Entertainment from Divorce

Half a month after its release, Interstellar has been like a continuously fermenting cosmic storm, and the craze it has stirred up in the global film market shows no signs of abating.

The $3 billion box office figure is displayed on the official website of the International Cultural Center.

The box office curve in the North American market remains strong. Although it has declined compared to the explosive growth of the opening week, the drop has been kept below 15%, far lower than the industry average of 30%.

In an interview, the manager of AMC Theatres in New York showed the screening schedule: "We allocated 70% of the prime time slots to 'Interstellar,' and the IMAX theaters were booked from 8 a.m. to midnight, and every show was still sold out."

The European market remains equally popular.

London science fiction fan groups even launched the "Black Hole Hiking Challenge," where participants wore hoodies with the movie's logo and hiked along the Thames River to the Greenwich Observatory, paying tribute to the scientific spirit depicted in the film.

The domestic market showed even stronger momentum, with the box office share in second- and third-tier cities rising from the initial 20% to 35%, proving that the film's influence is spreading to a wider range of regions.

In a county-level cinema, manager Lao Zhang couldn't stop smiling as he looked at the box office system: "In the past, audiences in the county preferred to watch comedies and action movies, and thought that science fiction movies were too brain-teasing. I never expected that Interstellar would be so popular. The tickets for the morning screenings were sold out. Many elderly people came with their grandchildren, leaning on their canes. When they left, they told their children, 'Study hard so that our country can build such spaceships in the future.'"

The cinema corridors were covered with handwritten messages from viewers. The words "Go China Science Fiction!" were crooked but conveyed the most sincere pride.

In stark contrast to the triumphant success of Interstellar, Red Planet was a complete failure.

In his luxurious office in Beverly Hills, Los Angeles, director Colin Firth vented his anger like a caged beast.

He swept the bronze trophy off the table, and the base of the trophy collided with the marble floor with a sharp, clattering sound, breaking into three pieces.

This is the Best New Director award he won ten years ago for his debut film.

Documents were scattered all over the floor, one of which was a lawyer's letter from the investors, the red seal resembling a bloodstain; a laptop was overturned on the carpet, its screen cracked like a spider web, still flashing the box office data for "Red Planet".

"Why?! Why did we lose so badly?!" Colin's voice was hoarse and shrill, his vocal cords sounding like they had been sanded, filled with resentment and despair.

He grabbed the crystal paperweight from the table and slammed it against the wall. The paperweight bounced back and grazed his forehead, leaving a bloody mark, but he was completely unaware of it.

"We have special effects done by Industrial Light & Magic! We have an Oscar-winning actor! Our budget is twice that of Interstellar! How can we lose to a lousy movie made by a Chinese director?!"

He rushed to the French windows, gripping the window frame tightly with both hands, his knuckles turning white from the force.

The Hollywood sign is right outside the window; the white letters are dazzling in the sunlight.

He has not given up for the past two weeks.

They attempted to turn the tide through frenzied publicity.

He appeared on every talk show, and the box office figures were like poisoned knives piercing his heart.

The global box office of "Red Planet" ultimately stopped at $150 million, less than a fraction of "Interstellar", and $80 million of that was earned through pre-release publicity on the opening day.

The film has been pulled from theaters across North America, its screening rate in the European market has dropped to 0.3%, the investor's stock price has fallen by 15%, and the board of directors has stated that he will have to bear all the losses.

On his phone, his agent's text message read, "All projects are suspended."

"Tan Yue! You bastard!" Colin suddenly shouted at the air, his voice filled with resentment, spittle flying onto the expensive floor-to-ceiling windows.

Outside the office door, secretary Amy stood there, the coffee in her hand already cold.

Listening to Colin's hysterical shouts inside, she couldn't help but sneer inwardly, her fingertips unconsciously digging into the handle of the coffee cup, tearing a hole in the paper sleeve.

She has worked here for five years, following Colin since he was filming "The Martian," witnessing his transformation from high spirits to his current hysteria.

Back then, he would squat on the set and eat sandwiches with the crew, but now he gets furious even if his assistant hands him the wrong coffee.

