I, Hiroshi Nohara, the star of Japanese cinema

Chapter 145 I'm off to the set to film "Seven Samurai"! I can't wait a second longer!
Takada Toshihide had already returned to his office. As usual, he stood with his back to the door in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling window, holding a cup of coffee, overlooking the steel city below.

The air in the office was still.

Iwata Masao, who had just entered, sat humbly on a low stool next to the sofa, like a soulless stone statue.

"Squeak-"

The door was pushed open, and two figures walked in one after the other.

Walking in front was Takashi Ashikaga, whose chin was always slightly raised, and whose eyes always seemed to be arrogantly scrutinizing each prop for its suitability.

Because he is a second-tier director who is among the top three in the field of period dramas on TV Tokyo.

Following behind him was a slightly overweight man with a friendly smile on his face, who looked like a friendly uncle next door.

His name is Asano Kita, and he is also a second-level director. He specializes in period dramas that are full of human warmth.

Although he was smiling, his face still exuded arrogance.

"Deputy Director Takada." But the two of them still bowed respectfully to the mountain-like figure.

"Hmm." Takada Toshihide slowly turned around, his gloomy face revealing neither joy nor anger.

His gaze first swept across the faces of his two trusted generals, and then landed on Iwata Masao, who had kept his head down the whole time, looking like a wooden statue.

"Iwata, let me introduce you." Takada Toshihide's voice was calm: "These two are director Ashikaga Takashi and Asano Takata. They will be assistant directors, helping you complete this film project."

"Director Ashikaga, Director Asano, greetings." Masao Iwata quickly stood up and bowed deeply to the two of them.

His posture was as humble as that of a newcomer to the workplace.

However, Ashikaga Takashi merely pushed up his glasses and let out a barely audible snort, his face utterly indifferent, not even glancing at him directly.

Asano Kita, though still wearing that warm smile, had not a trace of amusement in his narrowed eyes.

That contempt, emanating from the very marrow of his being, was made completely undisguised.

They knew Masao Iwata.

I had already inquired about it before I arrived.

A good-for-nothing who started out making late-night animated films but ended up ruining the project.

In the world of television dramas, he was utterly defeated by that young upstart named Hiroshi Nohara, leaving him no chance to fight back.

Now, they actually... want to ride on the heads of these two veteran directors who have been immersed in the field of period dramas for almost ten years, and become the chief director?
It's simply a horror of slipping the world!

“Deputy Director Takada.” Ashikaga Takashi finally couldn’t hold back. He glanced at Iwata Masao, who was still bowing and looked incredibly comical, and his voice was filled with impatience and arrogance: “Excuse my bluntness, but film projects and television dramas are completely different fields. Isn’t it a bit too hasty to appoint a newcomer like Director Iwata as the general director?”

Although the words were phrased euphemistically, the underlying meaning was crystal clear.

Is he worthy?
The atmosphere in the office instantly became somewhat awkward.

Iwata Masao's already pale face instantly turned a deep liver color, and a hint of resentment at being publicly humiliated flashed in his eyes.

"All right."

However, Takada Toshihide simply smiled calmly.

He walked up to his two arrogant subordinates, patted them heavily on the shoulder, and whispered something to them.

"I know what you're thinking."

He paused, then said helplessly under their gazes, "You have to give me some face, right? This filming assignment is very important, and I also want to give my wife's cousin a chance. So, can you help me out?"

"..."

Ashikaga Takashi and Asano Kita exchanged a glance, both seeing a knowing look in each other's eyes.

Of course they know.

There must be a reason why Deputy Director Takada would entrust a high-level A-list film project worth 300 million to a good-for-nothing with a resume full of failures.

I never expected that he was a relative of Deputy Director Takada.

"Furthermore," Takada Toshihide's tone shifted, a smile returning to his gloomy face, "I assure you, as long as this film is successful, I will try my best to approve more funding for your future productions, is that alright? And I will also apply to Director Sakata for your application to become an independent production department."

This tempting promise, like two powerful stimulants, instantly dispelled all the resentment in their hearts!

They looked at Toshihide Takada and bowed in unison: "We understand!"

"Very good." Takada Toshihide nodded in satisfaction.

He knew that these two unruly wild horses had been temporarily tethered to his chariot.

"Alright, sit down, all of you." He waved his hand, gesturing for the three to sit, and then returned to his desk, a symbol of power. "Now, let's get down to business."

