Popular Cinema

"Absurd!" "Did your people tally this correctly? Is it really 360?" When the figures were submitted to the Film Bureau, the relevant leadership's first reaction was pure skepticism. "Not since '78 have we seen this many prints. Three hundred and sixty 35mm prints—how on earth are they going to screen them all?" "These were filled out by the provincial delegates themselves. We merely compiled the numbers." "Even so, you must consider the consequences! Every print costs money; too many is sheer waste. If they over-ordered and come crying back to you later, can you refund that money?" "Then what do you suggest, Chief?" "Approve two hundred first! If that's not enough, they can always place supplementary orders!" In those days, theatrical runs were exceptionally long. If a film proved popular, it might play for six months in big cities, another six months in smaller cities, a year off and on across the countryside, and yet another year in remote regions—stretching out for as long as three years before leaving circulation entirely. The Film Bureau's reasoning had its merits. They simply hadn't considered how miserable movie theaters would be if *Romance on Mount Lu* became a runaway hit. *** The final figure was handed over to Wang Yang. Wang Yang's feelings were somewhat mixed. On one hand, he hoped to sell as many prints as possible; on the other, he wished it wouldn't exceed too much, because anything past 120 prints was capped at a flat 990,000 yuan payout. Still, *Romance on Mount Lu* had only cost 700,000 yuan to make, so it was a solid profit regardless. This marked the very first time the Beijing Film Studio had turned a profit through "the market." This was the inaugural year of the reform, and he had made inquiries: so far, *Romance on Mount Lu* had sold the most copies by a wide margin. "Not bad, not bad at all! Let the record be set by us!" On second thought, Wang Yang made his peace with it. Even if they made less cash, the studio's prestige would spread just the same. *** Early the next morning, at the guesthouse. After finishing her morning wash, Gong Xue picked up a jar of Friendship vanishing cream, scooped a tiny dab onto her fingertip, and gently smoothed it over her face. She owned hardly any cosmetics; vanishing cream was already high-end for her. When she was done, she combed her hair, fastened an exquisite hairpin, and put on a white button-down shirt paired with light-gray trousers and low-heeled leather shoes. This outfit was her prized Sunday best, kept at the bottom of her trunk, and she had specifically brought it out to wear today. Dressed up, she clattered down the stairs and asked with eager anticipation, "How do I look?" "Not great!" Chen Qi chose brutal honesty. "The hairstyle doesn't suit you, the clothes are just so-so, and you're barely wearing any makeup. Do you have any lipstick?" "Where would I get lipstick?" Chastised by his critique, Gong Xue felt a bit aggrieved. "I don't have anything else. This is the best I've got." "Don't tie your hair back. Let it down, fix the front a bit, give yourself some bangs... Ah, right, that's much better." "Really? Much better?" "Truer than real pearls. Let's go!" She obediently adjusted her hair and cheered right back up. With a smile, she said, "Thanks for the chocolates, by the way. They were delicious. Huang Qiuyan mentioned that you struck it rich?" "It's alright. Made ten thousand yuan." "Ten thousand yuan?!" She gasped aloud, clapping a hand over her mouth. Her eyes sparkled with sheer admiration for his talent. Yet she offered no exaggerated flattery, merely nodding repeatedly with an occasional radiant smile, looking proud by association. Chen Qi hadn't bought anything specifically for her—it wasn't the right time yet. He had treated everyone equally with chocolates, pastries, and the like. Now that lipstick had come up, though, he made a mental note of it. The two of them arrived at the studio director's office, where Wang Haowei, Tang Guoqiang, and Zhang Jinling were already waiting. An unfamiliar man rose to his feet and introduced himself: "Hello, both of you. I'm Cui Hao, an editor from *Popular Cinema*." "Hello, hello! I heard you were coming for an interview and was so thrilled I could barely sleep all night." "You flatter me far too much." "Not at all! Is there a moviegoer in the whole country who hasn't read *Popular Cinema*?" *Popular Cinema* had been founded in Shanghai in 1950 before relocating to Beijing. After resuming publication in 1979 as a monthly magazine, it went on to become the most popular film periodical of the eighties and nineties. It still existed in later decades, though its influence