Ghost

Filming for Orphan continued. Chen Qi spent his evenings plagiarizing—er, pah, writing! In truth, what he was doing could hardly be called pure plagiarism anymore. Adapting an original work to fit the historical backdrop and regional culture of a different era already fell under the scope of secondary creation. In later generations, someone could shamelessly pass it off as their own original work and haul in cash at the box office. The 1980s was an era when Hong Kong's local identity was rising at breakneck speed. Nowhere was this more evident than in the film market, where even Hollywood couldn't compete. Blockbusters like Raiders of the Lost Ark, E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, and First Blood could at best snag a spot in the annual top ten; the box office champion was invariably a local Hong Kong production. Not until 1993 did Jurassic Park burst onto the scene, conquering Hong Kong with industrial filmmaking technology that towered over the rest of the world and raking in more than sixty million HKD. Merely four years after that, the epoch-making Titanic tested the very limits of the Hong Kong market, pulling in a staggering 115 million in this tiny bullet-sized place—officially ushering in the decline of Hong Kong cinema. Generally speaking, Hollywood didn't sell easily in Hong Kong. Only movies with grand spectacle, massive budgets, and visceral thrills had a shot at cracking the top ten. Genres like comedy, romance, and horror ran into cultural barriers. Home Alone grossed 285 million USD in North America, yet failed to even make Hong Kong's top ten. Yet there was one romance that proved the exception. Released in Hong Kong in 1990, it took in over thirty million HKD, finishing third for the year. Its name was Ghost! The premise was simple: a young couple talking marriage is ambushed by a mugger. The male lead is tragically killed and becomes a ghost. Investigating his own murder, he discovers that his close friend orchestrated the robbery. He can only watch helplessly as this friend moves in on the female lead, heaping on the charm and winning her favor step by step—about to turn him into a cuckolded ghost right before his eyes, while he is powerless to stop it. By chance, he finds a psychic medium and begs her to reach out to the female lead. After a series of events, they foil the friend's scheme, and the hero ascends to heaven... It grossed 217 million USD in North America and 300 million USD overseas! The secret to its monumental success was simply that it hit audiences right in the tear ducts—especially female viewers—combined with what were then state-of-the-art visual effects that felt utterly fresh. Aside from that juggernaut Titanic, Ghost was the most popular Hollywood romance in Hong Kong history. Chen Qi now intended to make a Hong Kong version, followed by an American version! Serving one fish two ways. However, he had no intention of shooting the American version right away. The film's box office in America had been explosive. Selling the rights off directly would be a massive loss. Better to wait until he had some clout of his own, figure out how to take a bigger slice of the profits, and only then produce it... The visual effects wouldn't be an issue either. The 1990 version of Ghost had catered to an audience in 1990; an early-eighties Ghost would cater to an audience in the early eighties. He only needed to hit the standard for top-notch visual effects of the present day. Liu Dehua and Liang Jiahui were a perfect fit for the male lead and the second male lead. Actually, the male roles in this film weren't all that important—they were essentially narrative tools. The female lead was the core element. The original's female lead, Demi Moore, had etched her name into cinematic history on the strength of this single film alone. "The female lead doesn't have to be a beauty in the traditional sense, but she must have charm and a distinctive style of her own..." Chen Qi pondered as he wrote, gradually shaping the vision in his mind. *** Liu Dehua felt as though he had struck gold lately. Everything at the training class was going smoothly. The instructors thought highly of him, and he was already slated to shoot his first film, Boat People. Yet before cameras even rolled on that, a second movie had already come knocking. This evening, once class let out, he arrived at an ordinary cha chaan teng. Scanning the room, he spotted someone sitting at the table furthest in the back—the very Mr. Chen he had met once before. That taciturn bodyguard stood nearby