Chapter 0973: Market and Audience

"I knew it, my mom was right—I really can accomplish something big!" In a restaurant near the Central Academy of Drama, Jiang Wen, his face flushed, spoke with excitement.

From the look on his face, it was clear he'd had quite a bit to drink.

"Mm, a real mom." Zhao Fusheng picked up a bite of food, swallowed it, smacked his lips, and said with a grin.

"What do you mean?" Ye Jing and the others looked confused, not understanding what he was getting at.

"Obviously, Mrs. Jiang was lying to Old Jiang. Only a real mom would be heartless enough to deceive her own son." Zhao Fusheng blinked and pointed at himself: "When I was little, my mom used to say I looked like Andy Lau."

Pfft!

Everyone couldn't help it; they all broke into strange, amused smiles.

With Zhao Fusheng's looks, though not ugly, there was absolutely no resemblance to the Heavenly King.

"Hey hey, what's with those expressions?" Zhao Fusheng saw their exaggerated reactions and said helplessly, "Are you jealous of me?"

"Heh heh..."

"Yeah, we're jealous—jealous of your shamelessness."

Everyone present was familiar: either independent filmmakers like Wang Xiaoshuai and Lou Ye, or close friends in the industry like Ye Jing and Yu Feihong. Naturally, they felt no restraint and spoke quite freely.

They didn't hesitate to refute Zhao Fusheng's shameless remarks.

Zhao Fusheng curled his lip and decided to ignore them.

Although Heavenly King Lau's acting was mediocre and he relied purely on his looks, Zhao Fusheng felt that compared to him, he was only off by a tiny bit.

Mm, 'a tiny bit' meant an ellipsis...

...

...

Everyone, when they were young, was once asked what they wanted to be when they grew up.

"I want to be a pilot."

"I want to be a scientist."

"I want to be a soldier."

In those ignorant times, we were once spirited and fearless, once believing we were kings of the world. But as time passed, we slowly discovered that we couldn't really do anything.

Those who wanted to be pilots might end up driving taxis. Those who wanted to be scientists might be hauling bricks on construction sites. Those who wanted to be soldiers might become sanitation workers.

Life is always like this: what you want to obtain, you often seek but cannot get.

That's how life is for most people.

Like Zhao Fusheng in his previous life, like Jiang Wen originally.

But now, Jiang Wen had done it.

He had always been a man with dreams, longing to do what he wanted.

Zhao Fusheng's words last year were like a lamp in the fog, making Jiang Wen realize that sometimes what he needed was just the courage to go all out.

Since God closes a door in front of you, He won't even leave a window.

The only way to break the deadlock is to shatter all constraints.

Jiang Wen understood Zhao Fusheng's meaning well, so he chose the most intense method, thrusting his sword at the right moment.

In the first three quarters of 2003, domestic films fell into an unprecedented slump. As of October 1, among the domestic films released in 2003, none had grossed over 20 million yuan at the box office. Only two had exceeded 10 million yuan.

In other words, almost all domestic films were losing money.

For the Film Bureau, this was undoubtedly unacceptable.

On one hand, Hollywood blockbusters were raking in huge box office revenues upon release; on the other, domestic films were in a state of devastation. If this continued, what would become of the domestic film market?

No one could bear that responsibility, so reform was an unstoppable trend.

Jiang Wen's petition came at just the right time. What happened next would depend on the filmmakers themselves.

But regardless of the outcome, many in the industry had to acknowledge that Jiang Wen's role in this matter was significant.

After the dinner party, everyone dispersed, but Zhao Fusheng and Jiang Wen did not part ways. Instead, they had Zhang Qian drive them to the vicinity of the Central Academy of Drama.

"Sometimes I always think, when can I make the movies I want to make?"

In the capital in October, late autumn, the weather had already turned chilly, especially at night, with a hint of cold that could quickly sober up a hungover person.

Jiang Wen leaned back on a bench, lit a cigarette, and slowly began to speak.

"Someday," Zhao Fusheng said with a faint smile, but unlike Jiang Wen, he did not smoke. Instead, he said calmly, "A lot of things, we just need time."

He meant what he said.

The current downturn in the film market was, to a large extent, related to the level of the social economy.

Outsiders couldn't see it, but insiders actually understood this principle.

When people struggle to put food on the table, they don't spend all day thinking about how to enjoy life. Only those who are well-fed and have spare money consider the pleasures of spiritual life after satisfying material needs.

In simple terms, ordinary people's wages were low, they had no money in hand, and they simply didn't have the leisure to go to the cinema for entertainment. Naturally, box office revenues were low.

In ten or twenty years, when ordinary people have money and regard watching movies as part of their leisure life, box office revenues will naturally rise.

Don't you see that many inexplicably bad films can easily earn over 100 million yuan at the box office? That's exactly the reason.

Jiang Wen, of course, didn't know this. He thought Zhao Fusheng was comforting him and said with a bitter smile, "Honestly, I don't know what kind of movies the market likes anymore."

This was heartfelt. The domestic film market at this time was quite chaotic. Not to mention Jiang Wen, no one could guarantee that what they made would be accepted by the market.

The most obvious example: many big-name commercial directors, who confidently produced works, often turned into jokes after market testing.

Of course, there were also directors whose films they themselves might not understand, let alone the audience.

But many directors realized that the previous approach of making low-budget films was no longer suitable. Only big productions could attract audiences' attention, so they began to gather large casts of stars and invest huge production costs in a single work, hoping to win over movie fans.

However, Jiang Wen always felt that this approach was like drinking poison to quench thirst and didn't seem to solve the fundamental problem.

Zhao Fusheng, on the other hand, was very calm. After hearing Jiang Wen's words, he smiled lightly and said, "It's not about what kind of movies the market likes, but what the audience likes."

Huh?

Jiang Wen was startled, not quite understanding Zhao Fusheng's meaning. Weren't the market and the audience the same?

Zhao Fusheng looked at Jiang Wen helplessly: "You have to understand, the market can be manipulated, but the audience cannot. You can fool them for a while, but not forever."

"What do you mean? Explain it clearly." Zhao Fusheng's words made Jiang Wen pause, his eyes slightly brightening. He felt he was about to hear another opinion he had never heard before.

Although Zhao Fusheng always claimed not to be part of the entertainment industry, Jiang Wen felt that this guy seemed born for this business, always saying something inspiring.

Zhao Fusheng looked at Jiang Wen and said helplessly, "What is the film market? It's a broad concept. The market's composition includes investors, directors, actors, and all stakeholders. For example, a film might not be released immediately, but the distributor and the production company can use various methods to make the film appear attractive and popular, creating a false market boom."

"But the audience cannot be manipulated. You can't stop them from saying the film is bad after watching it, nor can you force them to pay for tickets."

Zhao Fusheng looked at Jiang Wen with a half-smile and said slowly, "So, instead of spending time figuring out what kind of works the market likes, it's better to work on your script. Because no matter what, whether the market is booming or not, the quality of the script determines the success or failure of a film. That's beyond doubt."

Jiang Wen was lost in thought. He felt he had touched upon something crucial.