sovbooks Chapter 79 Let them watch the movie first
Chapter 79 Let them watch the movie first
Chen Yan stood in front of the projection room in Hall 2 of the Grand Palace.
He was carrying the silver aluminum copy box in his hand, his knuckles bracing against the door panel.
"Mr. Luca, check the projection tunnel."
Chen Yan pushed open the door and entered.
The computer room was filled with the smell of machine oil and overheated film, and several beams of light were shining into the empty space.
Luca took the pipe out of his mouth and pointed to the worktable.
"Director Chen, the jury members are now seated."
"But before you can broadcast it, you have to give an explanation for yesterday's incident."
Chen Yan placed the copy box flat on the metal table and unlocked it.
"show."
He said.
"We'll talk about the rest after these ninety minutes are up."
Luca shrugged, his withered fingers flicking the red start switch.
The gears mesh, driving the conveyor belt to rotate.
The film passes through the optical sensor head, producing a regular clicking sound.
The lights in the screening room went out one by one.
The screen lit up, and a bright white light illuminated the backs of the heads of the thirty media personnel in the front row.
The camera cuts in.
Against a backdrop of dark, plastic film, Lin Qingqiu's pale hand emerged from the mud.
Black, rotten grass roots were stuffed between his fingers, and his nails were covered with fine cracks.
A heavy, whistling breathing sound came from the speaker.
This is not dubbing.
This is a technique Chen Yan learned in his previous life: suspending a highly sensitive microphone five centimeters below the actor's collar to capture the vibrations in the lungs caused by muscle contractions.
The previously noisy audience seats fell silent.
Several Parker pens rested on the notebook, their nibs hovering over the paper.
Lin Qingqiu's close-up shot filled the entire screen.
The veins on her forehead bulged out from the pressure, and the bloodshot eyes looked like a spider web under the macro lens.
There was no background music.
The only sound in the video is the muffled thud of mud dripping onto withered leaves.
as well as.
A distant, faint rumble of thunder, carrying a sense of electricity.
"The visual quality..."
A man in a plaid vest in the front row put down his recording pen.
He is a columnist for the magazine "Audiovisual".
He turned his head and whispered to his colleague beside him:
"The light was slanted, and the edges were intentionally left with damaged black borders."
"This is not a scene that a thirteen-year-old could orchestrate."
The other female reporter ignored her; she was quickly sketching on a piece of paper.
"Pay attention to your body language."
"With each breath she took, the muscles in her abdomen spasmed rhythmically."
"This is top-notch performance control."
The images on the screen rotated again.
The clock tower collapsed.
It was a long take that lasted three minutes.
Chen Yan did not use any post-production special effects, but instead used live-action footage of miniature models combined with slow-motion slow-motion.
The moment the blue bricks crumbled, the particles of dust seemed to pierce through the screen.
Lin Qingqiu walked under the ruins.
The long-handled black umbrella she was holding was torn to shreds by the blast wave.
The silk fan fluttered down from the air, like a huge, charred feather.
She didn't turn around; her back was ramrod straight.
The fabric of the cheongsam at the waist took on an eerie deep purple hue amidst the dust.
The thunder suddenly rose in volume.
As the final blackout occurred, a dull thud echoed from the speakers.
That's the sound of the film being tapped on the reel after the film has finished rolling.
"Smack."
"Slap. Slap. Slap."
The applause started from the back row.
Soro, a journalist from the Italian film magazine Cahiers du Cinéma, stood up.
He pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses and turned to look at Chen Yan, who was standing at the exit of the control room.
"Mr. Chen, I withdraw my previous question."
Solo closed his notebook and walked up to Chen Yan.
"No matter where that 'Old City Rain Sounds' came from."
"The film 'Thunder' before us has surpassed all existing controversies in its audiovisual language."
"That is pure restraint, unique to adult geniuses."
Solo spread his hands and looked at the other reporters.
"We cannot deny an established art form just because of a trap that has not yet been proven."
The other reporters put away their recording pens, and their gazes shifted away from Chen Yan.
Chen Yan pulled a stack of photos from his pocket and threw them onto the long table in the screening room.
"Mr. Solo, and everyone else."
"This is the truth you want."
Reporters gathered around.
First photo: The side of the aluminum alloy copy box.
The image clearly shows the label that was cut open and then re-attached with inferior glue.
The second photo: a cut-off section of film with burn marks.
Chen Yan pointed to the edge of the photo.
"This is our original seal."
"The serial number on it is SH-001."
"And the videotape that was shown in Hall 3 last night has absolutely no official record of being stored in the archives."
Chen Yan looked at Luca at the back of the crowd.
Luca looked down at his fingernails.
Chen Yan continued speaking.
"The third piece of evidence."
