Chapter 381: Bragging About Being Worse

At the beginning of 2010, the film market was essentially dominated by Avatar.

Even October Siege, which had once hoped to make a decent profit, now seemed unlikely to reach 350 million.

Three Musketeers was even worse off.

It was crushed head-on by October Siege, undermined behind the scenes by Old Man Han's maneuvers, and surrounded from behind by new releases like Avatar and Confucius.

As things stand now, this film's box office is around 150 million, at most fluctuating by a few million.

From this data, the performance isn't bad—it even securely ranks in the top ten of this year's mainland chart.

But don't forget, this film was directed by Old Man Zhang.

Since Hero, you can say Old Man Zhang's films have controversial reviews, but you cannot say his box office performance is poor.

Hero shattered records, Ten Blades Ambush ranked among the top three of that year's box office, and House of Flying Daggers broke the domestic box office record again.

Even the art film A Single Journey also earned 30 million, placing it in the top ten of that year's box office.

For Three Musketeers, Old Man Zhang, riding the prestige of directing the Olympic opening ceremony, already appeared as China's top director, bringing in last year's red-hot Xiao Shen Yang and Sun Honglei, along with Zhao Ben Shan as support.

This lineup was originally aimed squarely at the annual box office champion—and even at breaking records.

Before the film's release, New Picture's target was a guaranteed 400 million, with a goal of 500 million; the public generally believed 300 million was no problem, showing how strong the momentum was.

Now, with these results, Han Yan's suppression is only one reason; the biggest problem is that the film itself is terrible.

After all, Old Man Zhang and his team's pull and influence are right there—China has so many people, and there's no shortage of stubborn fools who won't listen.

Even when The Battle of Red Cliffs Part One was trashed, Part Two nearly reached 300 million in box office.

Yan Li and Old Man Han were both somewhat disappointed.

But there's nothing to be done—peak Old Man Zhang is just that powerful; if his box office didn't exceed 100 million, the two of them wouldn't be Mountain Demon and Yan Batian, but Eastern Heretic and Yang Dingtian.

Three Musketeers publicly claimed a budget over 100 million—that's pure nonsense.

Xiao Shen Yang and Sun Honglei are popular, but they aren't film actors; film pay is low, let alone for an Old Man Zhang movie.

For many artists, such a renowned director's major project is a career stepping stone, and their pay can be discounted.

The film's biggest investment was probably the rights to Blood Simple, reportedly costing several million U. S. dollars, but that's questionable too—it's not a super IP, and it's an old work from years ago.

According to industry estimates, production costs were around 30 to 50 million, while marketing is harder to gauge.

Mainly because this film never followed normal marketing tactics—public arguments and denials mattered more than the movie itself, making it hard to calculate actual spending.

But it's safe to assume total costs were at most a few hundred million, and with other rights sales, it should at least break even.

Still, although the books didn't show a loss, New Picture had waited years for Old Man Zhang—equivalent to one project every few years—and in the end, it was all for nothing; the company's reputation was ruined, and their cash cow Old Man Zhang had left.

Boss Zhang's temper—getting hypertension would be the mildest outcome; he might even suffer a heart attack from rage.

Boss Zhang isn't the only one at risk of hypertension—Boss Wu from Taiwan is in trouble too.

The film Crimson Tomb, claimed to have cost over 100 million, earned less than 60 million, becoming collateral damage in the battle between October Siege and Three Musketeers.

This film was also terribly made, on par with Three Musketeers, but the latter had greater fame, so it stole the spotlight.

Li Tianwang was persuaded to return to singing; Zhi Ling Sister was mocked endlessly; the most affected was actually Chen Daoming.

Before this, Chen Daoming's image was high—he was praised for his acting, appearance, demeanor, eloquence, and strong principles, seen as an elegant, refined, and profound artist, extremely popular among middle-aged male actors.

This high image usually worked to his advantage, but when trouble struck, the higher he was praised, the harder he was crushed.

If another big star had made Crimson Tomb, they might have been dragged down by the bad film, but not attacked so fiercely.

Like Zeng Zhiwei—nobody cared; everyone knew he made plenty of bad films.

But Chen Daoming had a high image and few scandals; when such an opportunity arose, people naturally raged at his failure and condemned his decline.

Only because Zhou Lin was already in front, and Old Man Zhang had fallen even harder from his pedestal, was Chen Daoming spared from being nailed to the wall of shame by Crimson Tomb—but even so, this remains an indelible black mark on his record.

Chen Daoming's misfortune didn't spare Zhou Runfa and Jackie Chan.

The film Big Soldier Little General wasn't badly made, but its quality wasn't especially outstanding either.

Moreover, Wang Lihong was truly unsuited for acting—he didn't drag the film down, but offered no help or surprise, carrying the entire movie on Jackie Chan's shoulders alone.

Everyone mocked Xie Tingfeng in New Police Story as a prop; compared to Wang Lihong, you realize Chef Xie still had some skill—he was at least a useful prop.

In a dual-lead film, if one doesn't shine, it's like walking on a limp leg.

Worse still, this film isn't Jackie Chan's signature martial arts comedy.