"I've already read the script for 'The Samurai of the Cherry Blossom Tree.' The story's framework is good, very much in the style of our Tokyo School—glamorous, exciting, and full of commercial elements. However, there are a few points that I need you to pay special attention to."

He looked at Masao Iwata: "Iwata, I don't care how you shoot it or what techniques you use. I only have one requirement—the male and female leads must get plenty of screen time! Especially the male lead! I want him to be impeccably handsome from beginning to end! Understand? Otherwise, the big investor behind it will be very dissatisfied! Do I need to tell you what will happen then?"

“Yes! I understand!” Masao Iwata nodded emphatically.

Of course he understands.

This male lead is the favorite character of Chairman Sato Tokugawa's Persian cat!
If this isn't filmed well, the director himself might not even know how he died.

Ashikaga Takashi and Asano Kita exchanged another glance, both seeing a knowing, mischievous smile in each other's eyes.

They understand it all too well.

Isn't this the most typical example of "bringing capital into the team"?

It seems that the "big spender" behind Iwata values ​​this male lead quite a bit.

"Alright, next question." Takada Toshihide ignored the undercurrent of conversation and looked at the two real technical backbones, asking casually, "I heard that old guy Kurosawa Eiji is... also preparing to make a samurai film?"

“Yes, Deputy Director.” Ashikaga Takashi pushed up his glasses, his voice filled with undisguised contempt: “What’s it called… ‘The Samurai in the Blacksmith’s Shop’? I’ve heard about it. A story about a fake samurai, an old-fashioned theme. And I heard that the board of directors has already cut his budget down to only 300 million yen.”

"Three hundred million? With his stubborn old temper, what kind of film can he possibly produce?"

Asano Kita scoffed, his usually amiable face now filled with schadenfreude: "I heard that, for his so-called 'artistic pursuits,' he insists on using an unknown stage actor as the male lead, instead of any popular idol stars. That's simply... courting death!"

“That’s right!” Ashikaga Takashi’s voice was full of superiority: “What do audiences want to see these days? Handsome men! Beautiful women! Gorgeous special effects! Exciting fights! Who has the patience to watch his preachy, outdated tragedies? His stuff is completely obsolete!”

“A few days ago, I even asked someone to take a look at his closed film set.”

Asano Kita seemed to remember something, and a strange look of anticipation appeared on his face: "You guys didn't see it! The scene was simply unbelievable! It's said that in pursuit of so-called 'realism,' he actually made the actors roll around in the mud for a whole week! The final product was covered in dirt and grime, not a trace of the elegance and beauty of our Tokyo style. It was like... a bunch of beggars fighting in a garbage dump!"

This sarcastic description caused the entire office to erupt in suppressed laughter.

Takada Toshihide also smiled.

That laughter was filled with the confidence of someone who had everything under control.

He knew he was going to win.

One is a lavish samurai epic that cost 300 million yuan, starred popular idols, and was full of commercial elements.

The other one, also costing 300 million yuan, was a dull, artsy film made by a washed-up old stubborn man and a group of unknown actors, who rolled around in the mud. It was full of a "poor and shabby" feel.

The outcome of this war was already decided before it even began.

"very good."

Takada Toshihide slowly stood up and smiled, "I don't care what methods you use. Throw money at it, pile on special effects, hire the best martial arts choreographers, use the most dazzling shots... I only have one request."

He looked at the three men, his eyes flashing with a chilling madness: "This year's New Year's Eve movie season, I'm going to make that old guy lose everything, down to his last last penny! I'm going to let everyone know who this era truly belongs to!"

Having already suffered numerous defeats against the Kanto faction, Takada Toshihide is determined to launch a decisive counterattack in the film industry!

Unbeknownst to them, right next door, a far more terrifying and deadly divine project, capable of utterly crushing all their schemes, had already quietly begun.

In this war that belongs to cinema, the real contestant has never been Eiji Kurosawa, a hero whose days are numbered.

Rather, it possesses the foundation of an entire parallel neon world of arts and culture—

Nohara Hiroshi!

……

"Let's go! Nohara-kun! Let's go now! To the film set!" Kurosawa Eiji was extremely excited.

"Huh?!" This time it was Hiroshi Nohara's turn to be stunned: "Now? Director Kurosawa, this... this is too fast! We haven't even finalized the details of the script yet, the actors, the location, the props... these are all still just castles in the air."

