Chapter 00086: The Sound of Spring Thunder (Seeking First Subscription)
# The Sound of Spring Thunder (Seeking First Subscription)
Chapter 86
Novel: 1979 Golden Age
Chapter 86: The Sound of Spring Thunder (Seeking First Subscription)
Zhang Xinyan felt like he had run into some bad luck!
He had sent out three teams to scout for talent across the country—one to the northwest, one to the central plains, and one to the southeast.
They had brought back some information, but every time he found someone he liked, they were already taken.
He’d ask who had taken them, and the answer was always the same: the Beijing Film Studio’s Tai Chi project.
Hmph!
Zhang Xinyan immediately went to confront Wang Yang.
Wang Yang, however, played dumb, saying, “I don’t know anything about it. I’m just the studio head; I don’t get involved in the specifics of filming.”
Next, Zhang went to Li Wenhua, who said, “I discussed it with everyone; it wasn’t just my decision.”
Finally, the trail led to Chen Qi.
“I know you’re in a hurry, but don’t get too worked up,” Chen Qi said with a smile, pouring Zhang a cup of hot water. “You came in here all fired up, and I’m completely in the dark. What’s going on?”
Zhang Xinyan, who usually carried himself with the grace of a scholar, now looked like a disgruntled shopper who’d been shortchanged at the market.
He snapped, “Don’t play dumb with me! You knew I was going to the martial arts team to pick actors, and you went ahead and snatched them up. What’s the meaning of this?”
“Hold on, let’s sort this out,” Chen Qi said calmly. “Last year, you came here talking about preparing for Shaolin Temple and how Liao Gong had high hopes for it. You said winter wasn’t suitable for filming, so we focused on finalizing the script, and I helped with that.“At the end of last year, after Romance on Lushan Mountain wrapped up, I wanted to write a new script.
I remembered Liao Gong mentioning two themes: Shaolin and Tai Chi.
You chose Shaolin, so I thought, why not make a Tai Chi movie? Can’t we do that? It’s not like there’s a ban on it, right?”“There isn’t!”Zhang Xinyan said through gritted teeth.“You know how fast I write scripts.
I finished it in a few days.
The old studio head was ambitious and wanted to make an entertainment film, so we hit it off.
I became the planner, Li Wenhua the director, and we started preparing.
“I originally planned to go to the Beijing martial arts team to pick actors, but then I thought, if they didn’t give you any face, they certainly wouldn’t give us any. So we decided to look elsewhere, and maybe we’d find something.“Director Li and I went on a trip before the Spring Festival.
Do you know what that means? Before the Spring Festival! We spent over ten days on trains, traveling across several provinces, and finally found a few people.
At that time, where were you? You were back in Hong Kong!
“Can you blame me for that? Should I have told you not to go back? You came back after the holiday, couldn’t find anyone, and now you’re mad at me. What, do you think I can predict the future? Did I somehow intercept all your actors? If I had that kind of power, why would I still be here?”
Zhang Xinyan’s face turned red, but he couldn’t come up with a retort.
Chen Qi, still smiling, added, “Now that you think we’ve crossed paths, there’s a solution. Shaolin Temple is a project assigned by Liao Gong, half a national project. If you talk to the higher-ups and they tell us to step aside, we’ll step aside.”
Damn it!
Zhang Xinyan, a native of Ningbo, almost let out a famous curse but held back.
He said, “Kid, don’t try to provoke me. Given my relationship with the old studio head, I wouldn’t pull rank on you. If you’ve taken them, fine. China is big; I’ll find others.”
“Of course you can find others, but Shaolin Temple has already been delayed for a year. If you delay it another year, when will it ever get made?”
Zhang Xinyan made as if to leave, but Chen Qi stopped him. “I’ve almost finished gathering my team, and we’ll start training soon. You’ll need to train your actors too, right? Think of it as me paving the way for you.“We’ll finish filming quickly.
You can start scouting locations or shoot indoor scenes at the Beijing Film Studio.
We can work on both films simultaneously.
By autumn at the latest, I’ll hand over the entire team to you, and it won’t delay your schedule.”Zhang Xinyan sat back down, suspicious.“Kid, just tell me straight—what’s your game?”“There’s only one condition: let me use Jet Li first.”Zhang Xinyan broke out in a cold sweat, staring at Chen Qi with an odd look. A thought crossed his mind: Could this have been his real goal all along? But that’s impossible. Like he said, how could he have predicted this?“You’re saying one team for two films?”“Exactly! I’ll train them—I mean, I’ll work with them first.
They’re non-professional actors, so they’ll need time to adjust.
Once my film is done, they’ll have experience, and they’ll be ready for your film right away.
It’ll make things easier for you, won’t it?”Historically, Zhang Xinyan didn’t gather his actors for training until the summer, and the film took over a year to complete. But now, thanks to Chen Qi’s involvement, the script was finished early, and the overall schedule had been moved up. Zhang Xinyan should have been thanking Chen Qi. Unable to bring himself to pull rank, Zhang Xinyan accepted the proposal, though he was still puzzled. Chen Qi’s talk of efficiency made him wonder—could a film really be made efficiently without sacrificing quality? He was curious to see how Chen Qi would pull it off. … After seeing Zhang Xinyan off, Chen Qi went straight to the main building to find Wang Yang. Wang Yang laughed heartily.“Good job, kid! You really pulled the team together.
