Chapter 366

Now that Yutu Production has had multiple successful films and TV shows, it has the clout to take risks—after all, it's still the same saying: if we don't make money, we won't let our rivals have an easy time either.

Yutu Production has also accumulated a certain amount of capital, but this capital will be invested entirely into the production of Gravity.

This film is planned to have a budget of 500 million yuan, roughly 71 million dollars, equivalent to three times the production cost of Now You See Me, rivaling even Hollywood blockbusters.

Our labor costs certainly won't be as outrageous as Hollywood's, and actor salaries won't be nearly as exorbitant.

With Liu Tianxian as the sole lead, a few million yuan will suffice; other supporting roles, the better ones get tens of thousands, the lesser ones just a few ten thousand yuan.

That means 99% of the budget will be poured directly into production.

Take The Great Wall—it claimed a 1 billion yuan budget, yet Mark Wahlberg alone took home 20 million dollars, equivalent to 140 million yuan.

So although the production cost seems huge, one actor takes over one-tenth or more, not to mention other actors.

Moreover, Gravity's budget is the bare minimum, with no upper limit—it means pouring all previously accumulated funds into making this film.

But this won't affect Yutu Production's normal operations, because the money is allocated across multiple phases.

From pre-production, to mid-production, to post-production, it will take roughly three phases.

Other films generally follow the same cycle.

Yutu Production continues to earn box office revenue, copyright income, and more—for example, film copyrights from three or four years ago have expired and can now be re-licensed to streaming platforms, TV networks, and copyright distributors.

Of course, these copyright fees aren't as high as they were a few years ago; after the novelty fades, collecting a few hundred thousand or a million yuan is already good.

Investing 500 million yuan in Gravity is an investment no one else dares to make or gamble on right now—only Fang Hong dares.

If anyone else tried, they couldn't even raise a fraction of the funding; 500 million yuan requires at least 1.5 billion yuan to break even, but China's current single-film box office market isn't that large.

Of course, money laundering is another matter!

But Fang Hong dares to gamble—he doesn't need to answer to anyone, he just throws the money in, and if he loses, it's his own money.

He's doing this to elevate Yutu Production's overall production and special effects standards—these aren't things money can buy; they require practicing film by film, accumulating experience.

Now, this film is about to hold its pre-production planning meeting—any difficulties or needs can be raised here.

Chen Zhixi, the General Producer, will preside—without senior leadership present, this project won't move forward; lower-ranking officials can't command respect, especially since it's the first time producing such a large-scale visual effects film.

There's also another Producer, Yao Qi, who is the General Manager of the special effects company and also serves as the Visual Effects Director.

With him in charge, the entire visual effects team will be taken seriously.

The Visual Effects Supervisor is Xu Jiandong, who later designed the effects for The Wandering Earth 2 and The Wandering Earth 2.

He also designed the effects for Journey—the lion or dog in that film looked incredibly realistic.

The Visual Effects Director and Visual Effects Supervisor have different roles: the Director designs creative visual effects shots and oversees post-production.

The Supervisor acts as a coordinator, responsible for directing and communicating visual effect scenes to ensure they're filmed according to specifications.

There's also a Second Assistant Director, Guo Fan, who acts as Fang Hong's assistant and simply films according to Fang Hong's instructions.

He's being given experience to prepare for directing The Wandering Earth.

Other core team members include Cinematographer Liu Yin, Art Director Li Anran, Editor Tu Yiran, and Visual Effects Set Design Team Leader Chen Xiuwei.

Some joined later; others have been with us since the beginning.

This film will have over 1,600 crew members, with the Visual Effects Department alone accounting for roughly 65%, or about 1,040 people.

Visual Effects is the most critical department in this film—the vastness of space, the deep cosmos, and the unparalleled floating details are all created by visual effects.

Additionally, there are about 100 special effects personnel; special effects and visual effects are distinct, specialized fields.

Visual Effects is about perception—the feeling and atmosphere you experience, created visually, which is precisely why visual effects are so vital in this film.

Special Effects, by contrast, achieve effects impossible through traditional filming using graphics, digital compositing, model building, and animation.

For example, debris and explosions in space, or car chases through city streets in other films—all are achieved through special effects.

You can't realistically film car chases on actual city streets.

There are also about 200 people in the Art Department, about 80 in the Sound Department, and far fewer in Costume, Editing, Assistant Directors, Production Crew, Production Management, Screenwriting, and other departments.

The costumes are just Astronaut Suits—inside, they're just tight-fitting suits, and even when returning to Earth, they wear the same clothes; no costume design is needed.

Only Props and Set Crew will be slightly larger, but not by much—about a hundred people will suffice, since this film requires almost no location changes and very few people to move equipment.

There are also many previously unexplored specialized roles and niche software, such as CNC Draftsmen, Motion Capture, and Engines.