Anyone can see Tan Yue's talent; he has proven himself with one film after another, and his works have grossed over 10 billion US dollars worldwide.

Last week, when Amy was organizing her materials, she came across an internal document that stated that whenever Tan Yue's movies were released, other major films would automatically avoid the release schedules of the five major Hollywood studios for at least a month.

A film company's distribution director put it bluntly in an email: "To clash with Tan Yue's release? That's suicidal."

Only Colin, of all people, insisted on staging accidents.

At the press conference, he arrogantly told the camera that he would "show Tan Yue what a real science fiction movie is," and also said that "Chinese people can't make hard science fiction, they can only talk about trivial family matters."

Amy was in the audience at the time and saw the reporters exchanging awkward glances.

Now look what happened! His attempt to steal a chicken backfired spectacularly; not only was the film a complete flop, but his reputation is also utterly ruined. He's been named "the most unsuccessful director of the year," and netizens have given him the nickname "box office black hole."

Amy shook her head, turned and left the office.

The clock in the corridor pointed to five o'clock, and the golden light of the setting sun shone through the glass curtain wall, casting long shadows on the ground.

In the president's office of Brilliant Entertainment, Tan Yue was sitting on the sofa, carefully reviewing the latest data on "Interstellar" both domestically and internationally that Engineer Wu had handed him.

A thick stack of data reports was organized and categorized using colored folders.

Blue represents the North American market, red represents Europe, yellow represents the domestic market, and green represents other regions.

Each folder contains detailed records of the film's box office, screening rate, audience reviews, and social media discussion volume in various regions, with key data highlighted next to the charts.

Tan Yue's finger lightly traced the numbers on the report, pausing briefly at the "3 billion" mark, a satisfied smile appearing on his lips.

This result far exceeded his initial expectations.

This is not just a commercial success, but also the best reward for his and his entire team's hard work.

He remembered the special effects team leader who had gone bald from working on the black hole shot, he remembered Deng Gaofei filming in the desert at minus twenty degrees Celsius wearing only a thin shirt, and he remembered the sound engineer traveling to seven deserts to record the perfect wind sound...

These numbers represent the hard work and dedication of countless people.

Wu's eyes gleamed with excitement: "Although the amount of discussion on domestic social media has declined compared to its peak, it still occupies the top spots on the trending lists of major platforms, and the cumulative readership of related topics has exceeded 200 billion."

Tan Yue nodded, naturally extremely satisfied with this result.

But he also knew that achievements only represented the past, and there was still a long road ahead. He picked up the tea on the table and took a sip; it was his usual Biluochun tea, and the aroma spread across his tongue.

"It's been half a month since the film was released, and the hype has indeed dropped slightly, which is normal," Tan Yue said, his tone calm but confident.

Just like people, movies can't stay in a state of excitement forever.

Even so, it is still incomparable to the other fourteen films released at the same time.

The second-place team's box office revenue was less than a third of ours, which shows that the audience's approval was genuine.

“Mr. Tan is right,” Mr. Wu echoed, a look of admiration on his face. “We have already formulated the next promotional plan to further boost box office revenue.”

“Okay, let’s continue the promotion as planned,” Tan Yue said, his gaze falling on the sky outside the window, where a few white clouds drifted by slowly. “But we need to be careful not to over-exploit the audience’s enthusiasm. We’re making movies, and ultimately, it’s the work that speaks for itself.”

"Understood." Engineer Wu nodded, picked up the report, turned and left the office, his steps light and firm.

After Wu Gong left, Tan Yue turned on his computer and browsed the netizens' reviews of "Interstellar".

He didn't read the professional film reviews, but instead clicked on the comments section of ordinary viewers.

The comments were varied and diverse, like a bustling market:

“I brought my grandpa here today. He’s a retired astronomy teacher. After looking at it, he said, ‘This black hole is drawn correctly, and the gravitational lensing effect has been shown.’ He even said he would explain relativity to me, haha.”

