Chapter 142: Do You Even Know What Youth Is All About?
Director Wang Dagang once held immense confidence in this project. He even went as far as drafting a plan to shoot four films in one go. After all, as a novelist himself, he was well aware of the book’s sales figures. Surely, adapting it into a film would guarantee a box-office explosion, right?
However, he misjudged the current market. His style of unbridled, adolescent angst had long since been phased out by the audience. Or perhaps, having moved past their own teenage years, the public’s aesthetic sensibilities had returned to a normal state. Expecting them to buy into this? It was as difficult as ascending to heaven.
Consequently, when "Our Youth" was released, the box office didn't just bomb; it imploded. With an investment of four hundred million, it only recouped one hundred million. According to standard film revenue-sharing models, one-third goes to the investors, one-third to the theaters, and only the final third reaches the production team. Furthermore, that doesn't even account for production costs. Thus, "Our Youth" needed at least one point two billion in box office revenue just to break even. It ended up earning less than one-twelfth of the projected goal.
At the time, Wang Dagang suffered a complete mental breakdown. The film became a stain on his career, and many investors surely cursed him in their dreams. Of course, this was only the "black history" in the eyes of the public. Wang Dagang himself did not see it that way. He remained steadfast in his belief that his work represented the youth of a generation—an eternal, classic masterpiece. He insisted that the poor box office was merely the result of malicious sabotage by rivals. He believed that no one truly understood the youth he had penned, and that one day, the film would be vindicated.
Alas, years later, the film remains a disaster in the eyes of countless people. A critical turnaround? It simply doesn't exist. After all, the "youth" in Wang Dagang’s writing is quite easy to understand, and it is simply not accepted by the masses. Many who watch it can only sigh and remark, "Is this person insane?"
Seeing that he could not get the result he wanted, Wang Dagang eventually fell silent and moved on to other projects. If he hadn't later transitioned into television dramas—filming several idol shows that were melodramatic but enjoyed decent ratings—he likely wouldn't have a place in the industry today. But that is a digression.
***
Bai Ling could only make a few associations based on the memories she had. Holding the script, she felt rather awkward. Not a single character in this story was remotely normal. What was she supposed to do with this? However, there was no turning back now; she couldn't very well demand that everyone abandon the script. That would be a surefire way to offend Wang Dagang.
There was no need for that. In Bai Ling’s impression, the man was incredibly petty. He already held a grudge against her, and throughout these past few episodes, he had been passive-aggressive toward her. While it wasn't blatant, as the person on the receiving end, Bai Ling couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. If it weren't for the fact that the esteemed teacher Zhuge Tianguang was on her side and frequently stepped in to ease the tension, Bai Ling might have ended up in a heated argument with Wang Dagang.
"Let’s divide the roles," film emperor Lin Yubai began. "Wen Yan will play Bi Xiaoxiao, and Bai Ling, you are better suited for Hou Feifei. Su Zhaolin, can you accept the role of Gong Jiasong?"
As a film emperor, his professionalism went without saying. This distribution was free of personal bias, based entirely on the characteristics of each actor. Su Zhaolin nodded without hesitation. "Sure!" He was, after all, a fading star; regardless of whether the role was good or bad, he had no choice but to accept it. Moreover, Lin Yubai’s assignment was actually quite reasonable.
As for Bai Ling, nothing more needed to be said. You can't find gold in a pile of trash. The character of Hou Feifei was of humble origin but breathtakingly beautiful, the complete opposite of Wen Yan’s character, Bi Xiaoxiao. As for Su Zhaolin’s Gong Jiasong, he, like Bi Xiaoxiao, came from a wealthy background, and their families even had close ties. The two were childhood sweethearts, expected by all to end up together. It was a perfect match, as they say!
But "Our Youth" insisted on straying from the beaten path. A perfect match? That was feudal dross! Thus, as a young master of a wealthy family, Gong Jiasong was destined to resist Bi Xiaoxiao and fall for the beautiful, independent, and self-reliant Hou Feifei. Conversely, Bi Xiaoxiao would also resist contact with Gong Jiasong and fall for Gu Tianhong, played by Lin Yubai. In keeping with the theme of "symmetrical literature," Gu Tianhong was a poor boy of humble origins with an intense sense of pride.
The four were caught in a complex web of unrequited love and resentment. The scene they were tasked with performing was one where, after a fight with Gu Tianhong, Bi Xiaoxiao goes to Gong Jiasong for comfort. At that moment, Gong Jiasong realizes that Hou Feifei loves her own prospects more than she loves him, so in a drunken stupor, the two cross the line. Coincidentally, this scene is walked in on by Hou Feifei and Gu Tianhong. The four lovers then proceed to slap each other, pull each other's hair, and smash things, before storming out and declaring they will sever all ties and abandon love forever.
Naturally, one doesn't need to guess what happens next; as the screenwriter and original author, Wang Dagang surely arranged for a heart-wrenching journey of self-discovery for them. Eventually, they would reconcile, ending the film on a "happy ending." If there were a sequel, it would likely involve new, trivial misunderstandings appearing in their peaceful lives, leading to another breakup, another round of fighting, and another path toward reconciliation.
Thank goodness... thank goodness this film never got a second installment. Otherwise, it would truly be a sin—the viewers and film-review YouTubers would have suffered greatly. Of course, the unlucky one right now was Bai Ling.
After receiving the script and her role, Bai Ling took her leave. As always, she skipped the rehearsals. She would set aside even good scripts, let alone this piece of work. Although Lin Yubai and the others had heard that Bai Ling didn't rehearse, seeing it confirmed left a subtle expression on their faces. As for Wen Yan, she had cursed Bai Ling in her heart countless times.
"What is she pretending for? She says she won't rehearse, but who knows how hard she’s working behind the scenes!" Wen Yan thought. "I refuse to believe I’ll lose to you this time! I’ve already read the script and practiced it."
Indeed, the production team had opened a back door for Wen Yan. Even Lin Yubai getting the script was part of their calculation. Since they wanted to make a big splash, they had to be prepared.
However, Wen Yan was wrong about one thing. After Bai Ling went home, she truly did not practice. For a good script, Bai Ling would be eager to practice and hone her craft. But for this script? What was she supposed to do? Act out that hysterical feeling? Become a female version of a "roaring emperor"? That was entirely unnecessary.