Chapter 58: Defeating Hollywood

By mid-August, Director Zhang announced the official start of production for his film *Hero*, instantly capturing widespread attention.

This was by far the largest-budgeted domestic film in China, reaching 30 million US dollars—amounting to a staggering 248 million RMB, an astronomical figure that was hard to fathom at the dawn of the new millennium.

It was also Director Zhang’s first foray into what he himself proclaimed as a "blockbuster industrial film."

Unfortunately, Li Xiaoran ultimately lost out to International Zhang. Director Zhang had compromised in the end, choosing International Zhang, who possessed greater fame in the United States.

There was no help for it; the pressure to recoup the film's massive investment was simply too high, forcing them to rely heavily on the American market.

When Li Xiaoran called Cao Yang last month to break the news, she didn't sound particularly devastated.

She mentioned that Director Zhang had spoken with her privately, explained the difficulties he faced, and promised that she would unquestionably be his first choice for his next film.

His next film?

Director Zhang’s next project would presumably be *House of Flying Daggers*. What a coincidence that would be; if Li Xiaoran wanted the role when the time came, her biggest competitor would likely still be International Zhang.

That matter was still too far off, and who could predict what might happen in the interim?

Right up until the eve of the film festival, Marco Müller had only indicated that there was hope, yet still provided no definitive confirmation.

On August 29, the Venice Film Festival officially opened. Liu Ye and Yu Feihong arrived in Venice a day early, accompanied on the same day by Hong Kong's Lawrence Ng and his manager.

As a major supporting actor who ran through the entire narrative of the film, given that the "Big Three" European film festivals lacked a Best Supporting Actor category, his performance could actually be submitted for consideration in the Best Actor category.

The evening before the opening ceremony, the group gathered for dinner.

Lawrence Ng’s manager was exceptionally enthusiastic, endlessly thanking Cao Yang for giving his artist this opportunity and declaring that henceforth, at a single word from Cao Yang, regardless of the role, they would arrive at a moment's notice.

Not long after returning to the hotel, Yu Feihong came to Cao Yang's room.

Initially, both maintained a veneer of propriety, for having been apart for so long, they couldn't possibly throw themselves into bed the absolute second they met.

Then, after exchanging a few casual remarks, whether prompted by one or the other, they quickly found themselves locked in an embrace as their clothes steadily vanished—being adult men and women, what else was there to do upon reuniting? This method remained the most effective way to shatter the distance accumulated during a period of separation.

...

On August 29, the 58th Venice International Film Festival commenced on the picturesque island of the Lido in Italy.

The procedures of the European Big Three film festivals were largely similar. On the opening day, stars and guests would walk the red carpet—the traditional opening ritual of the festival and the primary focus of attention for both media and audiences.

How does one gauge the influence of a film festival?

One simply had to count the "stars" present on opening day. The greater the number of stars and the higher their stature, the higher the festival's visibility and influence would be.

In this regard, at the turn of the millennium, the Cannes Film Festival and the Venice Film Festival had pursued divergent paths.

While the Cannes Film Festival remained predominantly focused on art house cinema, it did not reject commercial films outright—or more bluntly, it did not shun the encroachment of Hollywood, selectively embracing some while occasionally bestowing awards upon Hollywood productions.

The Venice Film Festival was precisely the opposite. Famed for its innovation and radical stance, it spurned commercial cinema and rejected Hollywood movies—nearly every president of the Venice Film Festival held a deep aversion to Hollywood.

And yet, they would still award a prize to a Hollywood film from time to time; the Italians were exceedingly well-practiced in playing both sides.

This year's edition was even more absurd, having shouted an unexpected slogan: "Down with the Hollywood imperialist empire!"

This declaration paradoxically became the central motif of the festival.

Yet, ironically, Venice this year managed to lure a massive contingent of Hollywood stars, ranging from Nicole Kidman to Helen Hunt.

Steven Spielberg arrived with *A.I. Artificial Intelligence*, Woody Allen brought his latest work *The Curse of the Jade Scorpion*, and John Carpenter presented *Ghosts of Mars*, among others.

With such heavyweights in attendance, nearly every hotel on the Lido was fully booked, forcing the organizers to lease a cruise ship just to accommodate the overflow.

Therefore, while the Italians shouted slogans against Hollywood, they simultaneously welcomed Hollywood films into various competitive sections. Why on earth did they do this?

Out of the twenty films selected for the main competition this year, four were from Hollywood.

Alejandro Amenábar’s *The Others*.
Larry Clark’s *Bully*.
Richard Linklater’s *Waking Life*.
Alfonso Cuarón’s *Y Tu Mamá También*.

It was truly fucking absurd, but considering this was Italy, one could only accept it with a sigh; perhaps they were playing some grand, inscrutable chess game.

Although Cao Yang had recently claimed two Silver Bears in Berlin and enjoyed a modest reputation in Europe, compared to the global superstars hailing from Hollywood, his renown paled by comparison.

What left Cao Yang even more speechless was that some brilliant mastermind had arranged the *3-Iron* crew's appearance right after *The Others*.

Who was the lead actress of *The Others*? Nicole Kidman!

Back in February of that year, her announcement of a divorce from Tom Cruise had generated a sensation, with news coverage dominating the headlines for months.

Then, following the May release of her musical romance film *Moulin Rouge!*, reports sensationalizing her divorce from Tom Cruise had suddenly dwindled.

In a sense, she had managed to capitalize on Tom Cruise's name yet again.

On the red carpet, the media's attention was entirely monopolized by Nicole Kidman.

When Cao Yang and his team stepped onto the red carpet, the camera angles afforded to them were pitifully sparse, resulting in yet another desolate red carpet stroll.

The good news was that several domestic media outlets had made the trip.

After finishing with Nicole Kidman, they could at least manage a few snapshot frames of Cao Yang and his team—clutching at straws, but better than nothing.

The opening film of this year's Venice festival was Milcho Manchevski’s *Dust*, which had not entered the main competition.

Presumably, the film possessed the caliber to enter the main competition, but with the twenty slots already filled, it was offered the opening slot as a form of compensation.

As soon as they finished walking the red carpet, Old Tian sought him out.

"What is it?"

Seeing the expression on Old Tian's face, Cao Yang knew something was up.

Old Tian pulled Cao Yang into an empty corner and whispered, "Didn't Venice just introduce a new Cinema of the Present section this year? The Best Film award in that section can also be awarded a Golden Lion. Old Ma wants to know if you want to take that one."

Cao Yang fell silent. The Cinema of the Present was a newly minted competitive section created that year, spearheaded entirely by Venice Film Festival President Alberto Barbera.

The original intent was to boost the competitiveness of the Venice Film Festival while leaving a distinctive personal mark before his impending departure.

Regrettably, while the notion sounded promising, it failed to gain universal validation; this section would be canceled the following year without making even a ripple.

"Doesn't that section have its own separate film nominations? We didn't enter that section to begin with; I heard those films were all eliminated from the main competition," Cao Yang said diplomatically.

"If you want the Best Film award for that section, they have plenty of ways to arrange it—you don't need to worry about that. As long as you're willing, you can secure the Best Film of the Cinema of the Present section, which is also a Golden Lion," Old Tian stated.

"So you're saying Barbera has already compromised?"

"More or less."

"Then why the fuck would I go and participate in that bullshit section? Even if I get a Golden Lion, it's not from the main competition; it carries zero influence. Who outside of here would recognize it?"

Cao Yang smiled, his resolve hardening. "Since he has already compromised, let's gamble. Let's see if he compromises all the way or stubbornly sticks to his guns."