had long since waned. In 1962, the magazine established the Hundred Flowers Awards, decided by public ballot. In later eras, it, along with the Golden Rooster Awards and the Huabiao Awards, was cheekily dubbed one of the country's three big trash awards—a matter too familiar to need much introduction. *Popular Cinema* ran a dedicated column introducing upcoming features. When *Romance on Mount Lu* had been exposed in the newspapers earlier, the magazine hadn't sent anyone because the film's political standing had yet to be determined. Now that print orders were pouring in, an interview was naturally in order. Cui Hao looked over the principal crew and cast, smiling warmly. "Director Wang, Old Tang, and Jinling are old acquaintances of mine. It's my first time meeting Comrade Gong Xue, and just as the papers said, you two make a striking, handsome couple—a true delight to the eyes. And Comrade Chen Qi, if no one told me you were the screenwriter, I would've thought you were a young actor yourself!" "No, no, I'm just a guy who sells large-bowl tea. Shall we begin the interview?" "Of course. Make yourselves comfortable, everyone; let's just have an informal chat." From there, Cui Hao began asking questions. He inquired into the plot and themes of *Romance on Mount Lu*, the filming process, the actors' backgrounds, and so forth, asking in great detail—though only a short excerpt would actually make it into the magazine. If *Romance on Mount Lu* became a massive hit upon release, they could always do a follow-up feature with extra content. Chen Qi was interviewed as well about the original inspiration behind *Romance on Mount Lu*. He spoke the simple truth: his parents worked at the Xinhua Bookstore, he had browsed through an atlas of geography, felt a sudden longing for Mount Lu, and blah blah blah. To be honest, it was rather dull. The questions and answers were rigid and proper, thoroughly steeped in the era's flavor, devoid of even a shred of gossip. Once the interview concluded, Cui Hao took photographs of the group, focusing mainly on Gong Xue and Tang Guoqiang with solo and pair shots. Back when Gong Xue starred in her debut film, *Sacrificial Red*, she had never received such attention, so she felt a little nervous. Watching from the side, Chen Qi harbored serious doubts about Cui Hao's photography skills. Magazine photos in this era invariably shoved a massive close-up right into the subject's face, highlighting rosy cheeks and a wholesome socialist cultural worker's smile—fresh, yet unmistakably rustic. In truth, he felt Gong Xue had great versatility; she looked stunning in both subtle and heavy makeup. She had a film called *July Heat*, set in the Republican era, where she played a cabaret dancer. In that movie, she wore a qipao, had permed curls, walked in high heels, and held a small folding fan, slaying completely with classic Shanghai glamour. That makeup had been quite heavy, complete with bold red lips, yet it never felt vulgar—only vibrant and radiant. *I really should buy her some lipstick, apply it to her lips, and have her smack them together...* Chen Qi blinked back his daydream. "That will be all for today. Thank you all for your cooperation! The next issue will feature *Romance on Mount Lu*." After spending the entire morning with them, Cui Hao finally rose to take his leave. Chen Qi suddenly chimed in, "Editor Cui, when will the Hundred Flowers Awards be held next year?" "Probably around March as usual. News will be announced when the time comes. Oh, that's right! *Romance on Mount Lu* is screening this year, so it qualifies perfectly. You'll all be candidates, and audiences will get to vote for you!" Cui Hao said. "We wouldn't dare dream of a Hundred Flowers Award—that's the highest honor!" "Indeed, each vote is cast by the moviegoers themselves. We wouldn't presume to expect anything like that." This year's Hundred Flowers Awards had already been handed out: Best Feature Film went to *Ji Hongchang*, *Tear Stains*, and *Little Flower*; Best Actress went to Chen Chong from *Little Flower*; and Best Supporting Actress was awarded to Liu Xiaoqing from *What a Family*. In the 1980s, there was no concept of "A-list" or "B-list." Whether an actor was considered top-tier depended entirely on these accolades. Everyone walked Cui Hao out. Gong Xue said nothing, but a clear yearning for the Hundred Flowers Awards showed on her face. Chen Qi glanced at her and couldn't help but chuckle. "What are you smiling at?" she asked, mystified. "Nothing, just felt like smiling." He shook his head. The Hundred Flowers Awards next year... Man, next year would also mark the very first Golden Rooster Awards!