knew exactly what he wanted while filming, the editing was exceptionally decisive and highly efficient.
He didn't bother with the trick other directors used—creating two versions, one for censorship and one for film festivals. As far as the film he shot was concerned, if one had to find the most "extreme" shot, it would just be the lead actress smoking. There was nothing else that would affect the censorship process.
"Done. Now, time to give the school teachers a little shock."