I'm not a drama freak, I can really see through the script

Chapter 378, The Respect, Love, and Cheers of the Beijing Film Academy Students—Professor Li
idol.

Not a trainee.

At this moment, Li Xuan was listening to what Teacher Wang Jinsong was saying.

Indeed, as a 'guest lecturer' at the Beijing Film Academy, I seem to have failed to fulfill my responsibilities as a guest lecturer.

Yes, I'm a visiting professor at Beijing Film Academy now.

"What do you want me to tell them?"

"Tell me your idea of ​​'art,' I think they'd all like to hear it."

“Actually, many people enter the Beijing Film Academy because of reasons such as the high income and salary in the entertainment industry. They are actually very confused, and that’s what they are confused about.” Wang Jinsong paused and said, “It’s not that we haven’t invited people to the Beijing Film Academy, but the answers they gave were all very vague. I think you can say something that can make them feel less ‘vague’.”

"No problem, that's why I entered the entertainment industry back then."

Li Xuan chuckled and didn't try to hide it.

This is undeniably high income and lots of money; these are things I, in my very first days, longed for and craved when I entered the entertainment industry.

These things are undeniable.

To say that one doesn't love money and fame is simply a lie.

Because of these things 'love', I entered a certain industry.

This is fucking obvious.

Will my speech make them feel less empty?

At this moment, Li Xuan also looked at the sky.

This is quite an interesting question.

But I need to express these feelings.

These emotions need to be expressed.

To enable them to understand these things.

The news that Li Xuan was going back to Beijing Film Academy to give a lecture spread like wildfire throughout the entire campus overnight.

Even without official school publicity, students' social networks and word-of-mouth had already created an atmosphere that the auditorium was about to be "packed to the brim".

"Have you heard? It's Li Xuan! Alive!"

"The director of 'Into the Dust'! My God! He's only been out of school for a few years?"

"More than that, he's also our visiting professor! Professor Wang Jinsong said it himself, so he should be the youngest visiting professor in our acting department. Although I think he would be just as outstanding as a professor in the directing department."

At this moment, Wang Jinsong felt a pang of emotion as he looked at the students.

In the afternoon, an hour before the lecture was scheduled to begin, the auditorium of Beijing Film Academy was already packed, with students craning their necks to fill the aisles and doorways.

"Teacher Tian, ​​look, our students really like Li Xuan. Whether it's students from the acting department or the directing department, they are all very interested in this young seventh-generation director."

The person next to him is a representative figure of the Fifth Generation of Chinese filmmakers, and is now a professor in the Directing Department of Beijing Film Academy.
A director of the same generation as Zhang Yimou.

"Although I had been paying attention to Li Xuan for a long time, I don't think I ever really met him. By the time he started directing, he was already a graduate, and I hadn't spoken to him at all." Tian Zhuang looked at the podium with great interest.

His gaze swept over the excited, young faces below the stage.

pretty good.

Let a successful young person use persuasive techniques to inspire a group of young people.

When young people inspire other young people, it's always the same old things.

Talk about how you persevered in pursuing your dreams and overcame difficulties, and finally give a pep talk about how "as long as you work hard, you will definitely succeed," along with some textbook-style speeches.

But this is also good.

Some words, spoken by him and spoken by a 'benchmark', have different effects.

Absolutely different!
But in reality, the principles are still the same simple ones.

Actually, there are many more elements.

I'm just curious about that young man who was used as a "knife" by Zhang Yimou to stir up trouble among the sixth generation of Beijing's elite circles—what kind of extraordinary person is he?
"Professor Tian, ​​do you think Li Xuan will just sit here and read a bunch of stuff from the textbook?" Wang Jinsong said with a smile, "Well, you might have a different idea."

"Absolutely different."

A few days later, in the largest tiered lecture hall at the Beijing Film Academy.

Overcrowded.

The passageways, the steps, and everywhere else where people could stand were crowded with young and excited faces.

A certain feeling permeated the air.

A sort of.
A tangible, immediate feeling.

At the front of the lecture hall, a banner reads: "Welcome our visiting professor Li Xuan back to campus for a lecture."

Li Xuan walked to the center of the stage, and the audience gradually quieted down, but the intensity in the hundreds of eyes remained undiminished.

