1978 Synthetic Writers

Chapter 601 Today's Film Industry
"Is there really a role that would suit me in that TV series you mentioned?" After another bout of wind and rain, Lü Liping lay in Feng Xiaogang's arms and asked with hopeful eyes.

Yes, there should be.

Feng Xiaogang's statement was vague.

Lu Liping then asked, "What is that novel about?"

"A young couple traveled across the ocean to America, hoping to realize their artistic dreams, but ended up washing dishes in a restaurant."

"Washing dishes?"

Upon hearing this, Lü Liping became excited, "Is it your wife washing the dishes?"

"No, it's the husband who does the washing; the wife works in the garment factory."

"A garment factory?!"

Lu Liping was incredibly excited: "I've done work there before."

"Is it?"

"Anything else? What other characters are there? I'm talking about female characters."

"Uh"

Feng Xiaogang recalled for a moment, "The female owner of the Chinese restaurant had a sexual relationship with her husband, and then the couple had a daughter."

"What's the name of this novel? I want to find it and read it."

“I originally had a copy of ‘A Beijing Man in New York.’ One rainy night, I felt cold, so I lit it and used it as a kindling.”

In short, Feng Xiaogang's arrival made Lü Liping feel much more relaxed. With anticipation for the TV series, Lü Liping also felt that her future in the United States had become more hopeful.

Perhaps before long, she will be able to move out of this restaurant and into a reasonably priced but nice apartment building with a sofa and a TV.
"By the way, do you have any money? Could you lend me some?" Feng Xiaogang suddenly asked.

"Borrow money?"

Lu Liping immediately became wary. "What do you need the money for?"

"I want to go to the movies."

Feng Xiaogang said, "Do you know 'The Last Emperor'?"

"Of course I know," said Lü Liping. As an actress, she naturally knew about such a famous movie.

"I want to see it."

Feng Xiaogang said, "No matter what, this is a movie produced by our boss, so I have to go and support it and see how it's doing in the United States. I'm quite curious whether this kind of thing will suit the tastes of Americans."

"Then I'll lend you some first."

Lu Liping said, "I didn't make much money in total. You have to remember to pay me back, understand?"

"Know, know."

Feng Xiaogang laughed nonchalantly, "What's this little bit of money? I just don't have any right now. Once I do, I'll pay you back double."

Hearing him say that, Lü Liping carefully took out fifty dollars from some corner under the bed.

"Too little."

Feng Xiaogang was somewhat dissatisfied. "Give me a hundred dollars. I don't feel confident going out without money. A hundred dollars on me should be enough."

"."

After hesitating for a moment, Lü Liping handed Feng Xiaogang a Franklin note, saying, "Hey, give me back that fifty."

"Oh, since you've already taken it, you might as well lend it to me as well."

Feng Xiaogang's face was full of slyness. "It's not like I'm not going to pay you back. Why are you being so stingy? Give me 150 now, and I'll give you 300 or 500 later!"

Lu Liping was extremely anxious, but there was nothing she could do. Then she realized that she still had to hope that Feng Xiaogang would get her a role, so she had to suppress her emotions and keep comforting herself that this effort would definitely be worthwhile.

After finishing his work, Feng Xiaogang left the restaurant. Only then did he realize that he had been in the United States for so long, constantly trying to survive, and had never really explored the country properly.

He went from shop to shop, standing in front of each shop window for a long time.

In the past, his biggest headache was accompanying his wife shopping and looking at clothes, as he felt it was a complete waste of time and energy.

After all, if people have that kind of time, why not do something else?
But now, he is looking at each shop window and browsing the stores with great interest.

Before I knew it, I had turned two corners and suddenly realized that the shop windows here were a little different from the ones before.

Men and women became exhibits in these shop windows, with pictures of them in various poses displayed in large sizes, filling the entire window.

As for the photos of beautiful women, they were made larger than life-size and hung on the walls of shops and buildings.

Besides these shops, there are also several cinemas lined up closely together.

Where is this?
Feng Xiaogang recalled hearing people talk about this place with great interest, saying that it was near Times Square, on 42nd Street in New York, and the most fashionable place in all of New York.

Feng Xiaogang found the road sign and went over to take a look.

