Chapter 34: Tiered Advertising

The preparation for the film is progressing rapidly. The locations have been selected, and the script has been filed with the Youth Film Studio. Only a few props remain under urgent construction, expected to be completed in three to five days.

As for the cast, the leads have been set: Liu Ye as the male lead and Yu Feihong as the female lead. This time, Cao Yang did not dare to experiment, fearing a repeat of the situation with Li Xiaoran. While waiting for the props, he spent every day with Liu Ye and Yu Feihong, having them read the script thoroughly, share their interpretations, and then correcting them while explaining the core of the story. This process could be called a script table read, but because it only involved the leads, it went beyond that; Cao Yang was forcefully imposing his own viewpoint to prevent them from misinterpreting the material.

The film is unusual because the leads have almost no dialogue, relying entirely on their performances. Even the slightest difference in interpretation would lead to vastly different results. Cao Yang was determined to break everything down until they fully understood his intentions.

Liu Ye and Yu Feihong are two very different actors. Upon learning there was no dialogue, Yu Feihong's initial reaction was relief, thinking the film would be easy to shoot without having to memorize lines or decide on the expression for every sentence. Liu Ye, however, was worried. He knew his current state was off, and the lack of dialogue demanded even more acting prowess, body language, and micro-expressions—after all, one could not maintain a single expression for the entire film without dialogue. A dog would have more acting range than that! At least a dog can snarl from time to time.

In private, Liu Ye approached Cao Yang, hesitatingly saying that his mental state was problematic and difficult to recover from quickly. He suggested that if he weren't in the right state, it might be better to replace him. Cao Yang wanted to laugh; if he were in a normal, carefree, sunny-boy state, he wouldn't have cast him in the first place. "I believe in you. Keep your current state; that is exactly what I need for the character. Don't you dare change it," Cao Yang comforted him with a smile. If he were in a normal state, Cao Yang would have had to waste time trying to manipulate his performance. Now, he was saving time and could even apply an "immersion experience" later. Suddenly, Cao Yang hesitated: given Liu Ye's current condition, was it appropriate to add an immersion experience? He didn't want him to break under the pressure.

As for Yu Feihong, once Cao Yang ensured she understood the plot, he left her alone. Given how relaxed and at ease she was, an immersion experience should pose no problem for her.

*3-Iron* (the film) is ostensibly about a male protagonist who spends his days riding a motorcycle through the city, seeking out vacant homes to secretly inhabit for a time. He lives as if he were in his own home, eating, sleeping, and taking photos with the owners' pictures. He never steals; instead, he cleans, does laundry, and repairs furniture. One day, he breaks into a villa and finds the female lead covered in bruises, curled in a corner, silently enduring physical and mental agony. To him, this is just another vacant house, but for the frequently abused woman, is it not the same? She has a home, but no one to keep her company—how is that different from an empty house?

When the husband returns and begins his usual verbal and physical abuse, the protagonist intervenes, striking the abuser with a golf club before taking the woman away to "experience life." Moving from one stranger's home to another, the woman feels a freedom and joy she has never known. Eventually, the protagonist is framed by the husband and imprisoned. Finally, when the woman is forced back into that cold home and faces the familiar violence, she no longer remains silent and chooses to fight back.

...The protagonist achieves enlightenment in prison, masters a divine skill, and rejoins the woman's household. Unseen by the husband, the three live a life of shameless bliss...

In truth, this absurd ending is the essence of the film. Without it, this would just be a drama about domestic violence, lacking the necessary sublimation to win awards.

The supporting cast is also set. The most important role, the abusive husband, went to Hong Kong actor Ng Kai-wah, and the corrupt police officer who helps him frame the lead is played by Hong Kong actor Liu Kai-chi. Cao Yang had considered casting a Hong Kong actor for the correctional officer as well, but since that character is not a protagonist, he worried about the optics of having only villains played by Hong Kong actors. He decided against it; two were enough.

Chen Kun and Fu Dalong agreed to play the other supporting roles. For the photographer, Cao Yang spoke with his acting professor, Wang Jinsong, who gladly accepted. With that, the key roles were largely set.

The remaining small roles will be cast from the Beijing Film Academy, which serves as a gesture to the school—after all, it is officially a student practice film, and it wouldn't look right without students. Cao Yang doesn't need to worry about this; his assistant directors, Liu Shan and Li Mingyi, can handle it. Per the usual rule, every department will recruit one or two student assistants, providing room and board and a small stipend as part of their practical training.

With the support of Ludong Island, the entire shoot will take place there. This time, there won't be a large opening press conference like last time; it will be held right on the island. After several days of negotiation, Cheng Jianye finally secured several product placements. Cao Yang’s principle is that while placements are fine, they cannot interfere with the plot. For instance, the digital camera the protagonist uses for selfies can be any brand, as it is inconsequential. The motorcycle can also be any brand; if interpreted as the woman's fantasy, she could easily imagine the man riding any motorcycle. The husband’s car, however, must fit his status as a wealthy man living in a villa—he wouldn't be driving a Mazda or a Hyundai; it must be a BMW, Mercedes, or Lexus. The police car, conversely, would be something like a Mazda.

Product placement is necessary to recoup the film's investment, which is understandable. However, you cannot have a billionaire heir driving a ten-thousand-dollar car everywhere—a common trope in some television dramas. Cheng Jianye followed Cao Yang's instructions, negotiating tiered advertising fees. The base fees are not high, but if the film wins at one of the "Big Three" European festivals, the advertising fees will become a significant source of revenue—hundreds of thousands of US dollars each. Even with just the base fees, more than half of the film's budget has already been recovered. Such is the effect of a renowned director.