These are all junior students, the new generation.

They were watching too.

A senior who graduated from here and then turned the entire Chinese film and television industry upside down with one work after another.
Even the elite circles in Beijing are impressed by this senior.

Li Xuan did not sit down. He supported himself on the podium with one hand, leaned forward slightly, and looked around.

Apply pressure with one hand.

Cheers.

It has stopped.
His first words stunned everyone.

"You tell me, what is art?"

Yes.

What is art?

Li Xuan also wanted to ask, what the hell is art?

Ask them, ask yourself.
Before looking at these students, I was also reflecting on my own thoughts.

Looking back on my life, and my pursuit of art—

It's fame, it's fortune, it's the thrill of climbing to the top—a very simple feeling of achieving success and recognition.
From an extra to the top graduate of Beijing Film Academy, and now to the leading figure of the seventh generation of directors, he has been climbing step by step towards the strongest stage and reaching the top.

Driven by their own desires, they experience the thrill of fame and fortune, and also crave the system's rewards of health and longevity—there are just too many things to ask for.

But essentially.

Even with the help of a 'system', those working in this industry still need some things.
That's all right.

Only then!
Li Xuan pondered for a moment.

"Didn't your teachers teach you that?"

"Isn't it written in the book?"

"Didn't those film critics, those so-called masters, tell you that?"

"They will tell you that art is the language of the camera, montage, the composition of light and shadow, and the golden ratio!"

"They'll tell you that art is profound, critical, exposes the ugliness of human nature, and makes you feel terrible for a month after watching it, making you feel that life is meaningless!"

"They'll use a thousand words you don't understand to draw a box around you and tell you that anything outside that box is kitsch, garbage, and shows a lack of understanding of film!"

His voice echoed in the auditorium, each word like a bullet piercing the ears of everyone present.

“Yes!!! That’s exactly what the old director who gave the speech the day before yesterday said!!” A girl stood up.

Li Xuan looked at the school badge hanging around her neck; she was a member of the student council, and her name was Wu Jinyan.

Young female students.

"Do you think it's right?"

"Yes, that's right, but it seems correct."

At this moment, Li Xuan slammed his hand on the podium, making a loud "bang".

The entire student body was stunned.

"I'll tell you what art is!"

Li Xuan's eyes seemed to be burning with fire. He pointed to his chest and then to everyone in the audience.

"Art is when you have something on your mind that you can't hold back anymore and want to tell someone! It's when you see a story that moves you deeply and you want everyone to know!"

"Art is when you take your joys and sorrows, your love and your hate, everything you believe and everything you doubt, and knead them all together!"

"Then!"

His voice became low, yet filled with a sense of oppression.

"Use all your strength to transform this thing into images, into sounds, into a story, like a cannonball!" "Boom—!"

He made a firing gesture.

"Thoughts that you bombard other people's heads and make them accept, your consciousness, your output—that kind of happiness is art, that's what I choose. What is art?"

“A kind of legitimate, permissible, and enjoyable act of violence consisting of sound and words.”

The lecture hall was deathly silent.

Even Tian Zhuang was shocked.

violence.

A word that should have been completely removed from the halls of art was blatantly and passionately hurled at everyone by Li Xuan.

He looked at Wang Jinsong beside him, whose hand was resting on the armrest, his knuckles clenched so tightly they were white.

These two are veterans who have been immersed in the Chinese film and television industry for decades.

They've finally met their match.

Shock.

And a sense of absurdity stemming from a subversion of one's understanding.

He had attended far too many lectures on art.

It includes highbrow and sophisticated works, references to classical texts, insightful analyses of Western film theory, and reflections and inquiries into national culture.

Those theories and rhetoric have built an artistic barrier that their generation, and even the sixth generation of the Beijing circle, are proud of.

But now, this young man, this "junior" in their eyes, is even a "greenhorn" being used as a pawn by Zhang Yimou.
"You know, the image of him right now overlaps with the image of someone in my mind."

"Wang Shuo?"

"Um"

Tian Zhuang.

I thought of Wang Shuo, the guy who tore apart an era with his hooligan literature.

His 'rogue' nature.

Li Xuan's 'violence'.

"I really only asked Li Xuan back to inspire the lost students," Wang Jingsong murmured. "Now even this old man like me is inspired."

