Director of Photography Department of Huayu

Chapter 234 Cannes VS Venice

Thierry Frémaux's slightly nasal French-accented English could still be heard from the other end of the phone.

The other party spoke slowly and deliberately.

As Wu Chen walked back to his office, his gaze was calm. After a moment of thought, he responded softly:

"Thank you for your attention, I am very grateful."

However, the film is still in post-production; color grading, audio-visual effects, and editing are not yet finalized.

“I understand,” Thierry Frémaux smiled. “But even if it’s just a rough cut, Cannes is willing to give it priority to viewing.”

We firmly believe that the completeness of a film is a concept within an artistic context, not a conclusion drawn from an industrial assembly line.

"I will seriously consider it. If I can make it, Cannes is my top priority."

"Looking forward to your good news." Thierry Frémaux smiled and hung up the phone.

He believed Wu Chen's statement that he was seriously considering the matter.

On the one hand, this year marks the 60th anniversary of Cannes, a significant year for Cannes and for ambitious directors worldwide.

Secondly, within the global film festival system, Cannes rarely takes the initiative to "invite films," and when it does, it signifies much more than just a screening opportunity.

That's a kind of "certification," a certification of the director's status, and also a clear invitation for the auteur's films to enter the annals of world film history.

In the normal process, most films sent to Cannes usually need to go through intermediary channels such as sales companies, film festival managers, or international production consultants to submit their initial cuts, and then be reviewed by the Cannes Art Committee.

Whether the director is involved or not is usually at the end of the process, unless the director has a lot of influence, in which case the process will be brought forward.

It's worth noting that the fact that he personally called to express his "desire to observe" is a rare occurrence, happening only to a very few directors over the years: Jean-Luc Godard, Michael Haneke, Abbas Kiarostami.
Now, this honor has fallen on Wu Chen.

This is Cannes' recognition, and also a gesture of goodwill.

In China or Asia, very few people receive this honor; you could count them on one hand, or even fewer than a handful.

It's not just that excellent works need Cannes as a platform for display; they also need excellent works to vindicate Cannes.

The competition among the three major film festivals is intensifying. Whoever can snatch the masterpieces of the masters will have the opportunity to redefine the annals of cinema.

Behind "Black Peony" is not only the Oscar support of "Get Out", but more importantly, it is the work of Wu Chen, a master of thrillers, and the final chapter of Wu Chen's thriller trilogy.

Wu Chen has now demonstrated unique insights and deconstruction of the thriller genre.

For Cannes, a film with such a background would be a huge loss if it were selected for another film festival, even Venice.

Therefore, he has to take action himself!
He knew, of course, that "Black Peony" was not yet finished, but he also knew that if a call came at this time, even if he couldn't sign the contract immediately, he had to clarify his position in advance.

However, Thierry Frémaux was not the only one with this idea; Marco Müller, the president of the Venice Film Festival, also had the same thought.

Rome, Italy: Venice Film Festival organizing committee office.

Rome in March is still damp and rainy, and the Castel Sant'Angelo at the end of the street seems to have lost its sharp edges in the mist.

Meanwhile, inside the meeting room of the Venice Film Festival curatorial committee, the atmosphere was much drier than the weather.

At the round table, Marco Müller was flipping through a thick folder, which was filled with recent completed and unfinished works by some well-known directors, with Wu Chen's "Black Peony" clearly on it.

He has already reviewed the complete project proposal for the film twice, as well as style samples from all of Wu Chen's previous films, and even his on-site speeches at the Golden Globes and Oscars.

Marco Müller closed the clip, his tone calm yet decisive:
"The project script for this film is highly stylized, and Wu Chen's expertise in the thriller genre is also highly anticipated; it's worthwhile for us to personally invite him."

The curator beside him exchanged a glance: "But our problem right now is that we don't have a way to communicate directly with Wu Chen; he's never been to Venice before."

Marco Müller pondered for a moment, then suddenly remembered someone:
“He and Yi Mou Zhang are fellow students. We sent him the invitation to be the chairman of the judging panel. Is Zhang still hesitating?”

"We can ask Zhang for a favor; he won't refuse."

Marco Müller was very certain.

Although this is only the 64th Venice Film Festival, it happens to be the 75th anniversary of Venice.

Zhang Yimou is the director who has received the most honors at the Venice Film Festival in its 75-year history.

Zhang Yi won two Golden Lion Awards for her roles in "The Story of Qiu Ju" and "Not One Less".

"Raise the Red Lantern" won the Silver Lion, while "The Story of Qiu Ju" propelled Gong Li to the Best Actress award.

Therefore, the fact that Zhang Yimou, who has won the most awards in the history of the Venice Film Festival, was invited to serve as the president of the jury is itself very meaningful.

Furthermore, Zhang Yi and Venice are too familiar with each other, so the possibility of the other party refusing such a small favor is extremely low.

Inside the temporary office building of the Beijing Organizing Committee for the Olympic Games on the west side of the National Stadium "Bird's Nest".

