novellhall Chapter 216 The Spring of Asian Actors [5000]
Chapter 216 The Spring of Asian Actors [5000]
Chapter 216 The Spring of Asian Actors [5000]
Lionsgate's "The Hunger Games: Catching Fire" suffered a box office flop in its opening weekend, which quickly had a ripple effect throughout Hollywood.
Industry insiders know that "The Hunger Games: Catching Fire" is of high quality and has a huge budget.
The current box office setback has served as a wake-up call for them.
Monday noon.
An in-depth analysis article by The Hollywood Reporter became a hot topic.
When Safe is No Longer Safe: Lionsgate's Miscalculation and the Formula for Asian Actors in Hollywood
The article did not solely criticize the film's quality.
In fact, the film received very positive reviews from critics.
The article focuses on the phenomenon that the market reaction is seriously inconsistent with expectations.
"The core of the problem may not be that Jennifer Lawrence is not dazzling enough, nor that Susan Collins' story has lost its charm."
"Hollywood's long-held assumptions about casting and marketing strategies are being challenged."
"When Lionsgate decided to downplay Chen Xun's presence in the global promotion of 'The Hunger Games: Catching Fire' based on a business risk assessment, they clearly did not anticipate that the Chinese actor's popularity and symbolic significance in a specific market, especially in China, had gone beyond simple box office boosting and become a symbol of cultural identity and emotional projection."
1
"The recent lukewarm reception in the Chinese market is less a rejection of the films themselves and more a concentrated expression of audience sentiment."
""
The article directly points out the reasons for Lionsgate's box office flop.
"This incident and Warner Bros.' decision to replace Chen Xun in the Interstellar project due to external pressure created a subtle resonance in terms of timing."
"The combination of these two events has amplified the cognitive gap between the industry and some viewers regarding who decides the fate of actors."
"In one of the world's largest film markets, audiences are starting to vote with their wallets against casting decisions they perceive as unfair or short-sighted."
This article is like an industry diagnosis, striking a nerve with many people.
The next two days.
Small meetings, private lunches, and phone conversations are taking place frequently in Beverly Hills, Burbank, and Santa Monica.
The core of the topic revolves around two words:
-
"Chen Xun" and "Chinese Market".
That analysis in The Hollywood Reporter practically laid bare the industry's dirty secrets.
"Our data team ran the model again."
At a luncheon, the vice president of strategy at a mid-sized production company told his partners, his fork unconsciously jabbing at the salad on his plate: "By adding Asian faces among the main actors as a new positively correlated variable, the accuracy of box office predictions for the Asia-Pacific region, especially China, has increased by almost 8 percentage points, particularly for action and science fiction films."
The independent filmmaker sitting across from him raised an eyebrow: "8%?"
"This is no longer within the margin of error."
"Our next sci-fi thriller—"
"I've already asked the casting director to contact several Chinese-American actors who have US agency contracts."
The vice president lowered his voice: "We don't need a main character, or even an important supporting character. Just a scientist with some screen time or a technical expert from the main character's team will do."
"The pay is very cheap. Many Chinese actors with backgrounds in theater or independent films are worried about not having opportunities to appear in commercial films. This is a good deal!"
Similar conversations were repeated on multiple occasions.
Hollywood's perception of Chinese actors is changing.
In the past, producers rarely considered Asian characters unless the script explicitly required them.
Many people are now wondering: "Could we squeeze an Asian face into this place? The cost isn't high anyway, and who knows, it might help us tap into more of the Chinese market?"
Is this idea utilitarian?
Extremely pragmatic!
But it is changing the status of Chinese actors in Hollywood.
On Wednesday morning, in a slightly old apartment building in Santa Monica, a cell phone ringing pulled Wang Kaiwen out of his hangover headache.
He groggily reached for his phone and glanced at the caller ID.
Unknown number.
He instinctively wanted to hang up; there were just too many calls these days trying to sell loans and fake auditions.
But for some inexplicable reason, he accepted it.
"Excuse me, are you Mr. Wang Kaiwen?"
The voice on the other end of the phone was that of an unfamiliar man, speaking quickly and with professional politeness.
"It's me, and who are you?"
