Chapter 00162: Weinstein
# Weinstein
Chapter 162
Novel: 1979 Golden Age
Chapter 162: Weinstein
"China's first competition entry, *The Return of the Swallows*, has left audiences deeply disappointed. The film is filled with heavy-handed Chinese political themes and moralizing tones. I can't even understand the motivations of the characters... The authentic Eastern exoticism is the only thing worth watching."
"China claims to have opened up, but judging from this film, they are still stuck in the past."
"The director of *The Return of the Swallows* made a laughable statement. He seems like an old man frozen in time, completely unaware of the outside world."
"A very socialist film, utterly ordinary and devoid of surprises. It seems China's debut in Berlin will end empty-handed."
The next morning.
Fang Yurong sat in the restaurant, frantically flipping through the festival program and newspapers, her face alternating between red and pale.
The media had mercilessly mocked their performance, with the most polite comment being, "Chinese cinema still has a long way to go."
*The Return of the Swallows* was her choice.
While returning empty-handed wouldn't draw criticism, it was still a personal embarrassment.
She couldn't bring herself to tell Fu Jingong either.
He was a straightforward man and wouldn't be able to handle this.
"Huh?"
Fang Yurong flipped through the newspapers again and suddenly froze, thinking she must have misread.
This was a newspaper dedicated to showcasing commercial films at the festival.
The front page featured a large image, with the bold title *Tai Chi* impossible to miss, and the headline even more eye-catching:
"The most entertaining commercial film at Berlin this year!"
The article was full of praise, and Fang Yurong felt her heart racing.
She quickly searched for related reports, and to her surprise, there were quite a few.
"China hasn't contributed much to global cinema, but Kung Fu is one of them!"
"Nine standing ovations broke records, with frenzied audiences running out of the theater shouting at passersby!"
"Poor promotion led to only one screening, leaving fans dissatisfied. After yesterday's screening of *Tai Chi*, word of mouth spread rapidly through the festival. Those who missed it are demanding more screenings!"
"*The Return of the Swallows* and *Tai Chi* come from the same country and appeared in Berlin simultaneously. This is the most fascinating contrast of the year."
Fang Yurong felt a strange sensation creeping up her spine, not entirely one of joy.
"Is *Tai Chi* really that popular?"
"What was its box office in Hong Kong? Chen Qi hasn't told me yet!"
"If foreigners truly love it, maybe China Film Group can export it..."
Fang Yurong's spirits lifted.
China Film Group handled all domestic and international distribution for Chinese films—except for Hong Kong. *The Return of the Swallows* was clearly a flop, but if *Tai Chi* could be properly promoted, it could be a major achievement.
With that thought, she abandoned her breakfast and stood up to find Chen Qi and Li Wenhua.
Just as she got up, Hadel hurried in and immediately asked, "Where are the creators of *Tai Chi*? I need to meet them!"
"What's the matter, Mr. Chairman?"
"*Tai Chi* has received incredible reviews! Some fans are negotiating with us, hoping to add more screenings. Where are they?"
"They should be upstairs. I'll take you there!"
The two hurried upstairs but couldn't find anyone, only Gong Xue was there.
"Xiao Gong, where are they?"
"Li Lianjie insisted on going shopping, so Xiao Chen took him and Director Li out."
"Do you know where they went?"
"I'm not sure. I'm not familiar with Berlin," Gong Xue replied honestly.
"Oh no, this is going to cause trouble!"
Fang Yurong was frantic, and a vague sense of foreboding crept over her.
…………
"Five thousand dollars! Mr. Chen, we really can't go any higher!"
In a secluded room at Fu Qi's residence, a film distributor from Myanmar was practically begging.
Despite being small, poor, and chaotic, Myanmar had a thriving film industry, producing around 70 films a year, with 400 cinemas nationwide.
They loved family dramas, supernatural tales, and martial arts films.
"Fine, let's sign the contract!"
Chen Qi sighed.
There wasn't much profit to be squeezed from such a country, and it wasn't like the future northern Myanmar.
"Thank you! Thank you!"
"Next!"
