Best Director in Literature Department of Huayu

Chapter 33 Interviews, Public Relations, CAA

Berlin Film Palace, February 10th evening.

French director Régis Wagner's "The Legend of the Savage" had its world premiere at the Palais des Festivals as the opening film.

Lin Ruiyang and Fatty stood outside the media area, watching from afar as Wagner led the crew across the red carpet, feeling as if the actresses were emitting white steam with every step they took.

"This red carpet looks impressive, but walking on it will freeze you half to death," the fat man said, shrinking his neck.

The opening ceremony proceeded smoothly as planned.

Jury president Roland Emmerich took the stage to give a speech, ending with a joke from the German director who made "The Day After Tomorrow".

"Berlin welcomes all films, especially those that dare to take risks."

In the following days, the films in the competition section were screened in turn according to the schedule, and the critics' daily reports were updated with scores.

February 14, 2005, Valentine's Day.

This festival seems somewhat extravagant amidst Berlin's hustle and bustle.

Film distributors dressed in black suits and film critics wearing scarves of various colors hurried about in the square, while Lin Ruiyang sat in the hotel lobby coffee shop looking outside.

In front of him was a copy of that day's Variety, with the headline about Sean Penn and Nicole Kidman.

The section on Asian films unusually devoted considerable space to Tsai Ming-liang and Gu Changwei.

"Director Lin, what are you looking at?"

Wang Hai sat down with a cup of coffee in his hand, along with several thick envelopes.

"This is the final schedule sent by the organizing committee for tomorrow afternoon's media session and press conference. There's also a final audio-visual test for the technical aspects."

Lin Ruiyang withdrew his gaze and pointed to the newspaper: "I'm watching how the competitors are performing. As a newcomer, my voice is still too weak; I could easily become just a background figure if I'm not careful."

Wang Hai smiled, a hint of scrutiny in his eyes: "Judging from your attitude, you don't seem like someone who's afraid of being a background character."

Lin Ruiyang rolled his eyes in response. Both of them knew that China Film Group had spent a lot of money on publicity for the crew these past two days, so why pretend to be innocent?

Even if Chinese-language films are very popular in a place like Berlin, without dedicated public relations and promotional materials, they can easily be drowned out by the overwhelming number of European art films.

If you look closely, you can see the cold-toned still from "A Separation," a film filled with oppressive tension, in the windows of several core art-house cinemas in Berlin and opposite the doors of hotels where major media outlets stay.

2 month 15 day.

Lin Ruiyang woke up earlier than his alarm clock today. He straightened his collar in front of the mirror and a confident smile appeared on his lips.

3 p.m., Cinematheque Berlin, Hall 3.

The lights and shadows went out on the huge screen, and the last frame froze on the back of the child standing at the end of the corridor, unsure whether to walk toward his father or his mother.

The entire room fell into a deathly silence that lasted for nearly ten seconds, even causing the fat man sitting in the front row to hold his breath in tension, his palms sweating profusely.

The first round of applause came from the media section on the second floor, and then a tidal wave of applause instantly engulfed the entire screening room.

Less than half an hour after the screening ended, the press conference was already set up, with three rows of seats facing the podium and cameras set up in the back.

"Director Lin, there isn't a single bad guy in your film, but everyone is hurting each other. Is this some kind of metaphor for contemporary family relationships in your country?"

The question was posed by a senior film critic from Cahiers du Cinéma. Although his tone was polite, his question was as sharp as a knife.

Lin Ruiyang adjusted the microphone, his expression calm: "This isn't a metaphor; it's the truth of life. In real tragedies, everyone is fighting with the shield of justice. What I'm filming is the damage caused by this irreparable 'rightness'."

"Some people have commented that your camera work is too detached, even somewhat cold-blooded, which seems inconsistent with your age of nineteen. Is this deliberate imitation, or your own personal aesthetic preference?"

Another German journalist pressed for an answer.

Lin Ruiyang smiled slightly: "A camera should be a mirror, not a loudspeaker. I want the audience to see themselves in the mirror, not to see the director shouting instructions from behind."

As for age, my teacher Liu Yibing once taught me that a creator's soul has no birth date or time.

This insightful and compelling response instantly brought the atmosphere to a climax.

The three lead actors who were present were then bombarded with questions by the media. When Guo Xiaodong was asked about his character's motivation, he only said, "The director gave me the framework, and I filled in the rest."

Hao Lei answered even more bluntly: "The script was written by the director himself, I just acted according to the script."

After the press conference, Lin Ruiyang declined several interviews from niche European weekly magazines and prepared to take the elevator back to his room through the back door.

"Young director, please wait a moment."

A white man in his early thirties, wearing a dark gray fitted suit, blocked the stairwell.

Unlike the reporters who carried recording pens, he exuded a natural ease that belonged to the film and television industry.

"I am Roeg Sutherland, from CAA (Creative Elite Cultural Brokerage)."

He handed over a business card.

"I just finished watching your film, and I'd like to talk to you about things beyond the art of filmmaking."

Lin Ruiyang glanced at the business card. He recognized the name: the key figure in CAA's international film division, the man who would one day propel countless independent directors to the Oscars.

"Mr. Sutherland, if you want to talk about copyright, you should go to my producer, Wang Hai."

Lin Ruiyang responded in fluent English, without revealing much emotion.

"Copyright is just the corpse of a film; I care more about its soul and future vitality. Your narrative efficiency is extremely high, and this kind of restraint is rare among Asian directors."

Roger pointed to the terrace.

"In CAA's view, you are an outlier with the potential to create a global business narrative. Therefore, I would like to represent CAA in signing your overseas agency agreement."

The two walked onto the hotel terrace, where the cold wind made Lin Ruiyang's mind even clearer.

"Lin, as a token of my sincerity, I can leverage CAA's connections in Europe to help 'A Separation' with its public relations efforts with the jury during the final three days."

Roger lowered his voice.

"You should know that off-field factors are equally important in the final competition for awards."

Lin Ruiyang leaned against the railing, his fingertips tracing the business card.

He understands Hollywood's logic all too well: if you don't have leverage in negotiations, you're just a commodity they're packaging and selling.

After thinking for a while, Lin Ruiyang gave his answer.

"Rogge, I can sign a special agency agreement for the North American market, but I have two conditions."

"Speaking."

"First, CAA will cover the public relations expenses following the Berlin Film Festival. I need to see the actual results first."

"Yes, but there's a cut required for overseas CAA issuance."

"Second," Lin Ruiyang paused, his tone becoming somewhat mysterious.

"I need you to give me a report on all the projects currently in development in Hollywood, especially those whose scripts have been rejected multiple times."