Entertainment from Divorce

The mornings in Los Angeles are always shrouded in a thin mist, as if veiling this movie city in a hazy mist.

But Colin Firth's office was like a fireball had been thrown in; it was hot and chaotic, filled with the burnt smell of spilled coffee and the cold light of shattered crystal.

He stared intently at the box office charts of the International Cultural Center on the computer screen, his knuckles turning white from gripping the mouse so tightly, and cold sweat seeping from between his fingers dripping down the keyboard, leaving tiny watermarks on the black keys.

The name "Red Planet" was huddled at the very bottom of the list; that glaring "15" felt like a red-hot iron, burning his vision.

With a box office of only eight million dollars on its opening day, less than a fraction of Interstellar's, it firmly ranked at the bottom among the fifteen films released at the same time, like an abandoned child.

"That's impossible!" Colin slammed the laptop to the ground. The crisp sound of the aluminum alloy casing hitting the marble floor startled the sparrows outside the window, which fluttered up and crashed against the glass with a dull thud.

The computer screen cracked into a spiderweb pattern on the carpet, and those intersecting cracks reflected his distorted face, cutting his anger and resentment into pieces.

"We have a top-notch special effects team! The chief designer from Industrial Light & Magic is personally in charge! We have an Oscar-winning actor on board! We spent 20 million on his salary! How could we lose to a piece of rubbish sci-fi made by a Chinese director?"

He swept the crystal trophy on his desk into the corner.

That was the Best Director award he won three years ago for "The Martian," and the gold name engraved on the base gleamed coldly in the morning light.

But now it shattered into pieces, the fragments scattering around the coffee machine, leaving tiny scratches on the stainless steel surface, as if mocking his disheveled state.

The assistant spilled freshly brewed Blue Mountain coffee on the Italian leather sofa. The brown liquid dripped down the expensive crocodile-patterned fabric, leaving ugly stains like congealed blood.

"Publicity! We need more publicity!"

Colin tugged at his blond hair, his knuckles turning white from the force, his voice hoarse like sandpaper rubbing against a rusty iron plate.

"Have the PR team contact all the media outlets. I want to tell the world that *Red Planet* is the real hard science fiction! Those who like *Interstellar* are just ignorant idiots!"

His agent hesitated on the other end of the phone, his voice like a squeezed balloon: "Colin, it's no use... The audience's feedback is all about 'pile up special effects,' 'hollow plot,' and 'wasting an Oscar-winning actor's talent.' The extra three million we spent on promotion didn't even make a ripple on social media; the comments section is full of sarcastic remarks like 'Why not just go see Star Trek again'..."

"Shut up!" Colin roared as he slammed the phone down, slamming the receiver against the wall, cracking the plastic casing.

He grabbed the script from the table and slammed it against the wall. The words "Red Planet" on the script cover were dented, and the gold lettering peeled off, just like his crumbling confidence at that moment.

He recalled the harsh words he had uttered to reporters three months ago: "Tan Yue? He's just a director of romance films, what does he know about science fiction? Does he even know the gravitational acceleration on Mars?"

Now those words are like boomerangs, whistling through the wind, piercing his heart and causing him unbearable pain.

With trembling hands, he opened social media. The hashtag #RedPlanetFallsDown# had already climbed to the seventeenth spot on the trending topics list, followed by a glaring "laughing" tag.

The comments from netizens were like poisoned needles, piercing his eyes one after another:
"The special effects are indeed amazing. You can see the details of the Martian surface and the texture of the rocks. But after watching it, it's like eating a fast food meal full of additives. It's bloated but not nutritious, and I still feel nauseous."

"Comparing it to Interstellar, I realized that good science fiction isn't about how cool the spaceships are or how loud the explosions are; it's about whether it can make you cry. My mom cried three times while watching Interstellar, but she was on her phone the whole time while watching this."

The most poignant comment came from an engineer at NASA's Jet Propulsion Laboratory, which has already garnered over 10,000 likes.

"As an engineer who participated in the Mars rover project, I can say responsibly: the calculation of the Martian atmospheric density is wrong, the physical form of the dust storm does not match the observation data at all, they are lazy even in the most basic settings, and they still dare to call themselves 'hardcore'? I suggest that director Colin Firth first read 'Introduction to Planetary Science'."

Colin slumped in his Italian-imported office chair, the leather seat creaking under the strain, the wheels scraping the floor with a harsh sound like fingernails scratching glass.

In order to release the film alongside Interstellar, he compressed the post-production cycle from six months to three months. The special effects team worked through the night, and the programmers were so exhausted that they had nosebleeds in front of their computers.

