Chapter 4858: Wondrous Shadows, Marvelous Drama (II)

So-called villains generally come in two types. One is a jumping clown, the other a mastermind behind the scenes. In many works of low artistic caliber, creators only design the former — a villain that bundles together many stereotypes.

They are full of malicious schemes, their brains aren't very sharp, they try every means to make trouble for the protagonist, and in the end only drag themselves down. Not only do they become arrogant upon success, but the moment things go wrong they start blaming heaven, blaming earth, blaming the protagonist; once exposed they burst into tearful repentance.

Such clown characters are useful, but they only suit a fleeting appearance, driving a small plot segment, and cannot serve as a major villain. Otherwise the protagonist who opposes such a person would also appear lacking in stature.

The portrayal of a major villain always follows one principle: shape them according to the standards of a righteous figure.

In their own world a villain never feels they are a villain. They feel what they do is right — or rather, only those who firmly believe they are right can possess enough willpower and resilience to carry out a series of conspiracies and kill the protagonist by any means.

The protagonist fights the villain to save the world; the villain fights the protagonist also to save the world — it's just that the worlds they want to save are different.

Take Superman and Luthor, that pair of old foes: Superman wants to save a world where everyone lives together in harmony; Luthor wants to save a world without Superman.

Superman believes all should coexist peacefully, whether human with human or human with Superman — whoever does evil he stops. But Luthor believes Superman himself is the greatest danger, his very existence is unreasonable and should be eliminated.

Both of their motivations are perfectly reasonable; viewed from their respective perspectives, things are indeed exactly so. It's just that these motivations conflict, so they remain enemies for the long term.

The standard for excellent rival drama is: if one side were willing to abandon their principles, or change certain conditions so the contradiction becomes reconcilable, the two opponents would not only cease to be enemies — they might even become good friends.

Saphir is clearly such a villain. Setting aside his twisted worldview, whether talent, strength, intellect, or bearing in dealing with people — he is practically another Sorcerer Supreme. Yet the magical world he wants to save differs from the Sorcerer Supreme's, so the two inevitably become enemies.

This portrayal has another benefit: no matter who defeats whom, the audience won't have too many complaints. Because from the audience's perspective it's like a righteous Sorcerer Supreme fighting an evil Sorcerer Supreme — whichever wins feels justified.

If the evil Sorcerer Supreme wins, it's because he has both talent and ruthlessness; villainy is the villain's passport. The Sorcerer Supreme loses to him only because he clings too stubbornly to principles of justice, making his defeat all the more tragic.

If the righteous Sorcerer Supreme wins, it's because those who support justice are the majority in this world. Saphir insists on going against the tide, and in the end evil cannot triumph over good. Some even feel pity for him, imagining what the magical world would be like if he had won.

Whereas if, following the original setup, Saphir were portrayed as a jumping clown, then when the protagonist wins the audience wouldn't think the protagonist formidable — they'd only think it was to be expected; and if the protagonist ever ate a loss, the whole plot and character design would collapse.

An evenly matched relationship always gives people more room for imagination — this greatly increases discussion and let IFAMONI expand from a children's film into adult circles. And adults are the main consuming force, especially the lasting impact brought by subsequent consumption and IP operations beyond box office.

As for the school physician's part, there isn't much ink spent on it in the second film; instead Strange and Wanda's screen time increases. These two play roles similar to a strict father and a kind mother in the drama, constantly urging the protagonist group to grow stronger.

The second-year main plot is the New York Sanctum suffering an attack. The first-year vampire invasion left everyone jittery, and with the Sanctum attacked again the professors turned out in full force — even many upper-year students went — resulting in looser discipline within the school, and conflicts between houses growing increasingly fierce.

Clearly, the protagonists also have some incompatible cliques within the school. The second year revolves mainly around student relationships; lacking professor oversight, the kids start forming gangs — you attack me, I oppose you — and almost everyone gets dragged in.

Ultimately a brawl breaks out, resulting in student injuries. The protagonists are also implicated, even framed. The acting dean fans the flames, wishing to send them straight to prison. Fortunately, the protagonists obtain the most crucial evidence through investigation, argue forcefully on principle, and barely salvage the situation.

But IFAMONI falls into crisis again. Two consecutive years of turmoil, plus poor student discipline, provoke strong parental criticism, and the school faces a disbandment crisis.

At this moment, the escapee who attacked the New York Sanctum breaks into the academy and takes hostages. At the most critical juncture, the protagonist team and their former mortal enemies join forces to turn the tide — not only resolving the escapee but also demonstrating the students' strength and wisdom to everyone, saving the school from disbandment.

