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Back to the ’90s to Make Movies

Chapter 11 / 35

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Chapter 11 of 35

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Chapter 11: Assembling the Crew (2)

Back to the ’90s to Make Movies

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The longer Chi Ying worked with Director Han, the more she realized that although the woman appeared gentle and soft-spoken, she was incredibly efficient when it came to getting things done.

The day after they visited Lei Dongmin’s office, Chi Ying arrived at work that morning and noticed Director Han wasn’t there. She asked one of the finance staff and learned that Director Han hadn’t come to the office at all. Instead, she had gone straight to Beijing Film Studio to follow through on the staffing arrangements they had discussed the day before.

Sister Zhang wasn’t at the center either. She had gone directly to the bureau to submit the project approval report. They expected to hear back within a day or two.Full novel: Back to the ’90s to Make Movies — read the rest free on N​o⁠v​e⁠l​C⁠o​d⁠e​x⁠.​o⁠r​g⁠

When Director Han returned that afternoon, she brought with her a capable-looking young woman with short hair who couldn’t have been more than thirty. After introducing her to everyone, Director Han announced that this was Sun Yanyan, whom she had borrowed over to help out.

Only later did Chi Ying and the others learn that Sun Yanyan had worked as a production coordinator at Beijing Film Studio a few years earlier. She had wanted to do real production work and had entered the workforce full of enthusiasm, but because she was too straightforward and honest, she’d quickly found herself sidelined. Eventually, she had been reassigned to the back office to help with financial work instead.

When Director Han went to the studio looking for personnel this time, the studio director recommended Sun Yanyan to the Planning Center.

Director Han was meticulous in everything she did. She even asked around through acquaintances to understand the full story behind Sun Yanyan’s situation. Thinking the young woman was a perfect fit, she brought her back without hesitation.

Sun Yanyan herself was even more decisive. After talking with Director Han and understanding exactly what the Planning Center wanted her to do, she packed up all her belongings at Beijing Film Studio in no time. She even gathered a stack of the studio’s standard film production contract templates and brought them along.

She was unbelievably reliable.

A few days later, the filming permit was approved as well. Lei Dongmin kept his word. The full 1.5 million yuan arrived in one payment and was deposited directly into the Planning Center’s newly opened production account.

From there on, most of the work rested on Chi Ying’s shoulders.

The first person she contacted was cinematographer Lu Wei.

If the director was the soul of a film, then the cinematographer was its anchor. After all, everything the audience saw depended entirely on the camera.

From the very beginning, Chi Ying had already decided that Lu Wei would shoot her first film. Whether based on their previous collaborations or on everything he would accomplish in his previous life, whether considering his technical skills or his mastery of visual storytelling, Lu Wei was the best cinematographer she could possibly find at this stage.

She paged him several times before finally receiving a callback.

When Lu Wei heard over the phone that Chi Ying wanted him to shoot a film, he was stunned. His voice sounded low and hesitant. After a long silence, he asked again to make sure.

“You want me to shoot a movie? You’re sure?”

“I’m absolutely sure,” Chi Ying replied without hesitation.

She briefly explained the situation and emphasized that the funding was already secured. They were currently in the crew-building stage.

Another long pause followed before Lu Wei finally said, “When can I join the production?”

“Whenever you want. The sooner, the better…”

“I could come over right now. Would that work?”

Hearing the disbelief in his voice, Chi Ying answered with even greater certainty.

“You can come right now. I’m at the Planning Center office in the Film Research Center building. It’s not far from our school. You know where it is. Our production manager is in the office next door. Once you get here, we can sign your contract immediately.”

Many years later, after Chi Ying and Lu Wei had gone from being long-time partners to eventually parting ways professionally, with Lu Wei striking out on his own as a director, they still remained the best of friends.

One time, while reminiscing about the old days together, they talked about this very moment.

To Chi Ying’s surprise, Lu Wei actually teared up.

Because, according to him, by the time he received her phone call, he had almost decided to leave Beijing and give up filmmaking altogether.

That day, he had been hiding in a dark corner on the rooftop of a record company’s building, smoking by himself. He had just been chewed out by the company’s owner because the music video he had poured his heart into had been dismissed by the client as complete garbage.

Looking back, Lu Wei often laughed at himself for taking things too seriously.

When shooting an MV, neither the song’s story nor the artistic expression through the camera really mattered. The only thing that mattered was making the singer look beautiful.

It was simply a job to pay the bills, not the work of visual art Lu Wei had imagined it to be.

Originally, Chi Ying thought it would already be good enough if Lu Wei’s hiring was finalized by the end of the day.

Instead, less than an hour later, she received a phone call from the security guard at the front entrance saying someone was looking for her.

Completely puzzled, Chi Ying went downstairs and discovered it was Lu Wei.

She was dumbfounded.

He had arrived so quickly. He must have taken a taxi.

Then again, it didn’t quite seem like it. Taxis were outrageously expensive these days and certainly weren’t the preferred transportation for newcomers like them. Besides, if he had taken a taxi the whole way, he shouldn’t have been standing there gasping for breath and drenched in sweat.

She blurted out, “How did you get here?”

“I took a taxi.”

“Where did you take it from?” she asked as she led him upstairs.

When Lu Wei named the location, she nearly jumped.

“Are you trying to bankrupt yourself?”

Lu Wei smiled bitterly.

