Chapter 51 A Qualified Director

Today, the small projection room at the Beijing Film Academy was packed with people.

Old Situ, Xie Fei, Old Tian, and the head of the Directing Department, Xie Xiaojing, were all present. Aside from Hou Keming, two senior school leaders had also come, surprisingly chatting and laughing as they accompanied a representative from Sony Pictures Classics.

Hou Keming whispered to Cao Yang, "Didn't we realize from the beginning that Sony Pictures Classics and MK2 actually brought an acquaintance? That big-nosed Russian, did you see him?"

Cao Yang looked at the three foreigners—two from Sony Pictures Classics and one from MK2. Among the Sony Pictures Classics contingent was a big-nosed man with distinct Slavic features.

He nodded, recalling that when he had been in contact with the Sony Pictures Classics team, they had introduced this man as Mr. Mikhalkov, though he hadn't paid much attention at the time.

Hou Keming wore a complicated expression as he looked at Cao Yang, though overall he seemed pleased.

"He's not actually an employee of Sony Pictures Classics; he's a professional invited by them from among their long-term partners, probably here to evaluate your film to give Sony Pictures Classics a reference. I never expected Sony Pictures Classics to actually bring him along. It seems they take you very seriously now."

"Who is he?"

*My man, you've been sighing here for ages without mentioning his identity—get to the point!*

"His *Burnt by the Sun* won the Grand Prix at Cannes in 1994 and the Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film in 1995."

"*Burnt by the Sun*? Oh, let me think... Nikita Mikhalkov, is that his name? So he's Director Mikhalkov. When the Sony Pictures Classics people introduced him as Mr. Mikhalkov, it didn't click, and I never expected it to be him."

Hearing the mention of *Burnt by the Sun*, Cao Yang finally remembered who this was. Due to translation differences earlier, he hadn't connected the foreigner brought by Sony Pictures Classics with the renowned Mikhalkov.

No wonder Sony Pictures Classics invited him. Mikhalkov also had another film that won the Golden Lion at the Venice Film Festival back in 1991.

That film was called *Urga*, also translated as *Close to Eden*.

Perhaps many people were unfamiliar with this film.

In 1991, the northern bear was plagued by internal turmoil.

A Slavic man, seeking to escape the unrest in his home country, came to the Hulunbuir Grasslands in China to shoot a film where both the male and female leads were Chinese. It went on to win the highest grand prize, the Golden Lion, at the 48th Venice International Film Festival.

At that same Venice Film Festival, the Grand Prix went to the national director's *Raise the Red Lantern*.

No wonder Sony Pictures Classics invited him. As a Golden Lion winner at Venice, he matched right up with Cao Yang's stated desire to go to Venice.

This was a way for Sony Pictures Classics to flex its muscles. *Look,* it said, *you want Venice? I'll have a Venice Golden Lion-winning director come take a look at your film.*

And this wasn't just any Venice Golden Lion-winning director; with the company's backing, he had also won an Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film.

How about that? Was the sincerity sufficient?

It was naked showing off and temptation.

The Oscars—that sacred destination yearned for by countless filmmakers across the world.

To Cao Yang, however, the Oscars were just so-so; holy my foot. Just like the European Big Three, they were merely places to farm prestige.

The only difference was that after farming prestige at the Oscars, you could conveniently farm money in Hollywood, which made it slightly better than the European Big Three.

After the pleasantries were exchanged, the screening began.

The opening of *3-Iron* was very mundane. Before interacting with the female lead, the male lead's acting skills weren't particularly apparent.

However, right from the start, the film continuously employed cinematic language—various metaphors, contrasts, and foils—that made the few people from the Directing Department's eyes light up. They stared intently at the images on screen, terrified of missing anything.

These camera techniques struck right at the sweet spot for these few. This was precisely what a genius director from the Directing Department ought to be doing; shooting this way gave the work meaning.

Besides the people from the Directing Department, Hou Keming and Mikhalkov were also watching the imagery very attentively. Hou Keming had also risen through the Directing Department; although he hadn't directed many films, he knew enough to understand this.

As for Mikhalkov, it went without saying that he could certainly understand it.

It wasn't until the male lead encountered the female lead and the two began their intense interplay of acting that everyone's attention shifted slightly. Even Xie Fei, who had been most meticulous in observing the camera's expression, let out a soft murmur of surprise.

Hou Keming even restrained himself from glancing at Cao Yang several times. Last time, it could be said they just happened to encounter Li Xiaoran whose acting skills had reached god-tier status, achieving mutual success, but what about this time?

He had no idea who that male actor was, nor did he know anything about his past acting chops.

But the female lead was Yu Feihong! How could Hou Keming possibly not know Yu Feihong?

Which school leader didn't have a rough idea of every actor or director who became famous after graduating from the academy?

What were Yu Feihong's acting skills like?

Well, she was a graduate of the Beijing Film Academy, and that was more than enough.

Yet what did Hou Keming see?

The person who played the female lead with such vividness and life—was she a graduate of the Beijing Film Academy? Was that Yu Feihong, who only ever played cold and aloof characters?

Hou Keming took a deep breath. He felt he had wronged Cao Yang. This wasn't a case of mutual achievement like with Li Xiaoran; this was a master craftsman capable of truly grooming stars!

When the screening reached the scene in prison where the male lead walked with bizarre strides and played hide-and-seek with the prison guard, Hou Keming felt a strange sense of creeping horror.

After taking two beatings, the male lead walked around waving a hand with an eye drawn on it. Then the camera stopped following the male lead's line of sight and instead shifted direction, adopting a third-person perspective. A sentence involuntarily popped into Hou Keming's mind: "He's done it. He's really done it."

Sure enough, the male lead had become invisible; no one could see him anymore. No matter how the camera perspective moved, no matter whose side it passed by, nobody could detect him.

It was both chilling and bizarre.

When the plot finally returned to the villa at the end, and Yu Feihong began her brilliant yet spine-chilling performance as well, Hou Keming couldn't help wondering if he had remembered incorrectly—was Yu Feihong actually a graduate of the Central Academy of Drama?

Could the Beijing Film Academy cultivate an actor with this kind of acting ability?

As soon as the screening ended, Xie Fei couldn't help giving Cao Yang a thumbs-up, sighing, "Compared to your previous film, the technique in this one is simply... simply..."

He had originally wanted to offer a mix of praise and criticism, but thought better of it. Although the previous film hadn't used shooting techniques, if it were classified as a New Wave film, there was nothing anyone could say.

What did New Wave films emphasize?

Low budgets, rapid production cycles, long takes, location shooting, natural light, irrational and free-wheeling improvised narration, and deeply personal auteur cinema.

Even as a leading figure of the Fourth Generation of directors, Xie Fei could not easily dismiss New Wave cinema; this involved much more than a simple personal critique of a film.

If word got out and someone slapped him with the heavy label that Xie Fei did not recognize New Wave cinema, it would bring endless trouble.

"Good, good, this film is ingenious!"

Old Situ also patted Cao Yang's arm with great satisfaction. "Not bad, a massive improvement compared to the last film."

Xie Fei couldn't help nodding, sighing, "A director must speak through cinematic language; this is what a director is supposed to do. Of course, you mustn't overdo it either—too much of a good thing is bad.

On top of having sufficiently rich cinematic language, a truly qualified director must also tell the story clearly."

Afterward, he asked Xie Xiaojing, "There was a part earlier I didn't quite catch. Shall we watch it again?"

"Coincidentally, I have quite a few doubts as well. Let's run it again."