"After watching it three times, I realized that Deng Gaofei's acting skills are amazing! When he said goodbye to his daughter, his Adam's apple moved slightly, which meant he wanted to say 'I'm sorry' but couldn't say it. I was instantly moved to tears."

"As an aerospace engineer, I have to rave about the details! The attitude control during spacecraft docking perfectly matches the actual process, even the thruster ejection angle is correct!"

"After watching the movie, I took my son to the science museum. He said he wanted to be an astronaut when he grew up, and the old mother shed tears of joy."

Looking at these enthusiastic comments, Tan Yue felt a surge of warmth and pride.

These comments, though lacking in flowery language, moved him more than any professional award.

Because they prove that this film truly touched the hearts of the audience.

Although it has only been released for half a month, the film has already achieved great success.

It has not only achieved brilliant commercial success, but also had a profound cultural impact, allowing the world to see the strength of Chinese science fiction films and the ability of Chinese filmmakers to tell cosmic stories.

Tan Yue recalled every detail of the filming process.

All the effort has become meaningful at this moment.

He knew that Interstellar was just the beginning, and that he would make more and better films in the future to contribute to the development of Chinese cinema.

In an office of the artist management department, Deng Gaofei was sitting on the sofa, intently reading a book titled "The Stanislavski System of Acting".

Sunlight streamed through the window, casting a golden glow on his face and softening even the fine lines around his eyes.

The success of Interstellar made him an overnight sensation.

His phone is flooded with text messages every day with offers for films and business opportunities. His agent says he currently has 37 scripts waiting for him to read, including some big-budget productions for leading roles.

But he wasn't blinded by fame and fortune. Instead, he put his phone on silent and locked it in a drawer.

He was not complacent because of the current box office results; on the contrary, he became more aware of his shortcomings.

Last night, he watched his performance clip again and found that his emotional handling was not subtle enough in several places, especially when he shouted "Murphy" in the five-dimensional space. His voice was a bit too forceful and he could have been more restrained.

He knew that this success was largely due to Tan Yue's excellent script and the efforts of the entire team. He also knew that his acting skills still had a lot of room for improvement and that he couldn't stop just because of one success.

"These are a few scripts we just received. Take a look and see if any of them interest you," the agent said as he entered.

Deng Gaofei looked up, smiled, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes rippled like water: "Put it there, I'll read this book first."

His finger lightly tapped on a page that read, "There are no small roles, only small actors."

“By the way,” the agent said, a hint of excitement in his voice, “the Venice Film Festival has extended an invitation to you, hoping you can attend the closing ceremony and give you a Best Actor nomination, which will be very helpful for you to expand into the international market.”

Deng Gaofei thought for a moment and said, "Let's decline for now. I want to focus on improving my acting skills recently, so I enrolled in an acting training class, which starts next week. I don't want to participate in too many activities for the time being, so as not to be distracted."

He recalled Tan Yue saying, "An actor's vitality lies in the role, not the red carpet."

The agent nodded: "Okay, I'll do as you say."

Deng Gaofei lowered his head again and continued reading.

His eyes were firm and determined, as if he were pursuing a distant and great goal.

He knew that Interstellar had given him a great platform, and he had to cherish this opportunity, work hard, and make continuous progress in order to live up to the audience's expectations, Tan Yue's trust, and his own love for acting.

Deng Gaofei was completely immersed in his own world, as if he were isolated from the outside world.

He knew that only by constantly improving himself could he gain a foothold in the fiercely competitive entertainment industry, create more excellent works like "Interstellar," and become an actor who would truly be remembered by the audience.

As the sun sets, golden sunlight bathes the entire city, turning the glass facade of the Brilliant Entertainment Company into a warm orange-red.

The popularity of "Interstellar" continues, shining like a bright star and illuminating the future of Chinese cinema.

The success of Interstellar is not only a miracle, but also a signal that Chinese films are going global and telling Chinese stories with their own voice.

And all this has just begun.

As the movie says, "We used to look up at the stars and contemplate our place in the universe; now, we just look down and worry about where we'll find a foothold in the dust." (End of Chapter)