Shiler only received a portion of the script, mostly the parts concerning him. He didn't know how the students fared afterward; only after watching the initial rough cut did he understand the director's painstaking intent.

In this segment of Saphir's past, Saphir behaves gently throughout. But in the first film, school physician Eldridge was terrifying. Chris also used cinematic language to blur Saphir's features, making it hard for the audience to guess they were the same person.

Yet the audience knows the Sorcerer Supreme is the same person — in Saphir's storyline he appears deep and wise; but in the modern timeline with the children he not only listens to only one side but is also utterly incompetent. This sense of disparity makes the audience suspect whether the two Sorcerer Supremes appearing are actually one person.

In other words, Chris successfully used this segment of Saphir's past to play a narrative trick, making people feel Saphir couldn't possibly be the school physician, while also planting a foreshadowing that successfully makes people suspect whether the Sorcerer Supreme has been swapped.

No wonder he insisted on putting Saphir's past segment at the beginning. Because in the first film the principal's screen time was limited, people didn't know what kind of person the Sorcerer Supreme really was.

That opening passage, through the Sorcerer Supreme's suspicion of Saphir and Saphir's subsequent conduct, confirmed how wise he was, inspiring the audience's admiration for the Sorcerer Supreme.

But that admiration didn't last long — his partisan behavior during the brawl, and his seemingly addle-headed act of wanting to punish students without distinguishing right from wrong, raised audience doubts: would that supremely wise Sorcerer Supreme really do such a foolish thing?

Sure enough, after the film's release countless viewers began speculating whether the Sorcerer Supreme had been swapped — that the one in the school now was a fake, which was why the school was run so chaotically, even letting an adult mage break in and take hostages.

However, also because of Shiler's outstanding performance in both films, no one has yet guessed the school physician is the problem. One can only say dissociative identity disorder is indeed like that — clearly the same person, yet looking completely different, with no one suspecting him.

Many viewers also regretted the school physician's limited appearance in this film, but Wanda won countless fans. Because amid the chaos she steadfastly protected the students and trusted the protagonist group weren't the culprits. When the escapee took hostages she even stepped forward voluntarily, willing to exchange herself for the hostages to save the students.

When filming this part, Wanda never got into character. Not because she didn't love the students or lacked self-sacrifice, but looking at the criminal holding the students, she had to exert all her willpower just to avoid slapping him dead with a single palm.

And when she finally got into character, watching Wanda there emotionally acting out persuading the kidnapper to swap hostages, people who knew her couldn't help but nearly crack up: you mean you're grabbing the Scarlet Witch by the throat and warning her to behave?

That's why they say ignorance is bliss. Fortunately the actor playing the kidnapper didn't know the Scarlet Witch's background; facing the anxious Wanda his ferocious look was quite convincing. If you swapped in the Great Demon Shadow, never mind stubborn resistance — he'd have knelt and surrendered.

Besides the tense, exciting battles, there are naturally some warm, comedic portions, and the one carrying those is the Hippo Goddess. When the first film aired, most people thought the Hippo Goddess was CGI — until the goddess appeared in promotional behind-the-scenes footage and people realized they'd hired a real one.

The Hippo Goddess's performance in the film also had no acting component. Chris even shot many clips of her looking after the child actors on set and put them directly into the final cut — no one felt anything was off.

Of course in this film the Hippo Goddess also accumulated quite a few classic shots — for instance, upon hearing IFAMONI would disband, she sadly ate watermelon, not much different from a real hippo eating watermelon. Crying while swallowing a whole watermelon in one gulp, making people roar with laughter.

Other professors more or less showed their faces, but screen time wasn't much. And through the brawl incident the audience could see what stance each professor stood on — most cared for students, a tiny few just protected themselves — clearly laying groundwork for the final decisive battle.

Billy also got a bit-part role: during the chaotic melee of the brawl he one-hit elbow-struck one of the protagonists flying, and nearly zapped a professor with a lightning bolt — a clumsy upper-year student.

Billy was very satisfied with this role because it let him interact with the protagonists; he even acted opposite one of them for quite a while, and that lightning was summoned by himself using stored divine power.

To be able to summon that lightning bolt, Billy practiced for a long time. Because normally he can only use superpowers in his Shazam state — a child's body cannot wield any power.

But earlier the hospital issued a diagnosis: if he kept switching to adult form it would likely affect his child body's development. Billy recently avoided switching to Shazam as much as possible, yet he didn't want to give up superpowers, so he kept training to use superpowers with a child's body.

Before there wasn't any urgent need, so he just practiced casually. But to act in the film and to have interaction with the protagonist group, he truly trained day and night like mad. Hard work pays off — he finally succeeded.