as well. "Mr. Chen!" Liu Dehua greeted him with great deference. His face had an honest, dependable look, but he was actually very sharp, knowing full well that this man was a big shot. "Have a seat!" Chen Qi waved a hand and smiled. "How have things been lately?" "Thanks to your good wishes, Mr. Chen, everything's been great." "How about that bandit brother of yours?" "Jiahui? He... er, he left the training class..." Liu Dehua briefly explained the situation. Feigning surprise, Chen Qi said, "So that means you're officially signed with TVB? If I ask you to act in a movie, do I need TVB's approval?" "No, no need! We haven't signed a formal contract, just a letter of intent. I can make my own decisions!" He rushed to clarify, terrified that the opportunity might slip away. "I see. You've read the story outline—what did you think?" "It's fantastic, absolutely fantastic! It'll definitely be a deeply moving romance film. I'd love to play the role!" What could anyone really tell from a brief synopsis? But he was a newcomer; as long as there was work, he wasn't picky at all, nor did he care about left-wing or right-wing politics. Chen Qi studied him. The young man carried an unpolished air, yet also possessed a maturity beyond his years. People always said his acting was subpar when he first debuted, but in truth, it was passable. His performance in Boat People would be competent enough. Chen Qi didn't need him to deliver some astonishing tour de force—merely passable would do. Even in his mature period, his acting remained erratic, sticking his whole life to the "movie star" approach. When paired with the right script and director, he was decent, much like Huang Xiaoming in that regard. To become a superstar, one undeniably possessed talent. Comparatively speaking, however, his natural gifts in acting and singing lagged behind many others. But he worked like a fiend, day in and day out for decades. The mere fact that he didn't eat white rice for ten straight years was damn impressive in itself. "..." Liu Dehua picked up a glass of iced coffee and swallowed a mouthful with some difficulty, feeling slightly unnerved under Chen Qi's scrutiny. Since the other man didn't speak, he didn't dare make a peep either. Finally, Chen Qi spoke again: "When are you heading to Hainan for Boat People?" "Next week!" "So wrapping up won't be until early next year?" Chen Qi calculated the timeline. "Right, it'll take four months." "Once you finish Boat People, report to me to start the next film. Any problem with that?" "None at all! Absolutely no problem!" "Good. Someone will get in touch with you about signing the contract... By the way?" Chen Qi suddenly asked, "Do you know Zhong Chuhong? Is she signed with Shaw Brothers?" "Yes, she's a contracted actress with Shaw Brothers!" "Oh..." Chen Qi nodded and said no more. Recognizing that the conversation was over, Liu Dehua took the initiative to stand up and say his goodbyes. Watching him walk out and disappear down the street opposite, Chen Qi couldn't help but shrug. No more Five Tiger Generals of TVB! No more Four Heavenly Kings! But what the hell did that have to do with him? For now, he didn't plan to seek out Liang Jiahui. Ghost wouldn't kick off until next year anyway, so looking for him then would be soon enough. With Liang Jiahui and Liu Dehua secured on the left-wing side, plus Ann Hui and her fellow New Wave directors, the organizational backbone would instantly fall into place. Throw in a few actresses, and they would have quite an ensemble. Liang Jiahui in particular could go abroad—he was the linchpin! "Let's get going too!" Chen Qi finished his glass of iced lemon tea and headed out with Xiao Mo, thinking to himself: Next, I just have to wait for Boat People to be exposed. If no one blows the whistle, I'll expose it myself... Wait, doesn't that make me Wu Yong from Mount Liang? *** Four movies lined up for next year! Having wrapped up this matter, Chen Qi still had to write scripts, visiting the Orphan set on and off, which made Qiu Shuzhen very unhappy. In the blink of an eye, October arrived. The scenes featuring the two American child actors wrapped, and they finally departed with their pain-in-the-ass guardians. Word also arrived from Beijing: Tai Chi 2 had completed the majority of its shooting and was heading to Hong Kong to film its final few scenes. The traveling cast included Li Lianjie, Wang Qun, Ji Chunhua, Ge Chunyan, He Qing, Tao Huimin, and Zhen Zidan. Li Jianqun would be coming as well, because her character was slated to die in those very scenes.