Yes, it clearly says: 42nd Street.

Driven by curiosity, he decided to go into a movie theater.

This is a dirty little movie theater that reeks of fishy odor.

In the pitch-black screening room, he couldn't see anything at first. When he finally saw the image on the screen, he was startled.

The film being shown is an obscene pornographic film.

He sat down, but before he could even settle in, a sexy foreign woman, reeking of cheap perfume, plopped down on his lap.

"Want to see a movie, handsome?"

"Huh? Yes."

Feng Xiaogang looked at her, trembling, "I want to see the final boss—no, King from China."

He described the basic information about the last emperor in broken English.

"Oh, whether you're the boss or the king, it's fine."

The foreign woman smiled seductively and swayed back and forth, "Would you like to go to a room for one-on-one?"

Feng Xiaogang was startled. After turning his head around, he hurriedly shook his head repeatedly.

The woman persisted, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I'll make you have a happy time. Trust me, I'll bring you joy."

Feng Xiaogang recognized the language as professional jargon used by some young women. Although it sounded sweet and cloying, it still instilled a sense of dread in him.

The foreign woman was very experienced and clearly knew how to handle this group of stinky men. Without waiting for Feng Xiaogang's consent, she pulled him into a dark room in a few steps.

Is this the 1v1 private room?
Feng Xiaogang observed his surroundings.

You can clearly see the film on the big screen from inside, but the room is very small, so small that it can only accommodate two people.

As soon as Feng Xiao sat down, the woman's long hair began to sway back and forth on his lower abdomen.

"Relax."

The foreign woman comforted him with extremely mushy language.

But Feng Xiaogang couldn't relax at all; he was extremely nervous and performed very poorly for a time.

"Are you ok?"

The foreign woman patted his butt and said, "Get up, it's all over."

Wang Qiming hurriedly pulled up his pants and was about to leave when the foreign woman stopped him.

You have to pay for this!

"How much?" Feng Xiaogang asked, trembling.

The foreign woman glanced at him and said, "Fifty dollars."

Feng Xiaogang quickly took out fifty yuan and handed it to her.

Seeing how easy he was to talk to, the foreign woman extended another hand.

Feng Xiaogang immediately shook his head.

"Cheapskate."

The foreign woman's face darkened; she cursed at him as she pushed him out of the dark room.

As Feng Xiaogang fastened his belt, he ran out of the movie theater, thinking to himself, "These American movie theaters are really something else." He reached the street, kept his eyes straight ahead, plunged into the subway, and obediently returned to the restaurant.

"Finished reading?" Lu Liping asked him.

"Uh..." Feng Xiaogang didn't know what to say, so he buried his head in his clothes and quickly fell asleep.

The next day, during lunch, the head chef and the wok chef chatted with him again.

"Feng, you and that woman are getting very close."

"Yes, the way she looks at you is different."

"I heard you two live together. Did anything happen at night?"

"Have you already..."

"."

Feeling a little guilty after what they said, Feng Xiaogang blushed and retorted, "We just have a normal relationship. We're from the same hometown, so it's normal for us to be close."

"Feng, don't waste this opportunity. Although she's not particularly good-looking, she's so young. She must have something special after the lights are off."

"Yes, forget all those rules and regulations."

The chef said, "In America, you have to go on dates with girls, go shopping, and see movies."

“Yes,” said the wok maker. “There’s a really good movie out recently, and it’s made in mainland China. You two from the mainland will definitely be interested in it. It’s called ‘The Last Emperor.’”

"The Last Emperor?"

Feng Xiaogang suddenly perked up, "Have you seen it?"

"I've seen it, it's really well made, really good. Most importantly, it's great to see Chinese faces in a movie in America. Finally, I don't have to keep seeing those dead foreigners' faces," the man with the fried pot praised.

"Where did you see it?" Feng Xiaogang asked quickly.

The fryer recommended a nearby movie theater to him, and Feng Xiaogang went there after work. It was a movie theater on the street with a bright facade and much more formal movie posters.

He was still shaken. He glanced around and realized that this movie theater was probably not the same type he had just been to.

What made him even happier was that he saw the poster for "The Last Emperor" right outside the movie theater.

