Rebirth of Chinese Entertainment from the Oscars

In November 1998, a letter from Italy was delivered to the Beijing Film Academy.

Su Chen's short film "Black Hole" was shortlisted for the short film competition at the 55th Venice International Film Festival.

The news caused a sensation throughout the Beijing Film Academy. A freshman, only a little over a month into his studies, had his work shortlisted for one of the three major European film festivals? It was simply unbelievable.

But the most sensational part was yet to come.

September 1999, Lido Island, Venice. Su Chen and Professor Hou Keming flew to Italy together. This was his first time setting foot on European soil since his rebirth. The Palais des Festivals, the red carpet, filmmakers and media from all over the world... In his previous life, he walked the Oscars red carpet in 2024, but back then he was just a nominee who was not even a runner-up, and no one cared about the name of a director who was just a tool.

This time, he brought his work with him, and he stood on the competition stage.

The awards ceremony for the short film section was much more low-key than that for the main competition, but it was no less significant. When the presenter announced "Black Hole, Dan Su, China," Su Chen, sitting in the audience, clenched his fist.

He rose, walked through the applause, and onto the stage. The spotlight shone on his young face; his 16-year-old Eastern features drew a murmur of astonishment from the European filmmakers in the audience.

"Thank you to the Venice Film Festival and the jury," he said in fluent English, his voice soft but clear and strong. "This is a story about greed. But it can also be about many other things. That's the beauty of film—a hundred people watching the same story can see a hundred different meanings. I will continue to make films, thank you."

Golden Lion Award for Best Short Film

When the news reached China, the Beijing Film Academy was in an uproar. Major media outlets flocked to the story, with headlines like "Beijing Film Academy Freshman Wins International Award" and "Sixteen-Year-Old Prodigy Director Conquers Venice" flooding the media. Su Chen, however, didn't linger in the media frenzy for long. He gave a few necessary interviews before quickly returning to his classes and creative work.

Because his next short film is already in preparation.

The Tuner.

Su Chen's ambitions don't stop there. He won the Golden Lion for Best Short Film at Venice; he wants to win another trophy on another front.

  

Cannes.

During the winter break of 1999, Su Chen spent almost all of his time filming.

"The Tuner" tells the story of a piano tuner who pretends to be blind. One day, he receives a job tuning pianos at a home. Upon entering, he finds a middle-aged man sitting in the living room, a knife stuck in his chest, already dead. The woman of the house stands behind him, scrutinizing him with a critical gaze. He must continue to play the blind man, pretending not to see anything, maintaining composure on the verge of death.

The suspense and psychological pressure of this story are almost perfect for a short film. Su Chen spent more time casting and setting up the set. The male lead's inner monologue is very important, and he had high requirements for the actors. In the end, he borrowed a senior from the school's acting department to play the role.

Filming took four days. Post-production was much more complex than for "The Black Hole," and Su Chen put a lot of effort into the sound design—in the world of the blind, sound is everything. The sound of the sound engineer's fingers touching the piano keys, the rhythm of the female lead's high heels tapping on the floor as she walks, the sound of the male lead's Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows... all these details are weapons for creating tension.

After watching the rough cut, Hou Keming only said one sentence: "I've already made contact with Cannes for you."

In May 1999, Su Chen's "The Tuner" was shortlisted for the short film competition at the 52nd Cannes International Film Festival.

This time, he was no longer a surprise newcomer, but a highly anticipated contender. The Cannes Film Festival places even greater emphasis on its short film section than Venice, and the Palme d'Or for Best Short Film is widely recognized in the industry as prestigious.

On the night of the awards ceremony, Su Chen, dressed in a well-fitting black suit, sat in the Lumière Hall. Hou Keming, sitting next to him, was even more nervous than him, his palms sweating profusely.

"Best Short Film Palme d'Or—" The presenter opened the envelope, smiling as he read out the name, "The Tuner, Dan Su, China!"

The audience erupted in applause.

Su Chen stood up, turned around, and gave Professor Hou Keming a tight hug. The old professor's eyes were glistening with tears as he patted Su Chen's back, unable to speak.

The path to the podium was only a few dozen meters long, but Su Chen walked steadily. He accepted the golden palm leaf-shaped trophy and faced the hundreds of filmmakers from all over the world below the stage.

"Two months ago, I stood on the podium in Venice and said I would continue making films." His voice carried throughout the hall through the microphone. "Today, standing on the podium in Cannes, I want to say that short films are just the prologue. My first feature film is already on its way."

A knowing laugh and even more enthusiastic applause erupted from the audience.

"The most talented new star in the directing department in the history of Beijing Film Academy" - this evaluation is not a title bestowed by the media, but a consensus reached by several highly respected senior professors within the academy at a teaching conference.

In June 1999, after the final exams of the second semester of his freshman year, Su Chen was called to Hou Keming's office alone.

"What have you been writing about lately?" the old professor asked, getting straight to the point.

Su Chen didn't hide anything, taking out a thick stack of manuscript paper from his bag and placing it on the table. The title page had three words written on it—"Black Coal, Thin Ice".

Hou Keming put on his reading glasses and turned the pages one by one. The story is set in an industrial city in the north, featuring a down-on-his-luck retired criminal police officer, a cold dismemberment case, and a vague emotion amidst the cold reality... The story is hard and restrained, yet beneath its cold surface, a scorching undercurrent surges.

"This is the foundation of an art film." Hou Keming put down the script, his expression serious. "But are you sure you want to use this as your feature film debut? Art films have almost no market in China. You've won two short film awards; you could easily make a more commercially viable film."

"I've thought about it," Su Chen said, "but I still want to shoot this first. There will be plenty of opportunities for commercial films later."

Hou Keming looked at him for a long time, and finally nodded slowly: "Okay. But there's one thing—I've read your script, it's very good. But there's a huge gap between a good script and a good movie. What you learned in school isn't enough. You need practical experience, you need to see how real top directors work on set."

Su Chen listened attentively without interrupting.

"I have some connections with director Zhang Yimou," Hou Keming said. "He's currently preparing a new film, 'The Road Home.' If you'd like, I can recommend you to his crew as an intern. You won't need to do any work; you'll just follow Director Zhang around and observe how he shoots. See how his shots come about, how he directs the actors, and how he handles details."

Su Chen's heart skipped a beat. Zhang Yimou.

In his past life, he had certainly studied all of Zhang Yimou's films, writing hundreds of thousands of words of in-depth analysis. But studying them and witnessing a master creating on set are two completely different things. Especially in this era, Zhang Yimou is at the beginning of his creative peak. After "The Road Home" comes "Hero," and he will personally usher in the era of commercial blockbusters in Chinese cinema.

"Thank you, teacher. I'm more than happy to do so." Su Chen stood up and bowed deeply to Hou Keming.

The old professor waved his hand: "Don't thank me. Your own abilities speak for themselves. I'm just opening another door for you. Go on, study hard. When you come back from Director Zhang's film crew, you can film your 'Black Coal, Thin Ice'."

That night, Su Chen rode his bicycle home, passing through the familiar Soviet-style buildings in the Beijing Film Studio compound, where the streetlights cast long shadows of the sycamore trees.

He looked up at the night sky.

In Beijing in 1999, there was no smog in the air. Although the Milky Way was not as clearly visible as it is on the plateau, a few bright stars could still be vaguely seen.

Everything has just begun.