Chapter 50: Exerting Strength Together

Yang Qian was very cooperative and hardly ever argued with Cao Yang throughout the process. Although he felt certain shots would have been more meaningful if included, editing is ultimately a process of selection and trade-offs. What you consider good might differ from what the director thinks is good.

Everyone has a different understanding of things. When you want to avoid arguments, it is best to seek common ground while reserving differences.

Editing is a tedious and dry process, consisting entirely of watching, cutting, and splicing day after day. Fortunately, Cao Yang's working efficiency was blazing fast, which shortened this process considerably.

After editing, color grading was required. During filming, factors such as equipment and lighting could cause color deviations in the footage. Color correction fixes these discrepancies, ensuring a consistent overall tone for the film. At the same time, it aligns the visuals with the movie's theme and emotions, enhancing its artistic impact. For instance, scenes in the movie that required contrast needed their color tones slightly heightened to make that contrast stand out more.

Once these tasks were handled, only the background music remained. A couple of days ago, Hou Keming had brought over several soothing tracks according to Cao Yang's specifications, along with three Western Regions songs performed by hired singers.

In *3-Iron*, original live-action sound was used most of the time, with background music appearing in only a few select segments. It was simple and rather crude.

After selecting and adding the appropriate score, Cao Yang played back the short segments with music several times. He found that although it differed from the original work, it felt natural rather than jarring, and actually turned out quite well.

Much like modern short videos where one or a few clips from a movie or television show are paired with different background music and edited together—does that feel out of place?

Therefore, background music most of the time simply serves to complement the plot and render the mood. It is just that when the right music is chosen, it strikes that exact emotional chord—and almost everyone who can achieve that is a master film composer.

*3-Iron* was complete.

Emerging from his creative seclusion, Cao Yang suddenly realized that with the movie finished, he could no longer be accused of breaking his promise to Elder Situ.

Never mind, now was not the time to dwell on that; he needed to get a good night's sleep first.

After resting for a day, Cao Yang returned to the university.

Just as he anticipated, the moment he stepped out of Elder Situ's office, Hou Keming was waiting for him as if on cue, pulling him along as they walked and asking, "Is the post-production finished?"

Cao Yang didn't even want to answer. Was there anything happening at the Beijing Film Studio that you didn't already know?

"It's finished. We'll rush out an English subtitle track to match it in the next couple of days. I've already notified Sony Pictures Classics and MK2; they'll be sending people over in a few days so we can review the raw cut together."

This matter couldn't be kept under wraps anyway, so it was better to lay it all out in the open. The school would likely be more than happy to see this succeed; if the film turned out well, this would also be a major boost.

True to form, Hou Keming didn't mind at all. He nodded thoughtfully and said, "That's a good thing. Then let's wait a couple of days. Sony Pictures Classics certainly knows what they're doing."

During the period when Cao Yang was in seclusion working on post-production, *Alone on the Beach at Night* had already been released in North America. As an arthouse film and a Chinese-language picture at that, its box office potential was naturally limited from the start.

This was simply an unavoidable reality. At the current stage of Chinese cinema, martial arts films were perhaps the only genre that ordinary American audiences found interesting.

Based on box office trends and projections by professional institutions, it was expected to gross between 5 million and 7 million US dollars, with the bulk of the revenue coming primarily from Chinese-populated districts.

The reason for such an upward fluctuation was mainly due to Li Xiaoran going to the United States for promotional activities. The effect was immediate, with occupancy rates noticeably increasing in several locations.

Despite the seemingly low box office numbers, this had already far exceeded Sony Pictures Classics' projections; their internal forecast was around 3 million. Combined with the South American box office, this would basically recoup their costs.

The box office returns from East Asia and Southeast Asia would be pure profit, and that didn't even factor in long-term revenues.

Sony Pictures Classics hadn't expected that North America alone would not only cover costs but actually turn a profit, so they naturally elevated Cao Yang's tier by two levels.

As long as you could bring them revenue, you were their most esteemed master.

Upon receiving Cao Yang's call, Sony Pictures Classics attached great importance to it and promised to send professionals over.

MK2 also agreed to send representatives. Unlike the rapid box office returns in the United States, they had specialized arthouse theater chains in Europe where revenue relied on long-term screenings, favoring a steady and enduring stream of income.

Upon learning that Cao Yang had emerged from seclusion, Yu Feihong sent him another "1206" message.

For some inexplicable reason, whenever she was with Cao Yang, Yu Feihong's competitive streak became exceptionally fierce, and she always wanted to win his approval.

Much like horseback riding—just as they had been galloping for a brief moment, with Cao Yang merely remarking, "Your acting is on par with Li Xiaoran's," Sister Feihong let out a sharp cry almost simultaneously and tumbled off the horse, trembling.

The effect was immediate.

If Cao Yang didn't praise her acting skills, she could sometimes even hold her own against him on equal footing.

Yu Feihong shook Cao Yang's arm and asked, "Tell me the truth, what do you think of my acting?"

Cao Yang looked at her. Are you ever going to drop this? I remember every time you ask this, you look down at me with your chin raised. What's going on this time? Why aren't you acting so proud anymore?

"Your acting in *3-Iron* is exceptionally brilliant."

Cao Yang spoke the truth. As for her performances in other film and television works—they were passable; compared to the younger generation of starlets in the future, her work still had merits worthy of recognition.

"Director Tian said it's a pity about my acting. I've never understood what he meant, and asking him yielded no answer."

"He probably just said it offhand."

Based on that single sentence alone, Cao Yang had no idea what it meant either. To understand it, he would at least need to infer it from the context of what was said before and after.

"Stop messing around."

Yu Feihong swatted away Cao Yang's mischievous hand and continued, "I don't think he said it casually at the time. First, she said that if I win an award, I'll also be called a 'Cao Girl', and then she said it was a pity about my acting."

"A Cao Girl?"

Yu Feihong gave a soft "mm" and swatted Cao Yang's hand once more. "Stop fooling around for a moment, wait..."

Ignoring her, Cao Yang continued while pondering to himself, and said, "Do you want to hear the honest truth, or old Tian's wild guesswork?"

Yu Feihong grew even more puzzled, gently biting her lower lip. "Wh... what do you mean?"

"The honest truth is that your acting in *3-Iron* is truly wonderful. If such a fantastic performance doesn't win an award, it really is a bit of a pity."

"What... what did old Tian mean?"

Cao Yang kissed her forehead while his hands kept moving.

"Don't..."

"Old Tian meant that Liu Ye's performance is also very strong, and his screen time is greater than yours... He felt that if an actor were to win an award, Liu Ye has a higher probability than you do, which is why he feels it's a pity for you."

"Is... is that so?"

"Don't listen to old Tian's nonsense. He was just looking at it from a cinematic perspective. Sometimes, when winning awards, as long as you reach that baseline standard, external factors matter much more."

"Award or no award, Big Sister wants to reward you right now..."

With a hazy look in her eyes, Yu Feihong flipped over and transformed into a female knight, looking just as spirited and dashing as ever.

A short while later.

"Quick, tell Big Sister quickly, how is Big Sister's acting?"

"Good, exceptionally good, just as good as Li Xiaoran's."

Ah...

The female knight was unhorsed once again.