Chapter 25: I Was Narrow-Minded

In the evening, Cao Yang chose a private restaurant and invited Tian Zhuangzhuang over for a drink.

Old Tian took a sip of liquor and, while picking at his food, said, "I went to the bank this afternoon and was completely stunned. My goodness, five hundred thousand? Are you trying to bribe me, kid?"

"Cut it out. You’re just a freeloader at the Beijing Film Studio; why would I bribe you? I sold some foreign copyrights and made some money, so this is your share as a producer. As for the domestic side, since we started this project together, we’ll see how the box office turns out," Cao Yang explained with a smile. "Let’s get one thing straight: you don't get a cut of the foreign earnings—winning that award was my own doing. I was originally going to wait until the film finished its domestic run to give you your share, but I ran into a problem I wanted to ask your advice on, so I figured I’d pay you now to keep you from holding back or playing games with me."

Old Tian’s hand paused mid-air, the food from his chopsticks dropping onto the table. He picked it back up and shoved it into his mouth, his heart filled with mixed emotions. He had never expected any of this; when Teacher Situ gave the word, he was just helping out, never dreaming he would see a penny of profit. The project had succeeded, and he was happy—first, because Teacher Situ’s judgment was still sharp, and second, because he could consider himself a "talent scout." He never expected this young man to be so honorable as to treat him as a co-initiator.

"You really have a good read on people. If it weren't for this bonus, I definitely would have kept a card up my sleeve. But since I've eaten and taken your money, I’m obligated to help. Tell me, what’s the matter? I’ll weigh in for you."

"I’ve written a script..."

"What?" Old Tian’s eyes widened, his face etched with utter surprise. "You already have a new project? You haven't even rested for a few days, or read some books—you’re still a student, why the rush?"

"It’s just a script; I haven't officially launched the project yet," Cao Yang said, taking a bite of food. "Besides, you’re my go-to supporting actor and full-time cinematographer. How could I start a project without you?"

Should I tell him the market is warming up and a wave of commercial films is coming, and that I need to build my reputation and capital over the next two years? Even if I told him, he probably wouldn't believe it.

"Get lost! When did I become 'your' man, and a 'full-time cinematographer' at that? I am a director—a director, get it?"

"Then why haven't I seen you direct anything in all these years?"

"Are you asking for a beating? Besides, my ban is lifted next year."

"So, are you in or not?"

Old Tian downed a shot of liquor and smacked his lips. "I'm in."

"There you go."

Cao Yang then explained the problem he was facing. "There are a few parts of the script that won't pass censorship. I’ve already come up with a few solutions, but I haven't decided which one to use, and I wanted to hear your opinion."

"Go ahead."

"The first is to revise it. Change everything that won't pass. There’s one part..."

"Don't waste my time. If it were that easy to change, you wouldn't be sitting here talking about it," Old Tian said, chewing his food. "Just tell me the second option."

"Change the setting of the story, maybe to Hong Kong."

"That’s fine. As long as it doesn't affect the feel of the film, just change it. What’s there to hesitate about?"

Cao Yang understood Old Tian's point. Some films, even if they fail censorship, can’t just be moved to Hong Kong—for example, the rural dramas favored by the Fifth Generation directors would look completely discordant if moved.

"But I want to go to Venice this year. If I film in Hong Kong, there’s no way I’ll have enough time."

"You want to go to Venice?" Old Tian paused. The young man had a huge appetite—having just gone to Berlin, he now wanted to hit Venice. He didn't know whether to call it confidence or arrogance.

Cao Yang started counting on his fingers for Old Tian. "The Venice Film Festival starts on August 29th. The deadline for main competition entries should be in June. Even if we cut the line with a private submission, we have to get it in before the final selection is announced, which can't be later than August. We also need at least a month for the censorship process, plus pre-production. That leaves us with just over three months for shooting and post-production."

Yes, Cao Yang now had the credentials to "cut the line." The deadline for the main competition is usually three months before the opening, but that applies to ordinary filmmakers. Some "special" directors are exempt from these deadlines. A director like Cao Yang, who has won awards in the main competition of the "Big Three" European film festivals, receives special treatment. As long as he notifies the organizing committee and submits before the final list is announced, there is a special review channel.

Old Tian looked at Cao Yang like he was an idiot. "Who says a story set in Hong Kong has to be filmed in Hong Kong? Your last film started abroad, so why did you film it on Ludong Island instead of going abroad?"

Huh? Ah!

Cao Yang patted his forehead. He had been affected by inertia; because it was so close, he kept thinking that if a story was set in Hong Kong, it had to be filmed there.

Old Tian took a leisurely sip of his drink and added, "Of course, doing this might annoy those high-and-mighty Hong Kong filmmakers, but you can be flexible. Just put a couple of Hong Kong actors in your crew, and it’ll pass on the surface."

This was a good idea; Cao Yang thought it made sense and decided to go with it.

Old Tian then suggested, "Actually, there’s an even simpler way: shoot two versions. Submit one for censorship and use the other for the festival. Plenty of people have done that."

Cao Yang rejected the idea without a second thought. He didn't want to get on the authorities' radar and become a "priority target." If the film got stuck in censorship for half a year, there would be no one to complain to.

After dinner, Cao Yang checked the time. It wasn't too late, so he took a taxi to Li Xiaoran’s place. They had arranged to meet there tonight.

***

Once they met, they freshened up and had a "big meal."

After a long while, Li Xiaoran lay lazily in Cao Yang’s arms, her hand slowly sliding down to grip him. With a hint of grievance in her voice, she said, "You’re going at it so hard with me—when you go back and she wants it, will you still be able to perform?"

*Hiss...*

Are you getting addicted to acting? Don't you plan on coming out of character? Or do you just like this kind of vibe? And don't ever doubt the stamina of a man in his twenties; he’s plenty capable, not like some guy soaking goji berries in a thermos.

"Let’s continue," he thought. "Let me show you what a young man is really made of."

An hour later, Li Xiaoran had quieted down. She swatted away Cao Yang’s restless hand and said weakly, "Stop it, I have something serious to ask you."

"Isn't what we’re doing serious?"

Li Xiaoran swatted his hand away again. "Be good. I surrender, okay? I really have something to ask. Stop messing around, I really can't go on."

Cao Yang let his hand rest on her curves. "What is it?"

As soon as he asked, Li Xiaoran’s eyes narrowed, a look of small triumph on her face. "The National Master’s thirty-million-dollar blockbuster just sent me an audition invitation."

Hearing "The National Master’s blockbuster," Cao Yang knew exactly what she was talking about. It was *Hero*, which the National Master was currently preparing. He had talked to Old Tian about it today, and Old Tian had even sneered at the National Master for "selling out" by making a commercial film.

That was the prevailing attitude among academic directors toward commercial films at the time. To put it this way: if Cao Yang had taken a commercial script to old Teacher Situ, he would have probably flipped through it, set it down, and said earnestly, "This script of yours... the commercial appeal is too strong, and it lacks humanistic concern. Next time you write a script, you must think more, look more, settle down, and focus on human nature and society..."

And that would be the end of it. Are you kidding? You want a teacher to help you with a "vulgar" commercial script? Where does he think he is? This is the Beijing Film Academy’s Directing Department, a place that considers its mission to be the cultivation of directors with humanistic sensibilities.