This time, he didn't need to rely on his broken English anymore; he just needed to point to the poster, and the ticket seller would understand what he meant.

Feng Xiaogang waited in the lobby until the appointed time before following the ticket checker into the theater.

The audience included Chinese and American faces, people of all races—black, white, and yellow.

However, sitting in the theater and watching the screen, Feng Xiaogang still had the familiar feeling of watching a movie in China.

The movie started soon.

The opening sequence features an animation from a distribution company.

It's like Warner Bros. popping up a logo made up of the initials of Warner Bros. and a shield.

Disney's castle is now adorned with the words "Walt Disney".

The "20th Century Fox" gold monument and searchlight at 20th Century Fox.

And there's that giant lion from MGM.
What will the opening sequence look like this time?

At first, the screen was completely black, and then the mechanical sounds of film reels turning and gears meshing came from afar.

Then, a beam of light quickly swept across the center of the screen, as if the projector had been turned on. The gilded film gears emerged from the darkness and began to rotate gracefully.

As the rotating gears gradually stretch and deform, the teeth of the film become clock markings, and the film itself condenses into the hands of the clock.

The perforations of the film are cleverly arranged to form the scale of a clock, and the curled shape of the film forms the hands of the clock, pointing to 12 o'clock or 9 o'clock.

12 o'clock symbolizes "now".

The number 9 symbolizes "eternity".

The words "TODAY PICTURES" are presented below the clock with an engraved effect.

This opening sequence is undoubtedly unfamiliar to many people, causing them considerable surprise.

After the opening credits end, there's a piece of music with a strong traditional Chinese style, full of courtly atmosphere—written by Ryuichi Sakamoto.

This guy is a true genius.

Before participating in the creation of "The Last Emperor", I had no idea what Chinese style was.

To compose the music for "The Last Emperor," he studied intensively for a few days and finished writing the music for the film in a week. There were 45 pieces in total, and he won the Academy Award for Best Original Score.

Accompanying the music are subtitles, the first of which is:

“Screenplay by Xian JIANG”

Screenplay means script.

The English translation of "The First Act" is simply to introduce the screenwriter's name.

Clearly, even abroad, the screenwriter's name is shown first in a film, not the director's.

As for Xian Jiang, it goes without saying whose name he is; in English, the first name comes first, followed by the last name.

Feng Xiaogang may not understand Screenplay, but he can understand the name Xian Jiang.

I was so envious.

I wonder when he will have such an opportunity to be the first to have his name displayed, or even in a foreign movie.

Meanwhile, the movie theater was filled with discussions.

"Jiang Xian! Oh my god, could it be that author?"

"Yes, that's him!"

"God, I didn't even know I was a fan of his books!"

"This is such a pleasant surprise! I didn't think the movie would be very interesting, but if it's him, it's definitely worth watching."

After the first act ended, the producer's name was revealed: the rather legendary and stubborn old man, Thomas.

Then the director Bertolucci's name is revealed in the third act.

Apart from these three people, no other names will be displayed.

The movie starts.

1950, the border.

In the gray scene, a steam train sounded its whistle and slowly pulled into the station.

Inside the station, a group of well-trained soldiers, dressed in cotton-padded coats, stood with guns at their sides.

"These are their soldiers?"

"Their uniforms look really bad. These cotton-padded coats look so rustic and ugly."

"I guarantee this clothing is not warm at all."

"Shut up, these are the people who beat us to a pulp more than 30 years ago while wearing this stuff."

"Yes, otherwise MacArthur might have become president."

"."

The audience whispered among themselves, not quite understanding the plot. How could a group of people disregard the soldiers' attempts to stop him, run over, kneel down, and kowtow to him when he was clearly a prisoner of war?

"That was the king of the previous dynasty, the last king, similar to the Queen of England," a knowledgeable audience member explained.

"He's quite handsome."

"Yes, it really has a lot of flavor."

"Oh my god, he's going to commit suicide."

In the scene, John Lone, playing Puyi, runs into hot water with his cut hands. The plot immediately reaches its climax. As a knocking sound comes from outside, Puyi looks in the mirror, and the gray screen suddenly brightens into warm colors.

1908 years.

(End of this chapter)