The script's flaws are covered up with "grand scenes," and the logical inconsistencies are comforted by the belief that "the audience won't notice."

The award-winning actor's lines were altered to be contradictory, which angered the veteran actor so much that he threw his script down...

At the time, he proudly told the producer, "The audience only cares about the special effects; who cares about the plot?"

Now I understand that what audiences want is never just flashy skills, but stories that resonate with them and people they can remember.

Outside the office door, the young script supervisor, Amy, clutched a folder, too scared to breathe, her back pressed tightly against the cold wall.

The vibration from the door made the folder in her hand tremble, and the plastic pages made a soft "clattering" sound. Inside was the application for reshoots of "Red Planet".

The visual effects supervisor just submitted it yesterday, saying that there were three shots with obvious physical logic errors, such as the incorrect calculation of the recoil force when the spaceship landed. Anyone with a discerning eye could tell it was fake, and they had to reshoot.

"It's all because I'm too eager for quick success," Amy muttered to herself, her fingertips unconsciously picking at the edge of the folder, leaving several white marks on the plastic.

She recalled that during their first script meeting, Colin dismissed Tan Yue's "The Truman Show" as worthless.

He was sitting with his legs crossed, tapping his fingers on the table: "Emotion? That's for art films. Sci-fi has to be explosive! It has to be exciting! It has to make the audience think 'Wow!' after watching it!"

But he forgot that The Truman Show grossed more worldwide than all his other films combined, and people were still talking about it years later, unlike his other films, which were forgotten after only two weeks of release.

Whispers from other staff members drifted down the hallway, their voices low but penetrating Amy's ears like mosquitoes:

"I heard Colin made the editor cry, but the script itself had problems; the logic didn't hold up at all. Even a genius couldn't edit it well..."

"What's scary isn't the fans, it's that the film is really well made—I went to see 'Interstellar' last night, and the whole theater applauded for almost ten minutes after the screening, which is rare even in Hollywood. The audience was truly moved."

Amy glanced furtively at the closed office door. She heard the sound of a glass shattering inside, followed by Colin's suppressed growl.

She sighed, then quietly left with the documents in her arms.

The reshoot request is probably unnecessary. The fate of this movie was already written from the day Colin decided to prioritize speed over quality. Like a novel with spoilers, turning the pages will only bring disappointment.

The morning light of the capital city shone through the gaps in the curtains, casting long, thin streaks of light on Wang Letian's desk.

Wang Letian picked up his electric toothbrush, and as the minty foam rose in his mouth, scenes from "Interstellar" replayed in his mind.

As Cooper said goodbye to his daughter, the yellow dress in the rearview mirror looked like a stubborn sunflower swaying in the wind.

In the five-dimensional space, there are countless overlapping studies, where time becomes a visible entity.

When elderly Murphy looked up and said, "It's Dad," his eyes shone like stars in his wrinkles...

These images are etched into my mind; every detail is worth pondering repeatedly, like a piece of candy in my mouth, becoming more and more delicious with each taste. "Let's watch it again."

After rinsing his mouth, he said to himself firmly, the water he spat out swirling in the sink.

After finishing the first draft last night, he felt like something was missing.

The Eastern philosophy hidden beneath the hardcore setting, such as the purple clay teapot in Cooper's spaceship, still brewing tea in space, represents a sense of stability amidst wandering.

For example, the calligraphy "Tranquility Leads to Far-Reaching Vision" in Murphy's room stands out against the apocalyptic background, representing composure amidst chaos.

These symbols are like codes, which need to be decoded again on the big screen to understand Tan Yue's thoughts hidden in the lens.

He opened the wardrobe and chose a gray trench coat.

This was his ritual when writing important film reviews; the fabric was already somewhat worn, and the cuffs had fine frayed edges, but it was ironed perfectly straight.

Inside the elevator, Wang Letian was scrolling through his phone.

The topic of watching "Interstellar" two or three times has spread, with the hashtag reaching over 500 million views. Netizens are sharing new discoveries, like they're on a treasure hunt.
"On my second viewing, I noticed that the Cooper spacecraft's designation is 'Tiangong-7,' a tribute to China's space program! A detail-oriented person's delight!"

"On Murphy's bookshelf was the Analects of Confucius, and the page he opened to read 'While parents are alive, one should not travel far.' It turns out the director had already planted the thread of 'filial piety,' no wonder Cooper insisted on going home in the end!"

"In the five-dimensional lens, there is a fleeting glimpse of a Spring Festival couplet. The first line is 'A new beginning,' and the second line is 'Everything is renewed.' It's so detailed! It hides the expectation of rebirth in the apocalypse!"