Li Wenhua sat dumbly to the side, while a translator from Great Wall stood nearby.
Li Lianjie stood guard at the door, watching as Chen Qi conducted business.
A South Korean distributor entered.
By this time, Park Chung-hee had passed away, and Chun Doo-hwan had become president.
South Korean cinema was gradually opening up in the 1980s, beginning to engage in international exchanges.
This year at Berlin, director Im Kwon-taek had brought *Mandala* to compete for the Golden Bear.
"Three hundred thousand dollars!"
Chen Qi knew how much South Koreans loved Li Lianjie.
Although *Tai Chi* was the first of its kind, he didn't want to sell it cheaply and quoted a relatively high price for the time.
"That's too much! We can't accept that!"
"You've seen how popular *Tai Chi* is in Berlin. We have no shortage of buyers. Three hundred thousand is the final offer. You have one day to decide."
"Next!"
A Japanese distributor entered.
The Japanese were wealthy now, so Chen Qi couldn't treat them like the South Koreans.
He immediately asked for one million dollars.
The Japanese man was shocked and said, "Absolutely impossible! We've never spent that much to import a film. We can't afford the risk of a loss."
"You can afford it. One million is more than fair."
"Are you joking? I don't see your sincerity. Sino-Japanese relations are friendly, and we hope to build a bridge through cinema, but your price might harm that friendship."
Chen Qi rolled his eyes.
"Don't play dumb with me. Times are changing, and so are film distribution models. For example..."
He went on for a while, and the Japanese man's expression shifted between uncertainty and surprise, as if his thoughts had been exposed.
He finally said, "We need to consider this!"
"One day!"
"Next!"
Weinstein, dressed in a suit with an unkempt beard, entered and looked around, smiling.
"Chen, we meet again! Why are you conducting business in such a place? Let's go for a drink instead."
"I'm not interested right now. Are you here to discuss the overseas rights for *Tai Chi*? Let's get straight to the point."
"Oh, alright then!"
Weinstein placed his hands on the table, his demeanor relaxed.
Despite running a small company, he carried himself like a major studio executive.
"My distribution channels in the U. S. might not match the traditional Hollywood giants, but in the independent film world, I'm quite well-known. I also have connections with theaters in the UK, France, and Australia... If you hand over all overseas rights to me, I'll give you a satisfactory price."
"Sorry, but you can only discuss North American rights."
"That's a shame. *Tai Chi* is a great film. I think it has the potential to surpass *Enter the Dragon*. Since you're only willing to discuss North American rights..."
Weinstein put on a show, lowering his head in thought before looking up and saying, "How about two million dollars?"
Two million dollars?!
Li Wenhua, Li Lianjie, and the translator all trembled, their eyes blazing as they looked at Chen Qi, wishing they could accept on his behalf.
"..."
Chen Qi gave a half-smile, feigning surprise.
"Are you sure about two million?"
"Of course!"
"We can sign the contract right now!"
"Ha, Chen! You're too eager. Two million isn't a small sum. We need to prepare carefully... How about this: give me two days, and I'll contact you as soon as the contract is ready."
"Well, that works. But hurry, we might be returning to China in a few days."
"Don't worry!"
Weinstein smiled even more warmly upon hearing they might leave soon.
Before departing, he gave Chen Qi a hearty hug, as if they were sworn brothers.
Outside the hotel.
His assistant asked, puzzled, "Boss, are we really going to give him two million dollars? The risk is too high."
"Look at those Chinese. They might as well have pigtails on the back of their heads. What do they know?"
Weinstein's disdain was palpable.
"I offered him a price he can't refuse to scare off the competition. Tomorrow, I'll give him a small deposit to show our sincerity, then delay signing the contract until the festival is almost over. By then, most other distributors will have left, and we'll be the only ones left. I'll drive the price down hard. Those Chinese don't get many chances to come out. He'll have no choice but to sell!"
With that, he couldn't help but smirk, proud of his brilliant plan, completely devoid of moral qualms.
Yes, he was Jewish.
(End of chapter...
The rain in the northeast has been quite frequent lately.)
(Chapter complete)