The set on West Fourth Archway Street is almost ready too.
We won’t fall behind schedule.”“We just need a martial arts choreographer, and then my job is mostly done.
The rest is up to you.”“You know, working with you has reignited some of that revolutionary passion in me!”Wang Yang pulled out an envelope and waved it.“I’m going to write to the central authorities!”… In the spring of 1980, the film industry experienced an earthquake. It wasn’t entirely unexpected; there had been signs for a while. Historically, Wang Yang didn’t write his letter to the central authorities until the summer, but now, thanks to the butterfly effect, the letter was sent months earlier. In the letter, he addressed three issues: the focus of investment in the film industry, profit distribution, and the management of film studios. When the news spread, the five major studios—Shanghai Film, Changchun Film, Emei Film, Xi’an Film, and Pearl River Film—all voiced their support. The central authorities ordered the Ministry of Culture to come up with a solution. Why was this so effective? First, Wang Yang held a high position. Second, in the early days of reform, everyone was groping in the dark. They knew reform was necessary but didn’t know how to go about it. Trying things out was the way to go—if it didn’t work, they could always adjust. There were plenty of stones in the river to step on. Third, this was an era when the working class held power, and even a security guard could argue with the studio head. The collective voice of the masses carried significant weight. In the Ministry of Culture’s meeting room, the atmosphere was entirely different from the previous year’s tea party. The same people were present—leaders from the Ministry of Culture, representatives from China Film, and studio heads—but the mood had shifted. Ding Daming from China Film glared at Wang Yang as if he wanted to bite a chunk out of him. The central authorities had ordered a resolution, meaning there was no more room for stalling. It also meant China Film would have to give up some of its profits. Wang Yang remained calm; he wasn’t worried. Xu Sangchu from Shanghai Film was also fired up, knowing this was a historic moment. The heads of smaller studios had little say and were content to watch the big players duke it out.“Today, we’ll discuss the profit distribution for film distribution.
Wang, you go first.”“Ahem!”Wang Yang cleared his throat.“Let me remind everyone, we’re not here to argue.
That would just waste time.
Let’s stick to the point.
I’ll make two points: give us the film copyrights—you can’t keep taking them—and give us the right to distribute our own films.”Previously, China Film had bought out films for 700,000 yuan, including the copyrights, leaving the studios with nothing. Xu Sangchu said,“I support Wang’s proposal!”“I support it too!”“We also support it!”Ding Daming knew this wasn’t the time for arguments and said patiently,“We can give you the copyrights, but distribution rights are out of the question.
We can work out a solution that everyone can accept.”“Then let’s price films based on quality.
Good films sell for more, bad ones for less.”“Right, we can’t keep selling everything for 700,000 yuan!”“But how do we determine quality?”Ding Daming spread his hands.“Film appreciation is subjective.
What you think is good, I might think is bad, and vice versa.
Wouldn’t that just lead to more arguments?”“That’s true.
There’s no fixed standard.”“So what do we do?”
China Film was willing to give up some profits, but the question was how.
After much back-and-forth, including a break, they finally reached an agreement:
China Film would purchase films and sell copies to various regions.
If a film sold between 99 and 120 copies, each copy would be priced at 9,000 yuan, with the studio receiving a minimum of 900,000 yuan and a maximum of 1.08 million yuan.
If a film sold fewer than 99 copies or more than 120, China Film would still pay 990,000 yuan.
This significantly increased the studios’ profits.
While they still didn’t have full autonomy, they were now somewhat connected to the market and had to pay attention to sales.
However, this placed a heavier burden on China Film.
How many films could sell over 120 copies in a year? Especially art films, which often sold only a few copies, yet China Film still had to pay 990,000 yuan for them.
In the following years, China Film lost over 60 million yuan and eventually threw in the towel.
The central authorities had to reform again, making the studios responsible for their own profits and losses.
This led to a decline in domestic films in the late 1980s.
Another round of reforms in the 1990s finally shifted the industry from a planned economy to a market economy.
It wasn’t until after 2000 that the industry truly took off.
This process took a full 20 years! Countless cinemas closed, and many workers lost their jobs.
The pain of reform was no small matter.
Of course, Wang Yang couldn’t foresee any of this.
He was limited by the times.
He and the other studio heads basked in the joy of victory.
With higher profits, their budgets would increase too—no longer a pitiful 700,000 yuan but up to 1.08 million.
A Tai Chi film made for 700,000 yuan versus one made for 1.08 million—there was no comparison!
Not long after the meeting, the Ministry of Culture issued a document announcing the changes:
Starting in the second quarter, reform would begin!
(Thanks to Xin Yi Yuan Li and HUAZAI for their support.
Additional chapters will be posted soon.
Take a break for now!)
(End of Chapter)