Chapter 37: Entering the Game in Person

On the first day of filming, it is customary to avoid retakes and verbal outbursts to ensure a smooth start. For the opening shot of "3-Iron," Cao Yang selected the film's very first scene: a female statue blocked by a net, with golf balls being hit toward it and caught by the netting.

This scene employs what is known as "cinematic language." What is cinematic language? It is the technique of using visual elements within a film to convey emotion and plot. In other words, stripping away subtitles, music, and special effects, the imagery itself communicates the story and mood. Simply put, it is using the camera as a language to tell a story.

In this instance, the female statue symbolizes a woman suffering; the golf ball represents the abuser inflicting pain; and the net in front of the statue symbolizes protection for the victim. Is the purpose of this cinematic language to cater to the audience? Certainly not. If this opening scene were removed and the film began directly, would it affect the average viewer? For most, it would make no difference. Most people watch films for relaxation and entertainment and are unlikely to scrutinize the meaning behind every fragment or shot.

Only a handful of viewers—either to appear sophisticated or out of a genuine love for cinema—will delve into the meaning of a specific piece of cinematic language. They might post their interpretations online, leading others to have an "Aha!" moment. The primary audience for this type of language consists of industry professionals, such as film critics, film school faculty, students analyzing scenes, and festival jurors. This is what is called "art," and arthouse directors pride themselves on being artists.

The film is filled with such visual metaphors. For example, at the female lead's home, a lion statue stands sideways toward the female sculpture, symbolizing the abuser’s predatory gaze, ready to strike at any uncertain moment. In the scene in front of the police station, there is a shot of a goddess statue with angel wings. This symbolizes the heroine’s desire to escape her suffering, but the ropes seemingly tangled around the statue’s feet suggest she has not yet broken free from her shackles, foreshadowing her return home by her husband.

When the male lead visits the boxer’s house, he covers the eyes in the photographs with white paper. This satirizes the arrogance of the male figures; the eyes are windows to the soul, and by covering them, he implies their inner corruption. Later, when he takes the photos away, the fact that they were originally framed represents the heroine being trapped in a beautiful, hollow shell; removing the photos from their frames represents the ideology of rescuing the suffering woman. Furthermore, the fact that all the photos of the heroine in the film are in black and white is a detail that invites deeper, unsettling reflection.

There is plenty of this cinematic language throughout the film, the most intriguing being the final shot of the scale reading zero, which can be interpreted in several ways.

"Liu Ye, you take the shot. Just hit it hard. I want the impact of the ball hitting the net. Don't worry about accuracy; it doesn't matter if you hit it a few times," Cao Yang instructed. "For the shot, go with a close-up. Include the entire statue and the net. Place the statue to the left, leaving empty space on the right. Keep filming until I call cut."

"All departments, ready?"
"Camera?"
"OK."
"Lighting?"
"Set."
"Sound?"
"OK."
"Scene One, Take One, Action!"

The clapperboard snapped. The camera was already positioned and framed; it was simple. Liu Ye hadn't played golf before and had only been practicing for a couple of days. He didn't need to be precise; he just needed his posture to look natural.

The first swing was elegant, but it was pointless—the camera wasn't focused on his form. The ball was the protagonist. With a "thwack," the ball hit the right side of the net softly. Liu Ye turned his head awkwardly. The set was deathly quiet; no one spoke or laughed. Everyone was focused on their duties.

Taking a breath, Liu Ye swung again. This time it was even worse; he missed the ball entirely. He was visibly nervous. Cao Yang glared at him and pressed his hands downward, signaling him to relax. After a dozen more attempts, only three balls landed roughly in the target area.

"Cut!"

Everyone exhaled—the shot was in the bag. Although the take lasted over two minutes, after editing, only a few seconds would be used. The next shot was simpler: the camera was placed at an intersection where Liu Ye would ride his motorcycle from the distance, turn, and ride away.

The crew began setting up. Tian Zhuangzhuang checked the frame, adjusted the position, and signaled an "OK" to Cao Yang.

Cao Yang walked over, frowned immediately, and asked, "Who chose this spot?"

Tian Zhuangzhuang raised a hand. "It's just a simple shot. I picked a spot at random."

"Who told you to pick this spot? Didn't I specify a corner with an incline? The corner is there, but where is the incline?" Cao Yang kicked the director's chair over. "Where is the incline I asked for? Did you eat it? Have you forgotten how to frame a shot because you haven't directed a film in ten years?"

He walked to the middle of the road, gesturing with his hands. "Here, right here. It needs to go uphill—a significant, visible slope. Don't tell me this tiny bump is the major incline I wanted."

"Cinematic language, do you understand? The protagonist comes from below, turns, and moves from low to high, from right to left, against the slope. It foreshadows the obstacles and the difficult, uphill path he is about to face. Find me another spot immediately."

Tian Zhuangzhuang muttered to himself, then gestured to two crew members. "You, and you, come with me."

Cao Yang walked to the production car, opened the door, and sat inside.

"Director Cao, what about..." the assistant director, Li Mingyi, asked nervously.

"Wrap it up. We'll shoot tomorrow." Cao Yang slammed the door, and the driver took him back to the hotel.

About half an hour after Cao Yang returned to his room, Tian Zhuangzhuang knocked and entered.

"Senior brother, drink some water." Cao Yang poured a glass and handed it to him.

"That felt good to yell, didn't it?" Tian accepted the glass, took a sip, and asked.

"Thank you for being willing to play the part, senior brother."

Cao Yang gave him a thumbs up. In truth, it would be more accurate to say this was about "killing the chicken to scare the monkeys," but saying that to Tian would be rude.

With the recent success of "On the Beach at Night Alone" and the constant media attention, the new crew members and the interns from the Beijing Film Academy had started to drift. They subconsciously viewed Tian Zhuangzhuang as the authority figure, going to him first for everything. This trend was becoming increasingly obvious.

Once Tian realized this, he knew it couldn't continue. He knew that based on Cao Yang’s personality, he would eventually fire them and bring in a new team, which would delay production and cause a PR disaster. It was the worst possible outcome.

So, Tian had approached Cao Yang to discuss a plan: use the opening of the film to allow Cao Yang to "kill the chicken" and re-establish who was in charge. That was why they had filmed the golf scene first—it was easy enough that even an assistant could handle it—just to ensure a smooth start before creating a scene at the second location to make an example of the situation.