"This is Starway Casting, and I'm Mark, the assistant casting director. We're looking for actors for a mid-budget sci-fi film called 'Echoes of Deep Space' produced by Universal Pictures. There's an astrophysicist in the role, with about six to eight scenes and some professional dialogue."
"We saw the recording of your performance in the Off-Broadway production of 'Galileo' and felt that your temperament was a good fit. Are you available for an audition recently?"
Wang Kaiwen held his phone, stunned for several seconds, thinking he was still drunk.
He spent eight years moving between New York and Los Angeles.
He has played countless minor roles.
Convenience store clerk, food delivery driver, silent lab assistant —
The most impressive achievement on his resume is that he is a Chinese actor who starred in "Galileo" in a small Off-Broadway theater.
He's actually received an audition invitation from the Global Project?
Or is it a proper character with lines and a backstory?
This is not a dream, right?
Hearing the invitation repeated on the other end of the phone, he quickly sat up straight.
"Yes—I'm available!"
His voice was a little dry from nervousness: "Of course! Thank you so much for your invitation!"
I hung up the phone.
Wang Kaiwen sat on the edge of the messy bed.
He stared at the gray Los Angeles sky outside the window, remaining motionless for a long time.
Eight years!
In order to stay in Hollywood, he washed dishes and worked as a driver. At his poorest, he couldn't even afford the rent for his apartment and was almost kicked out by his landlord.
I've doubted countless times whether I've chosen the wrong path, and whether I should just go back to China, where at least I wouldn't have to worry about next month's medical insurance bill.
Is this phone call real?
Almost at the same time, on the other side of Los Angeles, Korean actress Min-ah Kim was waiting in line at a community clinic, her face pale with stomach pain.
To save money, she didn't buy proper medical insurance and could only come to this kind of cheap but long-waiting clinic.
Her phone vibrated. It was a message from her agent, the owner of a small agency that was also struggling. His words were unusually excited: "Min-ah! I just received two inquiries! One is from the casting director of a new Netflix series, asking if you're interested in a role as an Asian policewoman. It's a supporting role, but she has a complete storyline!"
"The other one is an independent film project, one of the female leads! They specifically said they're looking for an actress with East Asian features! Call back! Immediately!!!"
As Kim Min-ah looked at the message, the cramps in her stomach seemed to ease for a moment.
She leaned against the wall, and suddenly her nose felt a little sore.
Last year, her father fell ill in South Korea, and she couldn't even afford a decent plane ticket. In the end, her relatives helped her by pooling their money.
She cried in the middle of the night more than once, feeling like a fool for wasting the best years of her life in this seemingly glamorous but actually cold place.
Netflix?
A supporting character with a backstory?
This was practically unthinkable in the first few years of her career.
In Alhambra, a city with a large Chinese population.
In a shared apartment, Zhao Gang, a stuntman and child actor in his forties, was packing his luggage.
He has just made up his mind and is preparing to buy a plane ticket to return to China next week.
After more than a decade in the business, he was covered in injuries, and apart from a few barely recognizable stunt double scenes, he had nothing left.
I have a ton of credit card debt, and I even have to worry about how much money I can spare to buy my child a new schoolbag.
Hollywood?
It’s time to wake up from the dream.
The phone rang.
He was a fellow stuntman brother of his who was also struggling at the bottom of society.
The voice was deafeningly loud: "Gang! Stop packing! I just heard from the stunt coordinator that Fox has a new action movie in development, and they need a villainous team member with an Asian face who can fight. He has a lot of screen time, and they specifically requested someone who can actually fight, not just showy!"
"The people over there even specifically asked if there was anyone like Chen Xun who had practiced real kung fu?"
"Damn, this is an opportunity! I'll recommend you!"
Zhao Gang stood frozen in place, holding a few wrinkled pieces of clothing.
Chen Xun?
That young man who's recently turned Hollywood upside down?
He shook his head with a wry smile, his heart filled with mixed feelings.
Unexpectedly, the person who might end up helping him out was actually this junior whom he had previously been a little jealous of for his good fortune.
In the past, Asian actors were often listed very late in the casting director's list, or were simply not considered, unless the role specifically required it.