The March wind still carried a lingering chill, and the exterior of the "Bird's Nest" gleamed metallically in the sunlight. Zhang Yimou was hastily finishing an internal report to the opening ceremony's visual effects team. He took off his headset, casually wiped the sweat from his brow, and his assistant handed him a bottle of water, then whispered a reminder:
"Director Zhang, the call from Venice has been transferred."

Zhang Yi nodded slightly, thinking it was about the jury chairman again. She took the phone and sat down in the makeshift meeting and rest area.

“Mark?” he replied in English that was not fluent but was dignified.

On the other end of the phone was a familiar voice:

"Yi, I know you're very busy preparing for your country's Olympics, but we are very much looking forward to your role as the jury president at this year's Venice Film Festival, and of course, there's something else too."

Marco Müller paused slightly before getting straight to the point:
“We’ve noticed Wu Chen’s new film, ‘Black Peony.’ Could you ask him if it’s possible for him to bring the film to Venice?”

Zhang Yi hesitated for a moment, then looked towards the huge steel structure construction site outside the conference area, where a construction vehicle loaded with stage lighting frames had just driven by.

He knew that Marco Müller was not someone who acted rashly.

Because Venice was once proud too.

Half a century ago, it undeniably ascended to the throne of "world film capital".

Back then, it led the global trend of art films and became the starting point and destination for countless masters.

However, it has long been overshadowed by Cannes.

The French are adept at using media, skilled at creating atmosphere, and even more knowledgeable about how to turn an art film festival into a "central discourse of global culture."

Berlin is stable, Cannes is high-profile, while Venice is often sandwiched in the middle, appearing somewhat lonely.

Zhang Yi nodded slowly: "I'll ask about that for you, but I need some time to consider the judging panel."

After hanging up the phone, he stood up, and his assistant handed him the schedule for the next rehearsal.

Meanwhile, at Starry Sky Pictures, the spring sunshine outside the floor-to-ceiling windows reflected Wu Chen's figure as he bent over, flipping through a script.

His fingertips were resting on the ending paragraph of "Painted Skin".

This classic tale about "human nature" has finally been finalized after repeated revisions.

After nearly half a year of polishing and several revisions, from the alluring beauty of a fox spirit to the bewilderment of the human heart, Wu Chen finally felt relieved.

"Thank you all for your hard work. No problem, we can finalize the draft!"

Wu Chen nodded to the scriptwriting department, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief, extremely excited.

"Everyone's name will be credited at the end of the film, so don't worry, not a single one will be missing."

"Thank you, Director Wu!"

Hearing this, everyone became even more excited and stood up, their eyes filled with gratitude.

Seeing this, Wu Chen was both amused and exasperated, and also somewhat helpless.

However, the main problem is that screenwriters in China have a very awkward position. Not only can directors change things at will, but producers and even top actors can also give them a piece of their mind. Screenwriters have nowhere to complain or voice their grievances.

Moreover, in China, most film projects are dominated by "producers and directors," and screenwriters are often the ones who passively take on the work.
Unless they are particularly important creative screenwriters, such as Shi Hang, Lu Wei, and Wang Shuo, they have no say in the order of credits or whether they are credited at all in the final cut.

Conversely, some people who later "polish" or "list" the work are able to be credited as screenwriters because of their high status, such as producers, investors, or even directors.

This is a long-standing problem of "chaotic attribution" and "unfair attribution" in the Chinese-language film and television industry.

It's fair to say that Wu Chen's words were enough to make these screenwriters extremely grateful.

The group filed out of the conference room, their expressions a mixture of relief and a sense of exhilaration that their hard work hadn't been in vain.

A few people quietly gathered together in the tea room, discussing something in hushed tones.

“I almost thought I misheard. Director Wu said ‘not one less,’ but I almost heard it as ‘not one at all.’ It was so worth it to come here to write the script. My friend will definitely regret it when he finds out.”

"Damn it, I've been writing screenplays for five years, and this is the first time I've been credited with my full name. You know, when I wrote screenplays for others, I was credited as 'the writing team,' I didn't even have an abbreviation."

“What’s that compared to what I did? I was in a much worse situation. My last project was registered under the investor’s daughter’s name. I wrote the script all by myself, and when the producer asked, ‘You don’t have any objections, do you?’ I didn’t even dare to say a word.”

"It's a pity that Director Wu probably won't direct this film himself. The script for 'Painted Skin' is really interesting; if it's well-made, it could definitely be a hit."

"."

After everyone left, only Wu Chen and Lu Yang remained in the conference room.

Lu Yang has already drawn this version of the storyboard.

Wu Chen was still sitting at the end of the long table, his gaze fixed on the last page of the storyboard for "Painted Skin," before slowly closing it:
"Looks like you've been staying up late a lot lately. You need to get some rest these days. Otherwise, how will you have the energy to direct the film? This project isn't as easy as you think."

(End of this chapter)