I'm just trying to ride the wave of popularity!

Chapter 330 The King of Comedy
The Hong Kong film market in the 90s was a constellation of stars, with many vying for supremacy.

Comedy films, in particular, have seen a diverse range of styles...

However, when it comes to representative figures of Hong Kong comedies during this period, Deng Xingzu is definitely a name that cannot be ignored.

Deng Xingzu was a landmark figure in Hong Kong comedy films in the 90s, and his exaggerated, subversive performance style and grassroots humor made him a sensation.

His starring roles in numerous films pioneered the comedic genre of "ordinary people achieving success against all odds," and his exaggerated physical comedy and signature infectious laughter became a collective memory for a generation.

however……

At the turn of the millennium, he ambitiously transitioned into directing, and his self-written and self-directed film "The Monkey King" attempted to subvert the traditional narrative of Journey to the West. However, due to its overly avant-garde and abstract expression, it suffered a box office failure and was criticized by the media for "desecrating the classics." In the following five years, due to the failure of the film and friction with capital, he was eventually forced to fade from the public eye and fell into depression for a time.

Until a few days ago, I happened to see the premiere of "Kung Fu Basketball", which rekindled my dream.

..............................

The moonlight shone on Deng Xingzu's face.

Deng Xingzu sat quietly in the reception room, waiting for Zhou Yang's arrival.

He silently looked at the script for "Shaolin Kung Fu Soccer".

The Hong Kong film industry in the late 90s was rife with undercurrents, as capital and various forces entered the scene in force...

Deng Xingzu has offended several major capital giants who control the market by insisting on his ideas of comedy innovation.

He witnessed the gradual decline of traditional comedy, the manipulation of film by capital, and felt his own talent being constantly exploited, making him increasingly constrained in his filmmaking...

So he took a gamble and established [Huihong Film Company], exhausting his connections to raise HK$8000 million to film "The Monkey King".

This avant-garde work, which subverted the narrative of Journey to the West, was besieged by capital after its release. Its screenings were maliciously reduced, the media collectively criticized it, and it was even denounced by traditional filmmakers as "desecrating the classics".

The box office ultimately only recouped 1200 million yuan, leaving Deng Xingzu penniless and burdened with huge debts.

Filmmakers he had once collaborated with all distanced themselves from him, making it difficult for him to establish himself in Hong Kong. He then turned to the mainland to seek opportunities, but no one dared to invest in him because of his label as "box office poison." In the end, he ended up living in a rented room in Shenzhen, where he even had to borrow money from old friends to pay for his phone bills.

People who are involved in art often have some unique personality traits—either they are aloof and proud, or sensitive and eccentric, and they always have a stubbornness in their bones that makes them unwilling to follow the crowd.

Deng Xingzu is a typical example of this.

In fact, with his past fame and acting skills, he could have lived a comfortable life if he had just been willing to lower his status, go out and show his face, take on some commercial performances, or play the lead role in some second- or third-rate movies.

But he disdained these opportunities, preferring to stay in his rented room and eat instant noodles rather than bow to the market and play roles that he considered "soulless".

This almost obsessive persistence caused him to suffer setbacks in reality, but it also allowed him to maintain the purity of an artist. Even when he was poor and destitute, he would never exchange his creative principles for a stable job.

However, about five years is indeed enough time to wear down a lot of things.

At least……

When the conference room door was pushed open, he subconsciously straightened his clothes, silently stood up, and forced a stiff smile as he walked towards the figure.

"Mr. Zhou."

"sit……"

On screen, Deng Xingzu is always exaggerated and boisterous, but in real life, he appears somewhat taciturn and aloof.

Since arriving in this world, Zhou Yang has actually been watching some old movies from Hong Kong.

I've naturally seen and followed Deng Xingzu's movies before. While in the car, I also read about some of his experiences after the millennium from the messages Zhang Jingya sent me.

His experience is very similar to that of Stephen Chow in the original world. However, it is a pity that after Stephen Chow moved to the mainland, he met a benefactor in the film industry and eventually filmed the life-changing movie "Shaolin Soccer". But Deng Xingzu in this world is very regrettable. After the millennium, he did not have any works. In recent years, he seems to have disappeared.

In the sunlight, Deng Xingzu sat on the sofa in the reception room, his knuckles unconsciously gripping the script.

He was much thinner than he appeared on screen, with a few noticeable white hairs mixed in with his slightly pale complexion...

His signature exaggerated smile was now just a stiff curve at the corner of his mouth, and the cuffs of his cheap suit were worn shiny. He didn't know how to break the silence, so he could only maintain that forced smile. His eyes revealed the hope of a drowning person grabbing onto a piece of driftwood, but it was quickly suppressed into a cautious probing.

In the end, he still handed the script to Zhou Yang.

"Mr. Zhou, this is the script I wrote, 'Shaolin Kung Fu Soccer.' My request is very simple—I want to direct this movie myself."

"Therefore, I am willing to sign a long-term contract with your company, 5 years, no, 10 years is fine. During the contract period, I can shoot multiple films for the company, and I can also independently complete the scriptwriting."

"But we hope that the investment in each film will be no less than 2000 million RMB. If you are not comfortable with this, we can sign a performance-based agreement to guarantee that each film will be profitable for the company..."

"..."

When Deng Xingzu saw Zhou Yang sit down in the chair, he noticed that this tycoon, who was rumored to be outspoken and confrontational, did not show any disdain.

