Berlin

"Three steamed corn buns, a bowl of multigrain porridge, and give me some of those pickles." In the cafeteria that morning, Chen Qi carried his mess tin as he got his food. There were no buffet trays here; everyone used aluminum tins. The porridge was poured inside with pickled vegetables sprinkled on top, and the corn buns were skewered on a chopstick to take on the go. Fortunately, he had money and treated himself to private kitchen meals from time to time. He glanced around and sat down across from Gong Xue. She ate even less, having taken only a single coarse-grain mantou. The two often ate together, a sight people at the studio had grown accustomed to, though there were still envious busybodies who had reported them for having an improper relationship. However, that charge usually referred to someone breaking up a marriage or having an extramarital affair, like the scandals surrounding Liu Xiaoqing or Pan Hong. Both of them were single, so what was improper about it? Studio leadership had no desire to meddle. As for the charge of hooliganism, would Gong Xue report Chen Qi for hooligan behavior? Well, if he went too far with his fondling, that might not be entirely out of the question. "Director Yang Jie brought something up with me," Gong Xue said. "She asked if I'd be interested in playing Qin Xianglian." "What do you think?" "I'm actually quite interested. I don't have any roles lined up right now anyway, and I'd like to play more diverse characters." Seeing him fall silent in contemplation after she spoke, Gong Xue asked, "You don't want me to take it?" "No, not at all. I just feel..." Chen Qi believed television dramas were only in their infancy at this stage and wouldn't do much for her career, so he didn't really want her to waste her time. But if she truly wanted to do it, it would all come down to scheduling. Thus he said: "I'm just worried there might be a conflict. *Tai Chi* wrapped in August, and post-production will easily be done in six months, so it can premiere early next year. We'll likely have a lot of promotional events, and television shoots drag on forever, so there's a strong chance the schedules will clash. I'd rather you prioritize the film. "Besides, what if a new film comes looking for you? If you're tied down shooting a TV show, you'd be losing out on something much bigger." "..." Seeing her bow her head without responding, he asked, "Do you really want to do it?" "I've never played a character like Qin Xianglian before, and she has two kids. It would be quite a challenge." "Then negotiate with Director Yang. She has to give you leave when we promote *Tai Chi*, and you only give her a set window of time—say, two months. The moment that's up, you walk." "Ah? That would be so rude!" Gong Xue shook her head, repeating for emphasis, "No, that's really bad!" "The practical reality is right here. Laying our conditions out openly isn't acting like a diva." "What does 'acting like a diva' mean?" "Putting on airs, acting cocky, looking down your nose at people, and thinking you're God's gift to the world wherever you go." After discussing it, Chen Qi ultimately made the call: "How about this? I handed over the script in September, so let's give them four months of pre-production. If they can start filming before the end of January, you go. "If they can't—if they can't even prep a six-episode drama in four months—then forget it. Who knows how long they'd drag their feet. "A person's time is precious. You have to make effective choices." "..." Gong Xue thought it over carefully and found that it made sense. She nodded. "All right, I'll listen to you." *** Room 302. Manuscript paper lay spread across the desk. Chen Qi leaned over, writing away, and before long he had finished the lyrics to two songs. Music was a major highlight of any film or television show; done well, it could endure for decades and add immense luster. One of them, naturally, was the theme song from *The Tai Chi Master*, 'Who Is the True Hero': *Boiling blood spent, turning to dust and earth, merely to win your radiant gaze... Who is the true hero? None other than me...* He could write out lyrics, but he couldn't compose melodies, let alone arrange music. The composer of 'Who Is the True Hero' was Bian Liunian, but that fellow was only a teenager right now. Chen Qi would have to find someone else to set it to music, and then track down a singer. The other was an insert song meant for the scene where Yang Yugan and Chen Shaomei traveled through the scenic countryside, titled 'Beauty's Chant': *Blue skies and white clouds, gently the waters flow; a jade-like hand raises the whip as the horse trots along; the moon rises over the willow branches...* Originally sung by Li Lingyu, it came from *Xiaozhuang Epic*. A few lines weren't quite suitable, so Chen Qi tweaked them, though he would also need someone to compose the music. Li Lingyu was seventeen this year and was likely with the Beijing Yue Opera Troupe; he could go look for her later. "Come to think of it, she was the original Queen of Sweet Songs. In the eighties, every one of her albums broke a million copies, and the biggest one sold eight million. It wasn't until the nineties that the second-generation queen, Yang Yuying, took over..." "How old is Yang Yuying this year? Only nine, probably!" Chen Qi clicked his tongue in wonder, reflecting that he was only eleven years older than her. Putting away the two sets of lyrics, he began pondering the distribution for *Tai Chi*. Looking at the timeline, the most suitable festival was the Berlin International Film Festival early next year. Domestic authorities would never agree in a million years to submit a martial arts film for the Main Competition, but that didn't matter—getting into the screening lineup would be enough. If approval to go to Berlin came through, he could contact the left-wing faction and release the film in Hong Kong first, which would fall right into the Hong Kong Lunar New Year slot—perfect timing. In other words: go to Hong Kong first to connect with East Asian and Southeast Asian distributors, then head to Berlin to connect with European and American buyers. That would be the ideal path... "A bit beyond my reach, though!" Chen Qi sighed. A matter like this wasn't something he could meddle in. It involved too many official and diplomatic channels; only Wang Yang had the clout to slam the table and push it through. "I've done everything I can. Now it's up to you, Old Studio Head!" *** Fang Yurong was a native of Shanghai. After graduating from an institute of foreign languages, she had been assigned to China Film to handle film imports and exports. This year, she had been sent to Germany for advanced studies, where she met a prominent figure: Moritz de Hadeln, the head of the Berlin International Film Festival. Hadeln granted her authorization, appointing her as a film selector for the festival. "Yu, I hope you can bring a Chinese film to compete and let China's national flag fly over the festival!" Hadeln's tone was remarkably urgent, his desire to win her over clear. That was because the previous year, the American Vietnam War film *The Deer Hunter* had screened at the festival, sparking protests from socialist bloc nations who felt many of its scenes insulted the Vietnamese people. Berlin, after all, was split between East and West Germany, making it intensely complicated. Yet the festival took the stance that art shouldn't take sides and tried to remain neutral. As a result, all the socialist nations, including the Soviet Union, withdrew en masse, and two jury members walked out. A film festival lived and died by an abundant selection of films, bringing together the finest talents from all generations. Having alienated the socialist bloc, Hadeln urgently needed someone to fill the void. He turned his gaze toward mainland China, an untapped market, maintaining this friendly posture for decades to come. Zhang Yimou's *Red Sorghum* won the Golden Bear not only on its own merits, but also because of this receptive stance. Fang Yurong had returned home this time precisely to select films. Through this opportunity, she became one of the earliest people in China to turn their sights overseas. She later served as the general manager of New Picture Company—the company founded by Zhang Weiping and Zhang Yimou—and did a great deal to facilitate the overseas distribution of Zhang Yimou's films. At this moment, standing before the entrance of the Film Bureau, she touched the Berlinale letter of authorization inside her bag and strode through the doors. Just as she stepped into the building, she almost ran headlong into Wang Yang. Startled, she blurted out, "Old Studio Head!" "Xiao Yu?" Wang Yang recognized her and asked in surprise, "I heard you were sent to Germany to study. Is it over already?" "Yes, I'm back on some business. Take care!" She hurried inside. Wang Yang blinked, his instincts as an old revolutionary flaring up: *Damn it, something fishy's going on!* His eyes shifted thoughtfully, and he turned right around and headed back inside the building.