Chapter 551: The Warmth and Coldness of Human Nature

The two of them put on a show of acting on stage, when Fang Hong suddenly had a flash of inspiration: "I know what this character is!"

"What character?"

Cui Yongyuan stared at him in utter shock, as if to say, Wow, you can actually read characters—amazing, I can't read them at all.

"This character is called 'Song of the Phoenix'!"

Fang Hong suddenly announced in a loud voice, and the audience burst into laughter with thunderous applause, accompanied by the swell of stirring music.

The final grand prize was actually won by this film, while "Four Days and Nights," that main melody film, didn't win a single award.

Looks like the Principal really only looks at the work itself, nothing else—main melody or not, if he doesn't give it, he just doesn't give it.

Hearing that this film had won, Tao Zeru and the other key creators were deeply moved, clapping vigorously, a glimmer of tears flashing in their eyes—it was worth making this trip after all.

Winning an award is really not easy. Hopefully this exposure will let more people learn about "Song of the Phoenix," and that some distribution company will be willing to release it and put it in theaters!

Right now, no company is willing to distribute this film!

The on-site guests and audience saw that in the guest seating area, a middle-aged woman with long straight black hair and an elderly lady stood up and embraced each other.

The middle-aged woman was Wu Yanyan, the daughter of the director of "Song of the Phoenix"; the elderly lady was presumably the director's widow.

Mother and daughter held each other tightly. After bidding farewell to friends and accepting their congratulations, they made their way down the aisle, supporting each other as they walked toward the stage.

At this moment, the livestream chat erupted in heckling.

"One Best Actor, one Best Film—two major awards. Is this movie really that good? Never even heard of it."

"Saw it once at a university screening, was really moved. All I can say is, an unfinished tragic song."

"This film won Best Feature Film at the Golden Rooster Awards together with 'Four Days and Nights.' Let me put it this way—the plot and watchability completely trounce the previous work. As for why Best Feature Film was given to both at the same time, those in the know will understand, no need to elaborate."

"Song of the Phoenix yyds!"

"."

Many viewers hadn't seen this film, simply because it had never been released, so there was no way to learn about it.

But those who had seen it all felt the award was well deserved.

Some films, even if they don't make it to theaters, will be shown at university events and at the Chinese Youth Film Forum.

These are screened for those young intellectuals.

Of course, most people hadn't seen it, but this time the Macau Film Festival's open screenings let some people catch it.

As for the Golden Rooster Award it won earlier, not many people paid attention—too politically correct, giving such a big award to two films.

But this time winning an award, far more people are paying attention, and far more people know about it.

The Principal personally presenting the award carries real weight.

"Congratulations, congratulations." Fang Hong watched the mother and daughter come up on stage, stepped forward, and handed the Trophy to them.

Then he gestured for them to step up to the microphone and give their acceptance speech!

"Thank you, thank you, Principal." Wu Yanyan was grateful.

"No need to thank me, this has nothing to do with me—it's because Director Wu made a great film." Fang Hong stepped aside, yielding the stage to them.

The mother and daughter walked to the standing microphone and stopped.

"Thank you to the Macau Film Festival, thank you to the judges for recognizing my father's work. My father passed away one month after finishing the editing of this film. If his spirit can see it from heaven, seeing his work win an award under the spotlight, he would surely feel deeply comforted."

Wu Yanyan choked up and paused mid-sentence, while the elderly lady beside her emotionally dabbed at her tears with a handkerchief.

The venue erupted in "clap clap clap" warm, encouraging applause.

Many in the film industry knew this director. When he passed away, many great directors like Lao Mouzi, Feng Kuzi, Zhang Jizhong, Xie Fei, Lu Tailang and others all went to pay their respects.

They even held a memorial service, which Lao Mouzi and Chen Daren also attended.

Rumor has it—just rumor—that this director was Lao Mouzi's mentor, and had shown great appreciation and patronage to the Fifth Generation directors.

Yet such a figure with such solid connections, the films he made were actually stymied by distribution fees of just a few million, unable to get a release. For years he sought a company to distribute it, but no company was willing to take it on.

Even if it did get released, he still had to kneel and beg theaters for more screenings—truly bizarre.

Looks like personal connections are personal connections—everyone can drink and eat together, but once money's involved, once you actually need help, no one lifts a finger. The world is really pragmatic.

People leave and the tea grows cold—perfectly normal!

"My mother and I thank everyone who has helped this film, and especially thank the creative team, and actors like Tao Zeru. It was your unwavering dedication that brought this work to completion. We also thank you for your constant recommendations and help with this film—you've worked so hard."

Wu Yanyan steadied her emotions, holding her mother who was still crying beside her.

The applause continued unabated. Some sentimental people also started crying, like Nazha—it really was too moving.

The person is gone, yet the work remains—how could this be so touching?

Liu Tianxian's eyes were also reddening—this was already the second time she'd cried. Kind-hearted, she couldn't bear to see the common people's suffering.

Even some viewers in the livestream chat started going "wu wu wu."

Fang Hong was fine, didn't feel much—maybe he really is cold-blooded.

"."

Wu Yanyan was silent for a moment, seeming to want to say something but hesitant. Finally, mustering her courage, she said: "Right now, 'Song of the Phoenix' lacks marketing and distribution funds. If any film industry boss is interested in this work, you can help distribute this film."

If she didn't say it now, she didn't know when there would be another platform this big. It's already 2015—if no one picks it up, this delay will push the release all the way to 2016.

So they had no choice. Making this film had already cost their family everything; if they couldn't monetize it, it would just rot in their hands.

Some people pour their entire fortune into making films!