"I never imagined that Principal Wang wouldn't be here now, otherwise this scene could be included in the Beijing Film Academy textbooks." Tian Zhuang said after a moment of silence, "His summary is too crude, but also too powerful."

At this moment, Tian Zhuang looked at the calm meeting room.

Someone swallowed hard.

The sound was exceptionally clear in the deathly silent lecture hall.

Then, the girl named Wu Jinyan, the student council member who had stood up to ask a question earlier, suddenly slapped her hand, which was still raised in mid-air, hard.

"Snapped!"

crisp.

unexpected.

Then came the second and third hits.

Her cheeks flushed red, not from shyness, but from excitement.

Her applause, like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, instantly stirred up a thousand ripples.

Scattered applause began to rise, and then, like a lit fuse, it quickly coalesced into a thunderous roar!
“Awesome!!!”

"Well said!!!"

"Holy crap! This is what a lecture should be like!"

The students went crazy.

They stood up one by one, waving their arms and clapping and shouting with all their might.

Those young souls who had long been bound by rules and regulations, and who felt lost and weary of "profound" and "sophisticated," were completely ignited at this moment.

Li Xuan stood in the eye of the storm, his face devoid of a smile.

He simply watched quietly as the young faces below the stage contorted with excitement.

He slowly raised his hand and pressed it lightly.

The noise miraculously subsided once again.

Everyone held their breath, waiting for his next words.

"They said that the ending of 'Hidden in the Dust' was too warm and too healing, and not 'real'."

Li Xuan's voice rang out again, this time with a hint of mockery.

"They said I betrayed the core of 'scar literature,' that I forcibly cloaked suffering in a rosy light."

"Bullshit!"

A single swear word startled the students, who then erupted into even louder laughter and cheers.

Tian Zhuang's eye twitched.

Wang Jinsong smiled and shook his head helplessly.

This is the Li Xuan he knows.

"What is reality? Is it killing people off, extinguishing hope, and leaving viewers feeling depressed for a month after watching it?"

Li Xuan took a step forward, walking to the edge of the podium, getting closer to the students in the first row.

"I'll show you what reality is!"

"The truth is, even if a farmer is so poor that all he has left is a donkey, he still wants to build a house of his own and marry a woman who treats him well!"

"The truth is, even if life is as bitter as bitter herbs, as long as there is a piece of sugar made from wheat, he can taste the sweetness and have the strength to live on!"

"The truth is, to live! To do everything in our power to live with dignity! That's the most damn awesome truth etched into the bones of us Chinese!"

His voice wasn't loud, but every word carried immense weight.

"They want to see scars, they want to see sores, they want to show their own profundity by displaying the pain of others. I don't."

Li Xuan shook his head.

"I make movies not so that you'll feel how messed up the world is after watching them."

"I want you to have the courage to face this messed-up world after you finish reading this."

"So they say I'm 'kitsch'."

Li Xuan laughed, a laugh filled with a wild and unrestrained madness.

"They say I pander to the audience for the sake of box office revenue. They say I abandoned the integrity of an artist to please those 'common people'."

He looked around the room, his gaze sweeping over every student.

"The word 'kitsch' is used like an insult in their mouths."

"But I want to ask you that today."

"Among you all here, who dares to say that you are not 'common'? Who isn't a 'common person' who eats grains and has seven emotions and six desires?"

"Are your audience members, those who are willing to spend tens of dollars to sit in a dark room for two hours, 'masters' or 'ordinary people'?"

"What's wrong with making movies for ordinary people, making them cry, making them laugh, and making them feel a little warmer after watching them?!"

Li Xuan suddenly turned around, returned to the center of the podium, and slammed his hands heavily on the podium.

"boom!"

"If it can be understood, enjoyed, and uplifting for the audience, then it's called 'kitsch'!"

His voice suddenly rose, resounding throughout the entire lecture hall like a thunderclap.

"Then I, Li Xuan, am the most vulgar director in all of China! I'm fucking proud of that!"

After saying all this...

Li Xuan was thrilled.

That was so satisfying.

Open your arms.

Hearing these applause, this respect, this reverence, it resonated deep within my heart.
Professor Li!
Professor Li!
These sounds
That's probably part of what I'm pursuing.

(End of this chapter)