He took out a printed electronic spreadsheet.
"This is the log of the back-end server of Hall 2, Omiya."
"At 7:35 p.m. last night, someone connected a non-standard video recorder to the external interface of the projector."
"The timecode shows that it ran for fifteen minutes."
"At that point in time, my producer and I were being kept out of the door of the technical verification room."
Solo bent down to examine the data sheet.
"Someone wants to kill this movie in Venice by using copyright forgery."
Chen Yan put the photos away.
"I think everyone knows who the spearhead is aimed at."
The side door was pushed open.
Several people dressed in film festival uniforms walked in.
The leader was Marco's team's chief technical advisor.
He walked up to Luca and took off his hat.
"Luca. Come with me to the organizing committee office."
"You need to explain the origin of that illegally connected media player."
Luca hunched his shoulders.
He didn't look at Chen Yan, and followed the others out of the screening room.
Before leaving, he passed by Henry.
Henry was leaning against the corner of the wall, holding an unlit cigar in his hand.
Henry's face was ashen.
He stuffed the cigar back into his pocket, preparing to blend into the departing crowd.
"Mr. Henry."
Su Wan stepped forward and blocked the side door.
She was holding a blue letter of intent.
"Mr. Harvey of Miramax, did you only teach you how to play the copyright trap game?"
Henry stopped, his gaze shifting back and forth between Su Wan and Chen Yan.
"It's just a misunderstanding."
"A technical misunderstanding."
Vincent strode over.
His face was flushed, and beads of sweat glistened on his forehead under the light.
He grabbed Henry by the collar.
"Get out of my way!"
"I just received a call from the French Film Association."
"They have already seen the recording of today's preview screening."
Vincent turned to look at Chen Yan, his tone urgent.
"Chen. The screening schedule for those thirty screens in France remains unchanged."
"I just took it upon myself to add twenty more seats to the screening for the media in Paris."
"Those Gauls have gone mad; they say you captured the rain in the East."
Su Wan handed Vincent a napkin.
"Mr. Vincent, please calm down."
"Sign this document; the German film distributors were just waiting for it."
Su Wan pointed to the opposite side of the corridor.
A middle-aged German man wearing a dark gray overcoat was nodding to Chen Yan.
That's the COO of Berlin Film Studios.
Su Wan spoke.
"Pre-orders in four countries have now doubled in price."
Vincent picked up his pen.
"sign."
"Sign immediately."
He wrote his name heavily on both contracts.
The paper made a slight tearing sound due to excessive force.
The crowd dispersed.
The screening room fell silent again.
Zhang Yuan walked in carrying an empty suitcase and punched Chen Yan in the chest.
"It's done, Director Chen."
"The way those reporters acted changed faster than changing film reels."
Chen Yan didn't say anything.
He walked to the corner of the screening room.
Henry was still standing there.
He seemed to be waiting for something.
Chen Yan walked two steps away from him.
"You haven't left yet."
Henry looked around.
He leaned closer to Chen Yan, his body slightly forward.
A smell of cheap tobacco and mint wafted over.
Henry pulled a gold room key from the inside pocket of his suit jacket.
The room key card reads: Danielli Hotel, Room 302.
He pressed the room key onto the projector base and tapped it three times with his fingertip.
"Mr. Lu asked me to pass on a message."
Henry's voice was very low.
He's not here to destroy you.
"Ruining a director has no commercial value for him."
Chen Yan stared at the room key.
Henry continued speaking.
"He wants to buy your destiny."
"Thunder is just a bargaining chip."
"Nine o'clock tonight. Bring that copy of 'Rain in the Old City' that he didn't finish burning."
"Mr. Lu wants to see how much your life is worth."
After Henry finished speaking, he didn't linger.
He strode across the corridor, his figure disappearing into the blinding midday sun of Marco Polo Square.
Chen Yan picked up the room key.
The metal edge cut into my fingertip, sending a chill through me.
Su Wan walked behind him.
Don't go.
"He's already lost the first round, and now he wants to drag you back into the mire."
Chen Yan stuffed the room key into his pocket.
He looked down at the pile of film scraps at his feet that hadn't been cleaned up yet.
"He wasn't trying to kill me."
"He wanted to buy the truth that he had covered up for twenty years."
Chen Yan raised his head and looked at the window at the end of the corridor.
Outside is the St. Mark's Campanile.
The clock has stopped striking twelve.
Flocks of pigeons took flight and circled over the bright blue sea.
Chen Yan turned around and gave Zhang Yuan the order.
"Go get that film negative."
"Since he wants to talk about the price, we'll cut his chips into pieces and show them to him."
He stepped out of the computer room.
The leather shoes made a dull thud as they stepped on the dark red velvet carpet.
Those were the footsteps that marked the start of the final scene.