But the filmmakers and audience in the venue were all silent—they simply couldn't help. Some were just actors; even if someone had the ability to find a distributor—

What if it lost money? Who would bear that loss?

Art films already struggle to survive in China. Theaters don't want to give them screenings, thinking it's a waste of resources, and even if they do, they won't get a good release window.

If you take over distribution, the money goes out, the theaters won't give more screenings—who's on the hook if it loses money?

You have to know that after a film is finished and ready for release, you still need prints, censorship, materials, insurance—all these upfront costs. The censorship fee is for reviewing exhibition qualifications; materials means promotional materials—you have to put up a couple of posters at least.

And that doesn't even count publicity and transportation costs, because some theaters don't use digital prints but film prints, and those are all expenses.

For a big company like Yutu, this isn't much, but for some independent small films, they've already put their money into making the movie and don't have extra to cover distribution costs.

Getting into theaters also has its threshold — a single penny can stump a hero.

Seeing the audience fall silent, Wu Yanyan spoke again: "We've approached many company bosses, and none of them are willing to take on the distribution work for Song of the Phoenix. If any boss here takes a liking to this work, please lend a hand — even just an introduction would be fine. We can negotiate ourselves; giving up more profit doesn't matter."

Having said this, she bowed deeply once more!

Yet the venue remained silent. Tao Zeru looked around at the celebrities and socialites — their faces were blank, showing no reaction at all.

This left him feeling somewhat deflated.

Applauding is one thing, but to actually help — once money is involved, that's another story.

"Why isn't anyone willing to help?" the livestream viewers were also asking.

"You think helping just means reaching out a hand? It takes real silver thrown in. Letting you spend 5 million just gets it screened — the theaters don't have to give it showtimes. Would you be willing to do it?"

"If I had a hundred million, I'd be willing to help!"

"Easy to talk when you're not the one paying — of course you'd be willing."

"The Principal can help! The Principal!"

"Principal! Principal!"

"Principal! Principal!"

"..."

Suddenly someone kept spamming "Principal" in the chat, urging him to step in — after all, the Principal had money, and it wasn't theirs.

But Fang Hong didn't know what was happening in the livestream chat, nor could he see it.

"Thank you all, thank you to the audience here. I'm very happy to receive this award." Seeing no response, Wu Yanyan dimly took her mother's hand and prepared to head backstage.

In the end, this world is realistic — the warmth and cold of human nature!

The venue was still silent. Many who saw this scene couldn't bear it in their hearts, but they had no ability to help — they were just minor actors.

Those who had the ability weren't willing to step in — it cost money, time, and effort, far too troublesome.

Liu Tianxian also felt uneasy inside, gazing at Fang Hong from afar.

Fang Hong sensed it. The two exchanged glances, and he sighed inwardly — was he supposed to kneel and beg those theaters?

A film like this has no gimmick; publicity is useless too!

In his past life, he had to kneel before the theaters would give it some showtimes, and only then would audiences be willing to watch — and even so, it only made 80 million at the box office.

And that box office still had to be split among the investors, theaters, distributors, and tax funds.

The theaters and taxes alone would take their cut.

No way around it — this is the tragedy of art-house films.

"Please wait a moment," he said.

Since he was far away and had no microphone, the audience below couldn't hear — only Wu Yanyan and her mother could.

But everyone noticed something was off.

Wu Yanyan turned back to look at Fang Hong, a hint of hope in her heart.

"As the Best Film, the festival can offer you channels. If no other company is willing to distribute, you can go find Tu Piaopiao's boss Zheng Zhihao — I think he'd be willing to distribute." Fang Hong walked up to the microphone and said directly.

Of course, he was only speaking in the capacity of a festival introducer; he couldn't say he himself was willing to distribute — he had to remain neutral.

Besides, Yutu wasn't involved in distribution — only production.

"Thank you, thank you, Principal." Wu Yanyan was overjoyed. Facing Fang Hong, she bowed repeatedly in gratitude.

"No need to thank me. I'm only making the introduction — whether it works out still depends on how you negotiate with him." Fang Hong quickly raised her up with both hands.

What if this person exploited sympathy to make unreasonable demands? So Fang Hong didn't say anything definitive.

"I still have to thank you. I'll go talk to Boss Zheng when the time comes." Wu Yanyan was sincere — with the Principal's connection, she knew it was settled.

Watching this scene from below, some in the audience were moved by the Principal's gesture. After all, the Principal had more compassion.

Everyone knew Tu Piaopiao was his.

"Just an introduction?" Some livestream viewers were a bit dissatisfied, feeling he should have helped distribute directly — seen it through to the end.

"The Principal making the introduction is basically already settled. As long as the profit split works out, that's fine. Even if the Principal wanted to help, he'd still have to follow basic business logic." someone explained.

"Right. If it makes money later and the split is uneven and they start fighting — that kind of thing happens all the time!"

"."

They didn't leave the stage. Fang Hong said: "Although I'm only making the introduction, there is one thing I can confirm."

"What is it?" Wu Yanyan asked.

"Universal's boss Donna told me earlier that she's taken a liking to your film. Universal is willing to pay 2 million USD to buy the global rights to Song of the Phoenix outside of China. Whether you want to sell is up to you."

When Fang Hong said this, the whole venue "erupted," with a rising hum of murmuring.

2 million USD — that's 14 million. The film hadn't even done anything yet, and the Principal had already helped them earn 14 million.

If the later theatrical release could break even, it would be pure profit. Even if it couldn't get screened, 14 million would be enough to recoup costs — the film's budget was only 15 million.

The loss would only be 1 million, and spread among the investors, each one's loss wouldn't be much.

(End of chapter)