That is, Unreal Engine—which can be used for games—this is precisely why Fang Hong wants to develop his own engine: it can be used for both games and film special effects.

Using someone else's means paying them eventually.

1,600 people is a solid, upper-mid level for a blockbuster, though still far behind top-tier Hollywood productions.

Their largest productions reach two or three thousand people—but they have massive numbers of extras; Gravity has no extras at all, fewer than two actors, and nearly everyone is behind-the-scenes staff, most of them professionals.

So we truly don't need that many people.

In a large conference room, a long table sits dozens of people—all key creative personnel for Gravity.

The actors aren't here—they haven't even been cast yet; the pre-production phase is long, so there's no need to notify them yet. No one needs to be present at this stage; they haven't been hired, and aren't involved in decision-making yet.

In the conference room, Chen Zhixi stands at the head, presenting Gravity's budget and team size.

Some have computers on their desks, others are taking notes with notebooks.

This is the finalized plan; everyone's expression is serious and focused, because this is their first time participating in such a colossal film.

Fang Hong also sits at the lower end, listening.

"This film is Yutu Production's largest to date and represents the highest production standard in the country," Chen Zhixi concluded. "I hope you all go back and think deeply, ensuring every step and detail is meticulously planned."

Fang Hong looked at the group: "This film has been planned for half a year. You all understand roughly what effects and conditions we need. To achieve the sensation of free-floating and zero-gravity in space—this kind of filming has never been attempted before. Are there any solutions?"

"I've studied documentaries and American films showing astronauts in space, and consulted experts—they said astronauts in space are powerless."

"I noticed that outside specific environments, their bodies remain mostly still; what moves is the space around them—and what is space? It's the camera."

"So the actors stay still, and the camera creates the illusion of tumbling through space—could this be achieved?" Guo Fan proposed.

He turned the question to Liu Yin, the Cinematographer, who was more familiar with this area.

"I've investigated this before," Liu Yin said. "I found the bot&dolly company's dynamic camera system, the Iris System, which can achieve seven-axis free-axis shooting and tracking."

Everyone exchanged glances, baffled, not understanding what he was saying. Fang Hong also didn't get it and said, "Please explain more clearly."

This made people smile faintly—why say something so high-tech?

Liu Yin was also frustrated and switched to plain language: "Simply put, you fix the actor on a frame, use iris to control the camera's movement, and create the illusion that the actor is tumbling in space."

He picked up a pencil, raised it, and demonstrated: "For example, this is the actor. When he needs to crash into an object, he doesn't move at all—only the camera and lights need to move. If the lights don't follow, the actor's face will look wrong."

So that's how it works—the group finally understood. In simple terms, the actor just lies there and acts, while the camera does all the movement. Very high-tech.

"If that's the case, then the actor only needs to film facial expressions. Since they're wearing an Astronaut Suit, their body shape won't be visible anyway—you could even use a stunt double." Guo Fan immediately realized the actor only needed to contribute their face.

Other parts could be handled by stunt performers, improving efficiency—film the face here, film the body there.

"This is good—it means we can continuously adjust and simulate realistic space movement," Fang Hong said.

This would save Liu Tianxian trouble—she probably couldn't act out that space feeling anyway, having never experienced it.

Using computer simulation and professional stunt performers would be much simpler.

"Theoretically, yes," Liu Yin nodded.

"Has it been imported yet?" Fang Hong asked.

"Not yet. They've only sent me the design plans. I'll visit the United States again for further inspection—if everything's fine, we'll import it," Liu Yin said.

"What does this company do? I've never heard of a photography company like this," Chen Zhixi asked curiously.

This involved procuring production-specific equipment.

"The company is in San Francisco and makes motion-control robots. Their current business is providing automated robotic camera systems to Hollywood producers," Liu Yin said.

They're already into automated robotics for filmmaking.

"If there are no issues, bring this in quickly—don't delay. Once filming starts, there won't be time to slowly figure it out," Fang Hong demanded.

Once the shooting process begins, it's thousands of crew members eating daily—there's no time to wait for them to learn how to use it.

Minor problems can be tolerated to build experience, but not incompetence.

"Understood. I'll move quickly," Liu Yin nodded.

Guo Fan stared thoughtfully, stroking his chin: "If this camera technology can be realized, could we build a larger box, with its inner walls made of LED panels? When the actor needs a certain scene, the panels display it—so the actor doesn't have to imagine against a green screen, but feels truly immersed."

He added: "For example, if the actor is in space and reaches out to grab a door handle, there's obviously no handle on set—but the actor can see it through the LED panels, enhancing the realism of the Performance Department."

"That would make the visuals look very rough," Li Anran objected.

LED panels are made of small, square blocks—the footage would look extremely pixelated.

"Post-production CGI rendering."

"."

(End of Chapter)