He recalled the ending of the first draft he had written the night before.

"The greatness of Interstellar lies not in its ability to bring Chinese science fiction to the world stage, but in its ability to show the world that in China's worldview, science and humanities are never opposed, and that exploring the stars and protecting our home are two sides of the same coin."

It now seems that further research is needed.

Every frame of this film speaks to the unique charm of "Chinese narrative," telling a cosmic romantic story with Eastern gentleness.

The cinema ticket collector recognized Wang Letian and handed him the 3D glasses with a smile. The lenses still had the smell of freshly opened plastic: "Teacher Wang is here for a second viewing? Many people brought their laptops to see it this morning. They all said they were so busy crying the first time that they didn't notice many details."

The screening room was already quite full, even more lively than yesterday's premiere, with the sweet aroma of popcorn and milk tea filling the air.

Several college students in the front row held up their cameras and took pictures of the opening space scenes on the screen, the sound of the shutters like fine raindrops.

The old man in the back row was wearing magnifying glasses and holding a "movie viewing tips" written by his grandson. The edges of the paper were curled up from being turned over.

As the lights dimmed, Wang Letian opened his notebook and twirled the pen between his fingers.

As Cooper's spacecraft broke through the atmosphere, the pale blue flames from its engines illuminated the screen. He quickly jotted down in his notebook: "Engine flame color—pale blue, consistent with liquid oxygen and methane fuel."

The sound of the pen nib gliding across the paper was as soft as breathing, as if afraid of disturbing this immersion.

The scene in the five-dimensional space brought tears to his eyes again. This time, he couldn't hold back and took out a tissue to wipe the corners of his eyes.

This time, he noticed the specific moment that Cooper was frantically searching for.

The calendar on the wall showed that it was Murphy's tenth birthday.

He missed the party because he was on a mission, and his daughter waited for him at the door all day.

I didn't notice this detail last night, but now it hits me like a hammer blow: it turns out that what I most wanted to travel back in time wasn't just to make up for the regret of saving the world, but to go back to that sunny afternoon and tell the little girl who was leaning on the door frame, "Daddy's back."

As the show ended, Wang Letian stood in front of the poster, looking at the way Cooper, played by Deng Gaofei, gazed at the Earth.

It contains longing, guilt, and the preciousness of something lost and then regained.

He suddenly understood why this movie could resonate with people from different cultural backgrounds.

The longing for family and the concern for home are universal human languages, as ubiquitous as the air we breathe.

Tan Yue's brilliance lies in using the subtlety of the East to hide this emotion within the shell of hard science fiction, like a zongzi (sticky rice dumpling). Only after peeling back the layers of leaves can you see the sweetest rice, soft and sticky, wrapped with the taste of home.

When Wang Letian returned home, he brewed a strong cup of tea. The tea leaves unfurled in the hot water, resembling tiny green stars.

Fingers danced across the keyboard, the tapping sounds particularly clear in the quiet office, like composing a poem about film.

The sunlight outside the window grew brighter and brighter, shining on his notebook, making the densely packed words seem to glow, each word carrying warmth.

"While Western science fiction is still grappling with the question of whether humanity is alone, Tan Yue has already provided an Eastern answer with 'Interstellar'."

He recalled Colin Firth's "Red Planet," a film filled with explosions and dazzling special effects, featuring spaceships crashing into Mars, robots fighting, and lava eruptions, yet it felt like an empty shell without a soul; all he remembered after watching it was how "noisy" it was.

Perhaps, this is the difference.

One is showing off "how strong we are," using special effects to create a false sense of power.

One is saying "Why did we set out?", using emotion to depict a genuine tenderness.

As the first draft was completed, the sky was already ablaze with the colors of sunset, and the orange-red light streamed in through the window, casting a warm glow on the computer screen.

Wang Letian rubbed his sore shoulders and titled the article "From Black Hole to Study: In Tan Yue's Universe, Love is the Hardest Science Fiction".

He knew that this article might not change anything, but at least it would help more people understand why Interstellar deserves to be watched and remembered repeatedly.
It is not just a movie, but the beginning of a nation's dialogue with the universe in its own way, gentle yet firm.

Wang Letian gazed at the starry sky outside the window. The city's light pollution couldn't obscure the brightest star; Sirius shone with a cool, clear light against the deep blue sky.

He recalled what Tan Yue said in an interview: "Movies are like stars. Some shine by reflecting light and riding on the coattails of others' popularity; others shine on their own, illuminating the night sky with sincerity and talent."

Clearly, *Interstellar* belongs to the latter category. And the Chinese film industry needs more stars like this. (End of Chapter)