Although Chi Ying had explained everything clearly over the phone, deep down he had been terrified that it was all just another dream. He had immediately abandoned everything at the record company, rushed downstairs, hailed the first taxi he saw, and sped straight over.

It was July. The taxi’s air conditioning barely worked. The driver had talked nonstop the entire ride. Lu Wei himself had been so anxious he could barely sit still. Then, just before arriving, they got stuck in traffic.

Unable to wait any longer, he got out early and sprinted through side streets to the building.

Which was why he looked like this now.

Only after seeing the filming permit stamped with its bright red official seal did Lu Wei truly believe that everything was real.

His eyes even became a little misty.

Lu Wei signed his service contract in Sun Yanyan’s office.

Sun Yanyan knew the industry well. As the film’s production manager, she offered him a fair rate.

When Lu Wei saw the amount listed in the contract, he hesitated.

At first, Sun Yanyan thought he felt it was too little and was about to explain.

Instead, his response left her speechless.

“How about lowering it? I can take less…”

Sun Yanyan burst into laughter.

Looking at Lu Wei reminded her of herself when she had first arrived at Beijing Film Studio. He was overflowing with passion for filmmaking, earnest to a fault, and strangely adorable.

“We should stick to the standard rate,” she said. “Let’s start things off properly. We’ve got a long road ahead of us.”

Then she explained further.

“Our funding isn’t exactly abundant, but we’re not so poor that we’d shortchange everyone’s wages. Besides, labor costs are the small expenses. The real money disappears into the film stock. I’ll be thanking heaven if you all can be a little more careful once filming starts.”

That was the honest truth.

Lu Wei nodded, picked up the pen, and signed his name at the end of the contract.

Chi Ying noticed that his hand was trembling.

Once the contract was signed, Lu Wei officially became one of their own, and it was time to put him to work.

Chi Ying handed him the script and storyboard.

“Everything on the cinematography side is up to you now. There’s a lot to do. You definitely can’t handle it alone. You’ll need someone dedicated to delivering each day’s rushes to the film lab, and you’ll have to supervise that process too.”

Originally, Chi Ying had planned to borrow several senior classmates who had been assigned to other film studios.

She had calculated things carefully.

Since everyone belonged to the national film system, if the Planning Center requested temporary transfers, those studios probably wouldn’t refuse. Since the request came from a central government-affiliated organization, they’d even consider it an honor. The transferred staff would continue receiving salaries from their original employers, meaning her production wouldn’t have to spend a single cent. Meanwhile, those employees would gain valuable production experience, build their résumés, and expand their professional networks.

Everyone would benefit.

But now, time was too tight.

Temporary transfers meant asking around, filing reports, and going through official procedures.

Beijing Film Studio was different.

Since this was a Huaying Group production, the studio would also share in the profits later. Borrowing personnel or equipment was practically a matter of saying a single word.

After looking through the storyboards, Lu Wei felt the job wasn’t particularly difficult.

“How about I go back to school and recruit some junior students who are about to graduate?”

“Keep it low-key,” Chi Ying reminded him. “And don’t bring too many people. Otherwise it’ll be difficult for me to cover everyone’s wages.”

“What are you talking about?” Lu Wei laughed. “Who needs wages? Just feed them. I’m telling you, when I was still in school, if I’d had a chance like this to work on a real movie, I’d have done it even without meals.”

Chi Ying smiled awkwardly.

“You decide. Once they’re here, we’ll definitely provide food and lodging. After filming wraps up, we’ll also see if we can issue internship certificates or something similar for everyone.”

“Deal. It’s summer vacation anyway. They don’t have classes and are all free. It’ll work.”

Chi Ying also went over the overall production schedule with him.

The film’s shooting period wasn’t very long. They absolutely had to release it before November because after that they’d have to make way for Ma Yuanchao’s New Year’s film.

She had no intention of competing for the holiday release window.

People like Ma Yuanchao were Huaying’s lucky stars and Lei Dongmin’s prized treasures.

One had to know when to stay out of the way.

With Lu Wei’s side settled, his entire demeanor changed.

He was full of energy again, eager to head straight back to school and recruit his team.

“Do you still have anything to deal with at your old workplace?” Chi Ying asked before he walked out.

“What old workplace?” Lu Wei snorted. “I’ve had more than enough of shooting that kind of crap. To hell with it. My destination is the stars and the sea. We’re going to make movies!”

His enthusiasm made Chi Ying laugh.

She waved him off and sent him out to get to work.

Lu Wei was just as efficient as Director Han.

The very next day, he brought back two junior male students and one junior female student from the film academy, instantly forming the core of the camera department.

Sun Yanyan rented an entire floor of the Beijing Film Studio guesthouse to serve as the production’s headquarters. Lu Wei and his three assistants became the first professional crew members to move in.

After that, Lu Wei and his three eager followers worked as though they had been injected with adrenaline.

Dragging Sun Yanyan along, they made frequent trips to Beijing Film Studio. Borrowing the studio’s prestige wherever they could, they cajoled and persuaded people into lending them a complete set of camera equipment.

They even managed to wrangle the use of an internal soundstage.

Chi Ying never had to worry about any of it.

Practice had proven one thing beyond doubt.

Find the right people, and half the work is already done.

…

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Full novel: Back to the ’90s to Make Movies — read the rest free on N​o⁠v​e⁠l​C⁠o​d⁠e​x⁠.​o⁠r​g⁠
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