“Those are not problems!” Eiji Kurosawa was like a sleeping lion that had been awakened in an instant, exuding the obsession and fanaticism of a top creator!
He pulled out his portable mobile phone, a rarity in this era, his movements so fast they left a blur, dialed a number, and unleashed a roar into the receiver filled with unwavering authority:
"Hey! It's me! Kurosawa! Pass the word down! The entire 'Samurai in the Blacksmith' project team, immediately! Right now! Assemble at Toho's Studio Seven!" "Rebuild that Sengoku-era village set! Yes! That one! Just a few minor modifications! I want the most dilapidated, the most impoverished, the kind that best captures the despair of the peasants! Props team! Dig out all the rusty samurai swords and tattered armor from the warehouse!"

"And another thing! Costume team! I need a hundred sets of the most tattered peasant clothes! The kind that smell of mud and sweat! This afternoon! I need to see a perfect, impoverished mountain village from the Warring States period that I can start filming right away this afternoon!"

Those commands came out like a series of machine gun shots, "rat-a-tat-tat," making Hiroshi Nohara's eyes twitch.

"Let's go, Nohara-kun." After hanging up the phone, Eiji Kurosawa grabbed Hiroshi Nohara and headed outside without saying another word.

Hiroshi Nohara had no choice but to get into the black minivan that belonged to Eiji Kurosawa.

……

A black minivan speeds through Tokyo's traffic.

The interior of the car was so spacious it was like a small mobile office. The driver was driving steadily in front, and the air was filled with the aroma of bento boxes.

Because the driver really did buy a bento box from the convenience store.

It's noon now.

"Here, Nohara-kun, don't be shy, have something to eat first."

Eiji Kurosawa, like the most enthusiastic host, handed over two luxurious bento boxes that looked quite expensive, containing everything from A5 grade Kobe beef to Hokkaido sea urchin.

It's clearly a deluxe bento box.

Furthermore, Eiji Kurosawa added, "We can eat in the car. We're in a hurry. I'm really sorry."

Of course, he said he was sorry, but there was no real apology in his tone.

Only fanaticism and excitement.

Hiroshi Nohara accepted the bento box, which could sell for tens of thousands of yen outside, with a wry smile. The helplessness he felt from being "kidnapped" was somewhat diluted by the old man's pure creative passion.

"Director Eiji Kurosawa, the location and props are easy to arrange, but what about the actors?"

Hiroshi Nohara elegantly picked up a slice of Wagyu beef with snowflake-like patterns using his chopsticks, and asked casually, "Seven samurai with very different personalities, and that farmer Kikuchiyo who is both righteous and evil, this is not something that can be easily fooled by just hiring a few extras."

"Well..."

Upon hearing this, Eiji Kurosawa magically produced a thick, beautifully bound booklet, as thick as a dictionary, from his briefcase and casually tossed it over: "Take a look at this."

"This is..." Hiroshi Nohara instinctively caught it, turned to the first page, and his pupils suddenly contracted!
The above is neither a script nor any information.

Instead, they were exquisitely crafted actor cards!
Each card features an actor's half-body photo, artistic portrait, and an outrageously detailed resume—from height, weight, and measurements to their alma mater, all the works they've acted in, and even their preferred roles and reputation within the industry, all clearly marked.

Most importantly, without exception, all the actors included in this booklet are from the Kanto school!
"Director Kurosawa, I have a feeling... I seem to have walked into a trap that you set up long ago?" Hiroshi Nohara looked up at the old man opposite him who was chuckling, a helpless expression on his face.

"Ahem!" Eiji Kurosawa's face flushed red, and he quickly covered up his unease with a cough.

He turned his head and pretended to look at the scenery outside the window, forcibly putting on the airs of a master: "Well... I'm just... being prepared. After all, although we from the Kanto school are severely suppressed by those guys in the film industry, when it comes to the actors' skills and dedication, we are in no way inferior to them!"

This statement, which was full of protectiveness, made Hiroshi Nohara burst into laughter.

He knew that this seemingly aloof old man cared more about the collective honor belonging to the "Guandong faction" than anyone else.

He said no more, but turned his attention back to the thick "list of actors".

His fingers flew across the familiar and unfamiliar faces.

Those actors who left behind countless classic images on the screen in their past lives now lie quietly in this small booklet, like rows of soldiers waiting for inspection.

In Japan, producers and directors truly wield supreme power.

