Reborn in the Chinese Entertainment Industry: You're a Director, But You're a Casanova?

studio.

Liu Xiaoli proudly showed off the second-hand video camera she had rented after searching for a long time.

For some reason, she increasingly wanted to demonstrate her value in front of Director Niu.

Niu Yuehua glanced at it and curled his lip in disdain.

"This thing is only good for making a short film for a school." He then called Director Huang.

He didn't go to the Central Academy of Drama to threaten them in person because a taxi would cost at least 20 yuan, and a phone call would cost at most 20 cents.

A few seconds later, the call was connected. Director Huang lowered his voice, sounding like a frightened bird.

"Niu Yuehua, what else do you want to do? Don't go too far."

Niu Yuehua's tone was both polite and hypocritical.

"Oh, Director Huang, your voice sounds so strong, you must have had your stitches removed by now?"

"Well, here's the thing, my extracurricular practice is about to start filming, but my old camera can't capture the stunning beauty of you Central Academy of Drama students."

"I heard that your school recently bought four of Sony's latest digital HD cameras and Sennheiser's top-of-the-line microphones."

"You see, shouldn't you give our full support to this arts exchange between the two schools?"

Director Huang was so angry he was trembling.

"Why should I lend you, an outsider, my teaching equipment worth millions? And you even want four of them! If the school finds out, I'll go to jail."

Niu Yuehua's tone turned cold instantly, which startled Liu Xiaoli on the other side, who wondered to herself, "What is this little rascal planning to do now?"

"Borrowing equipment is against the rules, that's true."

"But if we don't lend the equipment, those high-resolution photos will be plastered all over the Central Academy of Drama's bulletin board tomorrow morning, which would be both a violation of discipline and a violation of the law."

"Director Huang, how many times do I have to remind you? I'm planning to live off you for the rest of my life by keeping this secret."

"You, as a leader, should be able to settle scores about going to jail and being disgraced much faster than I am, right?"

"If the equipment cannot be delivered to the underground parking garage of the commercial street by 8 a.m. tomorrow, I will personally deliver the photos to your wife."

"Watch your tone and attitude. I don't want to hear it again."

He heard Director Huang's heavy breathing and the sound of a cup hitting the ground on the other end of the phone. Niu Yuehua smiled slightly and hung up.

The next morning, a bread truck was parked in the underground garage.

Director Huang not only abused his power overnight to secretly transport out equipment worth millions of yuan, but also, fearing that Niu Yuehua would be dissatisfied, he even paid out of his own pocket 200 yuan for the transport fee.

Director Niu touched the expensive and beautiful camera and uttered a capitalist's lament.

Power is the most perfect free labor force in the world.

……

Wearing an ill-fitting security guard uniform, Huang Bo rubbed his hands and asked, "Director Niu, why doesn't this script even have any lines? I can't use my voice acting skills to my advantage."

Wang Baoqiang, also dressed in a cheap security guard uniform, was punching and stretching his legs wildly on the side.

"Director, are you planning to make a movie about a thief stealing a car? I'll kick the thief's kneecap with a whirlwind kick and take him down? That would definitely be an action movie, and I could become as famous as Jet Li."

Tong Yao, once the quintessential leading lady, now stands trembling in a corner, dressed in cheap cleaning clothes, too afraid to voice her opinions, only hoping to avoid being scolded. She knows all too well how terrifying the director she's working with is.

Niu Yuehua sneered, picked up a clod of dirt, and drew a large "田" (field) character on the cement pillar.

"You two newcomers, shut up and listen to the rules. You have no lines in this play, so you must remain absolutely silent."

"Huang Bo, in the top left corner of the screen, you are the day shift security guard, watching the surveillance cameras in the duty room."

"Top right corner of the screen, Baoqiang, you're the night shift security guard, patrolling the garage."

"You two exist on different timelines, but the footage is playing in sync."

"On the two screens below, you two switch roles. Huang Bo will patrol, and Baoqiang will watch the surveillance footage. Within the four-panel section, you two can never meet; you can only see each other's movements through the surveillance footage. You can only meet when you resign at the very end, understand?"

