Chapter 99: The Nomination That Added Fuel to the Film’s Fire

Chapter Ninety-Nine: The Nomination That Added Fuel to the Film’s Fire

So this guy didn’t want to make a low-budget film after all!

Upon hearing this, Tang Xiao smiled. However, he wasn’t disappointed in the slightest. Zhang Le had no intention of continuing with small-scale productions; he didn’t even need to write such scripts if he didn’t want to. Writing it was clearly a preparation for something bigger—something for himself.

“A blockbuster? What kind of blockbuster? Comedy, action, sci-fi, fantasy? Your ambitions keep growing—aren’t you afraid that by taking such giant steps, you might trip and fall flat on your face?” Tang Xiao chuckled as he spoke.

“I’m still torn,” Zhang Le replied.

“Fine... you keep struggling. I’m off,” Tang Xiao said with a glance at Zhang Le, then picked up the script and left.

Indeed, Zhang Le was in the midst of a dilemma. His mind was flooded with countless classics. With his growing directorial skills and more options at hand, choosing the next film had become genuinely difficult.

He wanted to shoot “Mr. and Mrs. Smith,” starring himself and Yang Xin’er. But the film’s setting required an international backdrop. This movie could be his stepping stone onto the global stage.

Yet, at this moment, he wasn’t ready to take that leap.

He had yet to solidify his footing in the domestic market, and already thinking of going international was simply too ambitious—a step too far that could easily backfire.

Zhang Le knew clearly that if he were to make a film now, it should be a classic Chinese-language film—not some Hollywood blockbuster from a past life.

There were many classics, and even more that he adored.

“Why do you seem a bit off these days? Got something on your mind?”

On the way home, Yang Xin’er noticed Zhang Le staring out the window, deep in thought, occasionally furrowing his brow, so she asked gently.

“I’m just thinking about what my next film should be,” Zhang Le smiled.

“Then make whatever you want,” Yang Xin’er smiled back, seeing this wasn’t a big deal.

“The problem is, I don’t know what I want to make!” Zhang Le said helplessly.

“Are you thinking of giving up on comedies?” Yang Xin’er looked at him seriously. “Why not blend comedy with other elements—like sci-fi, horror, action, or kung fu?”

She understood that Zhang Le didn’t want to be pigeonholed. Having made two comedies in a row, he didn’t want to be typecast. The third film might be his departure from comedy altogether. But Yang Xin’er clearly hoped he wouldn’t abandon his comedic talent. She cared deeply about his first two films.

Sci-fi was undoubtedly a weak spot for Chinese cinema. There were many comedies with sci-fi elements, but Zhang Le only thought of foreign films when it came to that genre—and he wasn’t eager to make one now.

Comedy with a horror twist immediately brought to mind Uncle Nine’s zombie films, but zombies had little market these days, and such films rarely made it to theaters.

There were plenty of action comedies and kung fu comedies...

“So, have you figured out what you want to shoot?” Yang Xin’er asked as she saw his eyes brighten.

“Sort of,” Zhang Le smiled.

“That’s good,” she said warmly.

“Xin’er, what if we acquire a special effects company?” Zhang Le suddenly proposed.

Yang Xin’er looked at him and smiled. “You just say it—that’s enough.”

“Most VFX companies here are losing money. Aren’t you afraid I’ll blow our savings?” Zhang Le laughed.

“My savings are your savings. If you don’t want us starving tomorrow, then work hard to make money! Besides, I trust your judgment,” Yang Xin’er smiled.

Most of the money for Xinle Film Studio came from Zhang Le. Yang Xin’er had funded the studio well but never treated it as solely her own.

“Yes. The use of special effects in films is an unstoppable trend. Although VFX companies are currently losing money, they might be golden geese in the future,” Zhang Le nodded.

Compared to overseas studios, domestic VFX was still rudimentary. But with the development of Chinese cinema and its integration with the world, the VFX industry was bound to blossom.

Few Chinese films had truly embraced special effects yet, and Zhang Le intended to be the first to take the plunge.

When Zhang Le visited Yang Xin’er’s home for the second time, he was still somewhat reserved, though less nervous than before.

It was the Lunar New Year, but the atmosphere felt less festive than his hometown—missing a sense of ease and relaxation, replaced by a faint oppression.

This feeling wasn’t just because it was Yang Xin’er’s home and he was merely her boyfriend.

On New Year's Eve, Zhang Le stayed for dinner, then watched the Spring Festival Gala with everyone. Unexpectedly, “The Thousand-Hand Guanyin” was featured—a program that had previously aired on CCTV and caused a sensation. Its appearance on the Gala guaranteed household recognition.

The influence of the Spring Festival Gala was truly unparalleled.

This year, neither Zhang Le nor Yang Xin’er were invited. For stars like them, appearing in two consecutive Galas was rare. However, they did receive invitations for the Lantern Festival Gala but declined due to plans to visit Zhang Le’s hometown.

“The Retreat” had been in theaters for over a week, surpassing 200 million yuan at the box office, with its popularity still soaring. Even if it didn’t break the record set by “Waiting for Return,” surpassing two hundred million seemed certain.

Another high-grossing film was about to be born, and the Golden Dragon Awards nomination list was soon announced. Last year, Zhang Le’s “Crazy Stone” garnered five nominations: Best Picture, Best Director, Best Original Screenplay, Best Editing, and Best Supporting Actor.

The nominations for Best Picture and Best Director stunned countless people.

His debut film had been nominated for the most prestigious Golden Dragon Awards, astonishing many. Regardless of whether he won, Zhang Le had already set a record.

At just twenty-four, to receive such acclaim for a first film made him the undisputed leader among his generation of young directors.

Unexpectedly, there were two nominations for Best Supporting Actor from “Crazy Stone”: Huang Yao as Heipi and Liu Ye as Daoge.

When the Golden Dragon Awards nominations were revealed, public opinion erupted. Everyone expected “Crazy Stone” to be nominated, but the weight of those nominations—Best Picture, Best Director—surprised even the most optimistic.

“Crazy Stone” had made box office history; would it repeat the feat at the Golden Dragon Awards? Many eagerly awaited the outcome.

With the nomination list out, Zhang Le’s second film, “Flirting Scholar,” also attracted more attention. Even “The Retreat,” still in theaters, gained added buzz from the nominations.

Busy promoting the film, Zhang Le was frequently asked about the Golden Dragon Awards.

Though nominated, Zhang Le knew competition for those two top awards was fierce, and his chances slim. In his previous life, “Crazy Stone” had also been nominated for these two but fell short against stronger rivals. This time, he feared a repeat.

Still, Zhang Le harbored no grand illusions about winning those top honors.