Now, many casting offices have more resumes and audition videos of Asian actors on their desks.
The reason is very practical: "Low cost, high potential return."
A well-known white actor might charge hundreds of thousands or even millions for a supporting role with a name, but for the same amount of screen time, an experienced Chinese actor could get it for only a tenth of the price, and you can also curry favor with the Chinese market.
Even if it's just a gesture.
On Thursday night, several familiar Chinese actors gathered at an inexpensive Korean barbecue restaurant.
Someone shared the audition invitation they had just received, and the others discovered that they were all in similar situations, having received audition invitations in the last few days.
The atmosphere at the table was somewhat awkward.
are you happy?
Of course I'm happy!
After all, such an opportunity is rare!
But I also feel a tightness in my chest.
An older actor, who had played supporting roles for twenty years and had hardly ever uttered a complete line, said with red eyes and a hoarse voice, "Yesterday—yesterday I auditioned for a role, just three lines, a Chinese-American engineer, and the casting director actually discussed the character's background with me, asking why I thought this character was here. I—I almost didn't react at the time."
He wiped his face: "For twenty years, all they cared about was whether my English accent was right, whether I could portray an Asian like they imagined. This is the first time someone has asked me about the character—"
There was a moment of silence on the table.
Another actress whispered, "I went to an audition today and met another Asian girl. She said her agent told her that if she submits a script now and the role doesn't explicitly state race, she can proactively suggest whether an Asian actress could be considered for the role. Before, if you did that, your agent would say you're crazy."
"It's all because of Chen Xun!"
The actress is clearly very concerned about the various public opinions circulating online.
She sniffed, her nose slightly red, whether from the smoke of the barbecue or something else: "Because he's tough enough, because he can get the audience to spend real money or not, we've benefited from his influence, even though those people might not really want to use us, they just want to use our reputation."
"So what if I get some benefit!"
The veteran actor poured himself another glass of wine: "Being able to survive and continue acting is better than anything else. In this place, there's no such thing as sincerity or insincerity, only usefulness or incompetence."
That's harsh, but that's Hollywood.
Tuesday afternoon.
When Nolan stepped into the small conference room at Warner Bros. headquarters that overlooked half of Burbank Studios, he sensed that something was off.
The only person in the room was Kyle Richardson, the senior vice president in charge of production.
He was standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, his back to the door, his fingers unconsciously tapping on the glass.
Hearing the door open, he turned around, quickly putting on a professional smile that was a little too enthusiastic.
"Come in and sit down."
Kyle gestured to the comfortable armchair next to the conference table, then walked over to the small coffee machine: "What would you like to drink? Water? Or some coffee? They just changed their beans, and I heard they're good."
"Water is fine, thank you."
Nolan sat down, remaining expressionless.
In Hollywood, such occasions where a vice president personally acts as a waiter usually signify two things.
It's either extremely good news or extremely troublesome problems.
Given recent public opinion, Nolan leans towards the latter.
Kyle poured a glass of ice water, placed it in front of Nolan, and then sat down opposite him.
He didn't immediately get to the point, but instead chatted for a few minutes about California's annoying traffic and some trivial matters about a film festival that was being prepared, in a relaxed tone.
Nolan listened, nodding occasionally, his fingers gently tracing the cool glass.
The small talk finally ran out.
Kyle leaned forward slightly, crossed his hands on the smooth tabletop, and his smile faded a little.
"Is the progress of 'Interstellar' going smoothly in all aspects? Have you encountered any difficulties that require company-level coordination?"
He lowered his voice, sounding very sincere.
This is a communication skill used by those in positions of power in the financial world.
"Proceed as planned."
Nolan's answer remained concise: "Actor training, set construction, and technical testing are all on track."
"That's good!"
Kyle tapped his finger lightly twice on the table: "As you know, the entire company has high hopes for this film. It's not only our trump card, but also a shot we absolutely must make."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over Nolan's calm face: "You must have been following the situation at Lionsgate. Just a few days ago they were shouting about 12 billion, but the start wasn't ideal. Especially in the Chinese market, the reaction was a bit unexpected."