You could say he's the king of film crews!
Compared to the Chinese film crews of the past, and the Chinese directors who were in a weak position, it was truly different.

But that’s fine too.

In Hiroshi Nohara's mind, the magnificent hall belonging to "Seven Samurai" that had been dormant for a long time was completely awakened at this moment!
"Kanbei needs an actor with leadership qualities and a look that seems to have seen through the vicissitudes of life... So, let's go with him, Taiji Miyoshi. I've seen his performance in 'Tales of the Unusual,' and his unwavering presence is perfect for the role."

"Kikuchiyo, this character is the most complex. He comes from a peasant background, yet he yearns to become a samurai. He possesses a wild, animalistic vitality and a childlike innocence... Makino Shunpei, yes, that's him! In those eyes, there is a wild beast that could break free at any moment!"

"Kyuzo, a taciturn swordsmanship master, is as calm as a machine when he kills... Hmm, this newcomer is not bad, Fushimi Ryuji, his eyes are very clear and cold."

……

His fingers traced the names on the booklet one by one, and he casually uttered each name.

The way he was acting made it seem like he wasn't casting for an epic film.

Instead, he would casually pick a few of his favorite flowers in his own backyard.

Eiji Kurosawa listened quietly.

He looked at the young man and cooperated unconditionally!
"Alright, let's make it seven of them."

In just a short while, Hiroshi Nohara closed the thick list, having finished his selection.

He thought for a moment and continued:

"As for the roles of farmers and bandits, that's even easier. We can just pick a few dozen from the amateur contestants in our 'Super Transformation' show who have strong performance skills. Their simplicity and wildness are something that no professional actor can imitate."

This casting logic, which defies common sense, left Eiji Kurosawa completely stunned.

Using...using a group of ordinary people who participate in comedy variety shows to act in a movie?
This...this is simply...unheard of!

However, before he could recover from this shocking revelation, the young man did something even more astonishing, which made his eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.

"Director Kurosawa, could I borrow some paper and pen?" Hiroshi Nohara asked.

"Huh? Oh!" Eiji Kurosawa seemed to wake from a dream, and quickly took out a stack of brand-new A4 drawing paper and a Montblanc pen that looked very high-end from the hidden compartment in the car.

These are all provided in the car; he also writes a little something.

"Thank you." Hiroshi Nohara took the paper and pen without the slightest hesitation.

The pen tip falls, quickly creating a simple sketch.

The car fell completely silent.

As only the pen tip glides across the paper, the soft rustling sound is like the spinning wheel of fate, weaving a brand new legend about to be born.

Eiji Kurosawa stared blankly.

He watched as the ragged peasants knelt humbly before the down-on-his-luck warrior in the rain, their eyes filled with despair and hope.

He watched as the seven warriors, each with a distinct personality, gathered for the first time at the village entrance. Under the banner bearing their respective images, the seven figures stood like seven insurmountable mountains between heaven and earth.

He even saw it—the tragic final battle filled with mud and blood!
The precise paneling, the composition brimming with tension, the words conveying the glory of a warrior, the cunning of a peasant, and the desolation of a chaotic world…

Like the sharpest samurai sword, it fiercely cleaved through the mental shackles that had long been bound by the conventions of traditional samurai films!

"This...this is..." There was an uncontrollable tremor in his voice.

He had assumed that the young man was simply giving him a general outline of a story.

But to his utter surprise, the other party actually... actually used this almost divine revelation method to vividly present every shot and every scene of a movie that had not yet started filming right before his eyes!

This cannot be simply summarized by the word "genius".

This is an almost monstrous, absolute dominance over the art of photography!
"Phew! Alright!"

When Hiroshi Nohara put down his pen and gently pushed the thick stack of drawings, still smelling of fresh ink, in front of him, Eiji Kurosawa felt his breath catch in his throat.

He reached out with trembling hands and took it, quickly flipping through the contents.

"Nohara-kun..."

Finally, Eiji Kurosawa slowly raised his head and looked at Hiroshi Nohara, all the pride that belonged to the master of samurai films had faded from his face.

All that remained was a sigh: "You really are a monster!"

Who can come up with a brilliant idea from just a few conversations?
Who can easily draw countless storyboards?

Who would say no without a word...

They dared to go directly to the film set and decide to shoot the film, without the slightest fear?
Now, in Eiji Kurosawa's eyes.

Hiroshi Nohara is not a monster.

What else could it be?!

(End of this chapter)