Wang Baoqiang was puzzled but impressed, Huang Bo seemed thoughtful, and Tong Yao was still trembling.

"Alright, Tong Yao, do whatever you want. Just occasionally go over and sweep the floor while Huang Bo is on patrol during the day, just to bother him a little."

Actually, the short film that originally won the award wasn't a four-panel format, but that was back in 2016.

Today, in 2002, trends and art appreciation abilities have changed 14 years later.

Niu Yuehua had no choice but to take a risk and make some unconventional changes.

Of course, this change may not be effective. But as long as he makes it to the finals, he still has off-the-books tactics he can use. Judges are human too, and they can be influenced.

……

The first few shoots were practically a car crash.

Wang Baoqiang, a novice boxer, was too tense when he punched, and accidentally kicked and shattered the fire escape glass.

Huang Bo twisted his body, trying to express his inner struggle, but ended up dancing like a middle-aged hooligan he used to perform in bars.

However, Tong Yao's movement was 2 seconds too early, blocking the crucial view of the surveillance camera.

Niu Yuehua grabbed a megaphone and started spewing nonsense. He disregarded artistic ethics and only engaged in personal attacks.

"Huang Bo, are you fucking horny? You're a security guard making 500 yuan a month and can't even afford rent, not a male prostitute in a nightclub."

"Wang Baoqiang, you're a beast of burden living in a basement, not Jet Li who starred in 'Shaolin Temple.' What good is your lousy boxing? Can it even make a hundred million at the box office?"

Seeing that the actors were on the verge of collapse and exhausted, Niu Yuehua waved his hand to let everyone rest.

The limits of mortals have been reached; now it is my turn, young demon of the Demon Sect, to dominate the ages.

Niu Yuehua cast two spells, then whispered to Huang Bo.

"Huang Bo, you're 28 years old and still singing in bars, with a face that will never let you be a leading actor. Are you content with that? That you'll only ever be a supporting character?"

"Wang Baoqiang, pat your stomach. You've practiced martial arts for so many years, and you're still stuck eating steamed buns outside the Beijing Film Studio. This garage is your iron cage; don't you want to shatter this damn fate?"

……

The spell took effect, and all that remained in their eyes was a roar of defiance against fate.

Power on again.

Niu Yuehua did not ask Liu Xiaoli to be the instructor. Huang Boquan relied on his instincts and, under the pale lights, performed a desperate, comical, and bizarre dance like a marionette. Every movement revealed the bitterness of the lower class.

On the other side, Wang Baoqiang, like a wild beast, desperately threw punches between the supporting pillars, turning the martial arts fight into a desperate struggle.

Finally, the climax arrived.

Huang Bo, on the day shift, stared at Wang Baoqiang on the monitor screen, while Wang Baoqiang, on the night shift, turned to look at the camera in the corner. Their eyes met in the center of the four-panel screen, a fateful encounter, and a dance spanning day and night came to a perfect close.

"Card."

……

Two days later, most of the footage had been shot.

Everyone gathered in the studio to review the rough cut of the first half of the short film.

There is not a single line of dialogue in the scene.

The only sounds were dripping water, a car driving away, Tong Yao sweeping the floor as she passed by, the sound of their shoes rubbing against the ground, and their tired, heavy breathing.

The four-panel composition vividly portrays class segregation, spatial confinement, and the loneliness of being unable to communicate with others.

Tong Yao felt a chill run down her spine as she watched from the side. For the first time, she truly felt awe for the boy in front of her from an artistic perspective.

Just as Liu Xiaoli was about to act as a proper straight man and ask Niu Yuehua what the purpose of filming this scene was.

With a bang, the studio door was kicked open.

The man who entered was Mr. Wang, the general manager of AAA Coal Wholesale, and his mistress Mimi, whom he hadn't yet replaced. Several burly men followed behind them.

Mr. Wang no longer addressed him with the same intimacy as before, calling him "brother." He strode to the table, gritting his teeth.

"Niu Yuehua! I heard some rumors outside. I spent 200 million yuan of your hard-earned money, and you took it and filmed two ugly freaks doing a Yangko dance in this dilapidated basement garage."

"Damn it, trying to play dirty tricks on me, huh?"