Chapter 52: Layer Upon Layer

Mikhalkov and the representatives from MK2 also felt the need to watch the film a second time, as several metaphors had eluded them during the initial screening. For a director who considered himself an artist, searching for and deciphering these layers of meaning was a thoroughly engaging exercise.

Thus, the projection began once more.

This time, Mikhalkov spoke up first: "Mr. Cao, I noticed a particular scene where the female protagonist's photograph is pieced back together, but the positions of her hands and shoulders are reversed. I couldn't quite figure out the reasoning behind this."

Ah, these aging European libertines. Naturally, their gaze lingered longer on photographs featuring scanty attire.

"Hands are one of our primary organs for interacting with the world. Placing the hands over the shoulder area in the photograph carries a connotation of rejection and self-defense," Cao Yang explained.

"It also serves to indicate that at this point, the female protagonist has not yet lowered her guard, and the male protagonist has not yet fully succeeded in saving her."

"Oh, a remarkably clever design. Without this image, it would be extremely difficult to convey the female protagonist's inner world through performance alone. With this reassembled yet somewhat fractured picture, everything suddenly becomes crystal clear. Good!"

Mikhalkov praised with a smile, giving Cao Yang a thumbs-up.

The representative from MK2 was named Chabrol, which might also have been a surname. Cao Yang hadn't quite caught his full name and simply addressed him as Mr. Chabrol, who seemed to be a producer.

At that moment, Chabrol suddenly wore an expression of sudden realization, gesturing wildly and speaking with animated body language—one had to admit that the physical expressiveness of these Europeans was truly extraordinary.

"Prior to this, the female protagonist cuts the photograph into small squares and randomly pieces them back together. It's as if she is tearing apart her past, completely shattering her former life before embarking anew and being reborn? Is that right?"

Cao Yang gave Chabrol a thumbs-up, smiling broadly in fervent praise: "My dear Mr. Chabrol, you are entirely correct. Due to the absence of dialogue, the female protagonist uses these subtle actions to depict her resolve to start over."

"Truly ingenious. Let me count: the male protagonist does not utter a single line throughout the entire film, and the female protagonist has only a single line of dialogue, yet the two actors perfectly interpret the complex emotions of the characters. It's incredible. The acting is simply superb."

Chabrol expressed his perspective, adding, "I adore this film. It's utterly cool."

Xie Fei whispered to Xie Xiaojing, "Have you noticed that whenever the male and female leads break into an empty room, the photographs inside invariably project a warm and cozy facade, while domestic discord actually lurks beneath the surface?"

He paused to give an example: "A family of three out on an outing seems like a joyful moment, but upon returning home, the woman complains to her husband, who responds with impatience.

In the boxer's home, it appears to be a sweet newlywed couple, yet later the woman suspects the man when he fails to answer her calls, leading to a quarrel.

And in the female lead's home, needless to say, sweet wedding portraits mask an endless cycle of domestic violence.

Using warm photographs to create such a stark contrast, reflecting the hypocrisy of appearances and the ugliness of reality—the montage technique employed here is textbook material."

Xie Xiaojing nodded and sighed, "Cao Yang has made astonishing progress. Previously, some people criticized his films for being crude and his camera work for being too straightforward. Once this film is released, it will completely shut their detractors up."

Watching old Director Situ sitting serenely as if meditating with his eyes closed, while actually cocking his ears to eavesdrop, Xie Fei felt a strong urge to spit in contempt.

That old fellow had astonishingly good luck. A documentary filmmaker who didn't know the first thing about narrative cinema had somehow stumbled into a goldmine, producing the legendary Class of '78 from the Beijing Film Academy, and now simply picking up the scraps yielded a budding master director.

No, he was no longer just a bud; he was already fully formed, needing only a bit of fine carving to reach perfection.

Seeing that Xie Fei was somewhat shaken, Old Tian decided to administer another minor shock to his system.

"Elder Xie, have you noticed the changes in the statue inside the female lead's home?"

Having heard earlier introductions that the speaker was the film's art director and cinematographer, Mikhalkov quickly asked his translator to relay the words to him.

Chabrol also leaned in to listen to the translation.

Xie Fei thought back, but he hadn't paid attention to this detail. Without a rigorous frame-by-frame analysis, who would notice such minutiae?

Old Tian chuckled with a hint of complacency and said, "At the beginning of the film, there is a statue of a woman with a broken arm in the female lead's home, but later in the film, it transforms into three women embracing one another. Without careful observation, one would certainly miss it."

In truth, when they were shooting, Old Tian himself had been utterly stunned by Cao Yang's arrangement.

Xie Fei recalled that there indeed seemed to be a female statue, but he had merely assumed it was meant to highlight the upscale tastes of the wealthy household. Now, it appeared there was a deeper intent.

"The initial female figure with the broken arm expresses how the female protagonist, subjected to domestic violence, was isolated and helpless, enduring her suffering alone. The subsequent replacement with three embracing female figures signifies that the community of abused women has begun to seek warmth and mutual aid from one another, also representing the female lead's awakening to resistance."

Seeing Xie Fei nod thoughtfully, Old Tian continued, "We can see in the film that the abuser—the female lead's husband—hits golf balls in the direction of the sculpture. This is a satire directed at the perpetrators of domestic violence."

Xie Fei nodded once more.

With a mischievous smile, Old Tian asked, "Elder Xie, do you suppose this statue carries any other meanings?"

Xie Fei began to ponder. Mikhalkov and Chabrol also fell into deep thought. Could there possibly be more metaphors?

All three shook their heads one after another, unable to conceive of any further hidden layers.

The metaphors already uncovered were astonishing enough; could there really be anything else?

Old Tian breathed a silent sigh of relief. Good, good, at least he wasn't a fool.

If veterans like Old Xie and Mikhalkov, who had won Golden Bears and Golden Lions, couldn't figure it out, then it was entirely normal that he hadn't guessed it either.

Old Tian recovered his confidence.

"Doesn't the posture of this sculpture remind you of that iconic scene later in the film, where the male lead, standing behind the female lead's husband, kisses her forehead while using his other hand to stroke her head?"

Mikhalkov's eyes lit up as he interjected, "A symmetrical echo."

Old Tian nodded with a mysterious smile, "And there is yet another layer of meaning."

"Still another?"

The men looked at each other in bewilderment. How many levels of symbolism could there possibly be? How could there still be more?

"It also mirrors the relationship between the male and female leads, separated as they are by the abuser in the middle—the female lead's husband."

"Oh, good God! There's even that layer of meaning? I wracked my brain and never would have thought of it. It's simply miraculous! Cao is truly extraordinary. A simple transformation of a statue can yield so many interpretations and metaphors. It's unbelievable..."

Chabrol behaved like a country bumpkin who had never seen the world, shouting in astonishment and showering Cao Yang with endless praise.

Xie Fei felt even more unbalanced inside. Such an exceptional student—why had that old fraud Situ snatched him up first? What a pity, an absolute pity!

And it wasn't just Xie Fei and the other two; every single person in this small screening room was currently struck dumb with awe.

The subtle transformation of a tiny statue had been played with such profound ingenuity.

What was a genius?

This, damn it, was a genius!