Chapter Ninety-Four: A Reminder from the Variety Show

Although digital cameras had already emerged by the beginning of 2004, the texture of film was still unmatched by digital technology. When film is projected onto a screen, its sense of depth, color saturation, interplay of light and shadow, and clarity are all superb, while the overall effect of digital simply falls short. Even more importantly, the cost of using film remains relatively low, which is a profound reason why directors continue to favor it.

After an entire day, all the actors—especially the stunt performers—collapsed in exhaustion, just as Liu Qingshan had predicted the day before; work did not wrap up until ten o'clock at night. Liu Qingshan did not rest, but instead attended the director team's daily shooting review, gathering in a small meeting room. He would not comment on plot matters, but only participated when discussions concerned the fight sequences. As expected, the day's filming earned unanimous praise from the director team. Although these members were not themselves stunt professionals, their extensive experience with similar productions had given them keen evaluative insight.

Especially notable was Zhang the Bearded, not only a martial arts enthusiast but currently one of the top figures in domestic wuxia dramas; his standards have become something of a benchmark in the entertainment industry. Even so, tonight his tone was remarkably genial: "I must admit, the action team led by Shan Zi has given me a tremendous surprise. Both the novelty of the fight choreography and the fluidity of the execution are the best I've ever seen in my life."

No one found his words inappropriate; everyone on site had witnessed the results, and especially after comparing with the stunt crews from Xiangjiang, today had truly opened their eyes. Everyone involved in the fight scene close-ups managed to seamlessly blend stillness and motion, switching between long and short techniques, skillfully combining hard and soft moves—each attack robust and unpretentious, tightly linked and coherent. Even outsiders could see the exceptional quality.

Particularly in scenes featuring Guo Jing, Liu Qingshan’s performance stood out. The dazzling leaps and agile movements, accomplished without the aid of wires, were enough to astonish everyone present. Such breathtaking moments, honestly captured by the cameras and replayed frame by frame, produced an even greater impact.

"I even considered turning every shot into slow motion, but unfortunately that would be a foolish move, seriously violating the storyline—no one would actually do that!" Zhang the Bearded’s remark drew a burst of laughter.

At the most crucial and intense points in a fight, adding slow motion and close-up shots is a common technique in film and television. Enlarging each move in slow motion, even sweat droplets flying through the air, brings a powerful visual impact and shock to the audience. It also highlights the heroism of protagonists and the consequences faced by villains, emphasizing their character.

But this simple slow-motion technique is now used less and less in modern action films, replaced by new methods. Violence is beautified; fight scenes become a dance, and slow motion turns into a dazzling accompaniment. The martial arts choreography Liu Qingshan participated in transformed bloody violence into poetry, using the elegance and harmony of martial arts moves to soften the brutality, emphasizing aesthetic appeal.

Liu Qingshan took the director team's praise lightly. For him, this was merely a phase of building reputation to earn his living.

"As long as the directors are satisfied, that's all that matters. We're all colleagues, so I'll be frank: Uncle Ping's team is handling action design for a major production for the first time, having previously relied on Xiangjiang stunt crews. Their dedication will be consistent from start to finish; otherwise, they won't get another opportunity like this." The implication was clear: once his scenes were complete, the current action team was fully capable of handling the rest.

"Even so, you can't just let go of the reins. You need to help Uncle Ping train a few good hands. Rest assured, if our cooperation goes well this time, a steady stream of opportunities will come knocking." This was spoken by Ge Daquan, the principal investor, whose promise carried real weight.

Liu Qingshan nodded, "These people will become my greatest support in the future. Director Ge, you can rest easy—I won't hold anything back!"

"Good! After the first day of filming, I’m looking forward to this adaptation of 'The Return of the Condor Heroes' surpassing the classics."

Liu Qingshan only smiled, not fully convinced. At least, he had little confidence in Huang Yiming, who was cast as Yang Guo. But he wasn’t foolish enough to say so aloud; the reasons behind casting choices were far too complicated.

"Liu Xiaofei showed her talent today. Her pure look seems to surpass even the previous version..."

Seeing that he was no longer needed, Liu Qingshan found an excuse and swiftly took his leave.

Upon returning home, Shi Hui handed him the phone. "Sister Xishan called several times, asking you to call back as soon as you got in!"

Liu Qingshan dialed the number, and Jin Xishan’s sweet voice came through: "Director Kan has agreed to meet, but you dragged the first day out till almost midnight. When can we set the time?"

"We’ll just have to play it by ear. Maybe after two or three days, Director Zhang will show some kindness."

"Should I reply to them like that?"

"Of course not. You can use Ge Daquan as an excuse—he’s someone every crew wants to curry favor with. In fact, he actually owes me a meal!"

"Are you saying we should invite Director Ge to come along?"

"Yes. That way, Director Kan will feel even more honored, and with Director Ge’s involvement, it’ll be easier to secure an evening slot."

"I’ll reply accordingly then. If Director Ge is willing to attend, Director Kan will be genuinely pleased!"

"Have Sister Huizhen and the others flown out already?"

"They’ve arrived, and the first round of negotiations is over. We might get a concrete result tomorrow!"

"Negotiations? Just for your contract renewal?"

"I’m not that valuable. It’s for Guoshi’s invitation. The actors involved are tied not only to MCC, but also have temporary program commitments. Their schedules need to be properly arranged."

"That takes several rounds?"

"What do you think? Take Zhang Rui Xi for example—she’s currently in the 'Love Letter' crew. Landing that assignment took considerable effort; it’s unrealistic to expect them to just let her go."

"'Love Letter'? A variety show?"

"Yes, it’s the hottest indoor variety show in our cold country right now. It’s known as the trendsetter, and its popularity is astonishing!"

Liu Qingshan, highly sensitive to such matters, immediately took note. His Super Star Creation Mall contained many items related to variety shows.

"Sister Xishan, what’s your take on variety shows in China? I’m planning a segment—would you like to join?"

"You’re skilled in segment planning? Of course I want in. It should be our company’s first major project, right? But I don’t know much about your TV programs here, except there’s a show called 'Super Girl' that’s been getting a lot of buzz lately."

With new ideas in mind, Liu Qingshan hurriedly ended the call, eager to learn more.