He shook his head, a wary look on his face: "They thought they had everything figured out—IP, stars, timing—but they overlooked the audience's emotions. The absence of one actor could trigger such a huge market backlash—something unimaginable before."
Nolan listened quietly without interrupting.
"This incident has served as a wake-up call for us. The sensitivities of audiences in key overseas markets have become more complex and unpredictable than before, and simple business calculations can sometimes fail."
He then changed the subject: "Therefore, we must not repeat the mistakes of 'Interstellar'. We must eliminate any potential risks that may cause unnecessary controversy in advance and nip them in the bud."
Nolan understood that this was a form of pressure.
The higher-ups kicked Chen Xun out.
Now we're preparing to make him take the blame.
Although Nolan has always been confident in the script for Interstellar, he can't help but feel a little nervous now.
If Interstellar's box office performance falls short of expectations, his career will suffer a major setback, perhaps even worse than Lionsgate's.
Thinking about this, Nolan fell into deep thought.
He thought of Chen Xun, whom he considered Cooper's first choice.
London, on the set of Fast & Furious 6.
Lunch break.
While shoveling chicken rice into his lunchbox, Kang Sung-ho said to Chen Xun, "My agent called me excitedly this morning, saying I suddenly got two script offers, both for Hollywood films, and one even has the lead role!"
He said the wind seems to have shifted recently.
Jordana nodded, holding a yogurt spoon. "I also heard my acting teacher mention that some of my Asian friends who used to mainly work in theater have recently received audition notices for commercial films. Although they are all small roles, it would have been almost impossible before."
Vin Diesel chewed on his special protein bar, his voice muffled: "That's how Hollywood is. Once a place proves it can make money, everyone rushes there to mine. Chen, you've pretty much pinpointed the location of the mine."
Chen Xun ate his salad, showing little surprise.
This reaction was within his expectations, but he didn't expect it to come so quickly.
"They don't really want to use Asian actors!"
He took a sip of water and said calmly, "They want to use cheap Asian actors to test the expensive Chinese market. The essence hasn't changed; it's still business."
"That's right!"
Director Justin Lin, who is also of Chinese descent, came over at some point, pulled up a chair and sat down: "And he's very eager for quick success, just stuffing in a decorative role, thinking he can please the audience? Today's audiences aren't so easily fooled."
but----"
He looked at Chen Xun: "This is at least a beginning. The door has been opened a crack. Although the person who opened the door may have impure motives, it's better than keeping it closed. Whether anyone can truly walk in and stand firm depends on whether there are more people like you who can speak for themselves with their works and box office results."
Chen Xun nodded.
That makes sense.
He never expects to change a deeply entrenched system with just one or two incidents.
But every real upheaval is meaningful.
Filming continued in the afternoon.
It's a transition from an action scene to a dialogue scene. Chen Xun's character, Chen Zhen, has a cut on his calf during the operation. The medic is treating the wound, while Chen Zhen is reviewing the mistakes made during the operation with Paul's character, Brian.
There are few lines; the main focus is on eye contact and subtle changes in facial expressions to convey the suppressed pain.
There's also the self-blame for mistakes and the focus to quickly adjust and get back into the next phase.
Chen Xun handled it very meticulously.
The pain from the wound caused his muscles to twitch involuntarily, and fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. A fleeting physiological reaction to the pain flashed in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a stronger sense of professional composure.
The entire performance was smooth and realistic.
"Cut! Great!"
Lin Yibin nodded in satisfaction: "Chen, you were in a state of intense pain but your mind was still working at high speed. You grasped the situation very accurately."
"Paul, your interaction was also very natural."
[Pain realism +5]
[Dialogue control while injured +4]
[The pacing and coordination of the two actors +6]
Several attribute balls fell from Chen Xun and Paul.
Chen Xun absorbed it quietly.
I feel that I have a deeper understanding of the lines and body language in the performance, and I also have a better understanding of my co-stars.
Chen Xun opened the panel:
The progress of "highly praised" has reached 70%.
Cultural influence plays a significant role in this.
Especially in the last two days, it has been increasing by more than 100 points every day.
The next upgrade will require 1,000 points.
Now I only need 200 more points to upgrade!