Jackie Chan desperately wanted to transform; in New Shanghai Incident and Big Soldier Little General, his characters were pathetic, powerless, and met tragic ends.

But he wanted to transform, while the market and audience still wanted to see him laughing, stumbling, and defeating all enemies in martial arts comedies.

Even with Avatar's dominance, Jackie Chan's name plus Wang Lihong, the singing king, still projected 100 to 150 million in box office—clearly showing the market's and audience's attitude.

As for Zhou Runfa's Confucius, it was even worse than Big Soldier Little General.

The entire film can be summed up in two words: boring and mediocre. Calling it a bad film might be harsh, but it's genuinely unwatchable.

Based on current box office trends, Confucius might struggle to reach 100 million.

Remember, Zhou Runfa is among the highest-paid actors in the industry; Jackie Chan takes a share, so his income follows the box office, but Zhou Runfa gets a fixed fee.

Besides Zhou Runfa, the female lead Young Master Zhou's salary was also high among actresses, and with all the grand scenes, even if the crew's claimed 150 million budget was inflated, it still amounted to nearly 100 million or a few hundred million.

With this investment and this box office, Confucius can definitely compete for the title of the most money-losing film of the New Year season.

The producer of Confucius is Dadi Times, a little-known company, but its Dadi Cinema chain is quite famous.

Currently, it fluctuates around the top ten of China's theater market, mainly developing in Guangdong and Guangxi, making it a dominant force in South China.

Notably, Dadi Cinema Chain has only existed for three years; in terms of growth speed, it's among the most outstanding new chains.

Dadi's ambitions are decent—they also want to walk on two legs like Yi'an: film investment plus theater chain.

Unfortunately, a theater chain can expand endlessly with money and power, but film investment truly depends on ability and luck.

Not just Dadi—even Wanda, the current theater chain leader, has hit several soft bumps and now dares not easily enter film investment.

Since their two legs can't run together, Yi'an, whose two legs run fast and steady, becomes even more valuable.

Against the backdrop of so many big films that both lost money and were terrible, October Siege, already virtually guaranteed as the New Year season's top-grossing domestic film, shines brilliantly with its backer Yi'an.

The Southern Metropolis Daily's sharp commentary: Yan Li, this "Nan Batian," is not a master forged by Yi'an's brilliance, but one created by his utterly incompetent peers—his dominance stems not from Yi'an's strength, but from the rest of the industry's utter failure.

But many argue this view is not objective: why are all others rotten, yet Yi'an is not?

This likely stems from Yi'an's outstanding and advanced corporate culture, operational mechanisms, and Nan Batian's exceptional management and judgment.

We cannot attribute Nan Batian's success to his peers' failures; instead, we should ask why only Yi'an avoids mistakes.

Nan Batian did not respond to either voice—he still quite likes how the outside world currently defines Yi'an.

Not too much praise; praise too high would burden Yi'an with unnecessary pressure.

Especially in the film and television industry, where quality varies and evaluation standards are relatively subjective, boldly proclaiming "Yi'an Production = Masterpiece" or "Huayu's Sole Conscience Company" can easily invite mockery and leave the company with no face to save.

This current state isn't perfect, but it's better than all the others—appearing as an industry leader is enough.

Nan Batian dislikes competing to be the best; the pressure is too great. Competing to be the worst is his comfort zone.

…

Not only does Nan Batian enjoy competing to be the worst; women also love to compete when they gather.

In late January, Hua Yi actress Luo Haiqiong married her long-term boyfriend, Hua Yi Vice President Fei Qi, at the Jingcheng Borey Hotel, where many Hua Yi artists and celebrities came to celebrate.

Of course, Huo Siyan could not be absent from such a lively occasion.

She and Luo Haiqiong get along well enough, mainly because her closest friend Liu Yun is also close to her; invited, she came along with Liu Yun to have some fun.

Liu Yun brought her boyfriend Zheng Jun—the two have publicly dated and are now inseparable, constantly clinging to each other, making Huo Siyan seethe with irritation.

What's so impressive about a forty-something man?

The relationship between Liu Yun and Huo Siyan is peculiar: if you say they're not close, they often hang out together and think of each other when something happens; if you say they're close, they constantly compete, gossip behind each other's backs, and even once quarreled over Qin Lan.

Seeing Huo Siyan's bad mood, she deliberately dragged Zheng Jun right in front of her eyes.

Only when Huo spoke up to shoo them away did she let Zheng Jun go chat with his friends, then turned to care for Huo Siyan again.

"You've been single for a while now—you should find someone."

Previously, Huo Siyan pretended to have a boyfriend, but after repeatedly failing to produce him, they broke up and got back together until finally, at the end of last year, she completely "dumped" him.

Now that she's single again, she's inevitably bombarded by her sisters urging her to date and marry.

After all, Huo was born in 1980 and is about to turn thirty; her older sisters in the Teddy Sisterhood—Big Sister and Second Sister—are already mothers, and she's already considered an old maid.

"Why do you care about me? What about Fourth Sister (Li Xiaolu)? She's still single too."