This discovery made him suddenly stand up, unable to contain himself, and pour out his long-held feelings. He knew all too well the weight of the man before him—Zhou Yang, who controlled the lifeline of mainland cinemas and held distribution channels and overseas resources, was already a pivotal figure in the film industry.

As long as the other party agrees, my "Shaolin Kung Fu Soccer" will have a chance to regain its former glory.

However, after he finished stating all the conditions, the reception room fell into a suffocating silence.

Zhou Yang simply looked down at the script, reading line by line without uttering a word.

Deng Xingzu suddenly became a little nervous, and his breathing became slightly heavier.

The scenes of being rejected by various types of capital over the years flashed through my mind like a revolving lantern.

From Hong Kong to Shenzhen, from producer to investor, he can't remember how many times he's been turned away.

Sitting across from him now, Zhou Yang might be the last hope of his professional career.

Starting with "Kung Fu Basketball," he realized that the two of them had such similar creative philosophies, both obsessed with blending traditional elements with modern comedy, and creating almost subversive humorous comedies.

If I am rejected again this time
Deng Xingzu looked down out the window, somewhat lost in thought...

He knew that he would probably never have a chance to turn his life around.

……

Under the moonlight, Zhou Yang silently finished flipping through the last page of "Shaolin Kung Fu Soccer." The general plot was similar to that of "Shaolin Soccer"...

"I adapted this movie script from 'Kung Fu Basketball.' After watching the movie a few days ago, I found that 'Kung Fu Basketball' was strikingly similar to some fragmented script outlines I had conceived many years ago. So I revised and polished the original manuscript, and then rewrote it, which resulted in this script. There are indeed some borrowings, but I am confident that it is better than 'Kung Fu Basketball'..." Deng Xingzu subconsciously explained as he saw Zhou Yang finish reading the script and frown.

In fact, when he first watched "Kung Fu Basketball," the shock almost sent chills down his spine. The exaggerated parody elements in the film were exactly the same as his creative ideas that he had treasured for many years. This inexplicable and eerie similarity made him feel as if he were living in some kind of shadow, both familiar and strange.

I even had a dream a while ago that I was acting in "Kung Fu Basketball," and then when I woke up, "Shaolin Kung Fu Soccer" came to be...

Zhou Yang closed the script and gently placed it on the coffee table.

He picked up his teacup, took a sip, and his gaze fell thoughtfully on Deng Xingzu's faded suit cuffs.

“Mr. Deng,” Zhou Yang suddenly smiled, “I can provide the 3000 million investment.”

Deng Xingzu suddenly looked up, excitedly staring at Zhou Yang, but before he could speak, Zhou Yang held up two fingers: "Two conditions."

“First, the male lead must be played by yourself.” Zhou Yang’s gaze suddenly sharpened: “I’ve seen your drunken boxing scene in the 90s movie ‘The Street Hero’…” He suddenly imitated Deng Xingzu’s signature comedic gesture: “This kind of comedic rhythm in the bones, newcomers can’t imitate it.”

Deng Xingzu paused for a moment, somewhat dazed.

Having not stood in front of a camera for five years, this request made him feel inexplicably uneasy.

"Second!" Zhou Yang pulled a contract out of the drawer. "The director's credit is Ding Rong, and you're listed as assistant director, but..."

He suddenly turned the contract around, pointing to the special terms page: "Casting, storyboard design, on-set management—you decide everything. My people are only responsible for monitoring the budget."

Deng Xingzu stared at the bolded text in the clause that "Party A shall not interfere with artistic creation," and finally lowered his head.

"Why?" he finally asked in a hoarse voice, his heart filled with resentment.

“There’s no reason why. If you accept it, sign it. We can start filming anytime tomorrow. If you can’t accept it, we can talk again next time…” Zhou Yang silently looked up at the moonlight outside the window: “Our company has no shortage of directors, but what we lack most is a truly talented actor who can carry the box office, and…”

"What else?"

"If you want to be a director, then prove it to me..."

“Director Ding Rong, this is also your first film. Moreover, anyone could become a director here before, so why can’t I?” Deng Xingzu stood up and stared at Zhou Yang.

“Because I’m the one who sets the direction, and they’re all willing to follow my path. Even if there are slight detours along the way, they’ll turn back. But you, your future self, can you follow the path I’m on? [Xuan Shi Entertainment] is a production company, and the director can only be a director from [Xuan Shi Entertainment]…” Zhou Yang stared at Deng Xingzu: “I don’t need you to sign a long-term contract. We can collaborate on one film at a time. You can start your own company anytime in the future. As long as the script is suitable, we can collaborate again; if it’s not suitable, you can find other investors… I won’t interfere with your creative process, nor will I force you to follow the same path as me…”

Deng Xingzu was taken aback, and his hand holding the pen trembled slightly.

He looked up at Zhou Yang, a glimmer of light flashing in his perpetually weary eyes…

After five years of wandering, someone finally saw through his deep-seated persistence.

Zhou Yang's conditions may seem harsh, but they gave him the creative freedom he craved most.

This contract is not charity, but a recognition of his talent.

His throat trembled slightly, and he finally signed his name heavily, as if he had been freed from shackles for many years.

At that moment, he vaguely felt that the young man in front of him might truly be a confidant who understood him.

(End of this chapter)