Chapter Eleven: The Theater Chain Dilemma

“It’s finally over.” After completing the final segment of editing, Yan Xu stretched lazily. He had been holed up in this room for two days, but at last, the film was finished. Yan Xu watched his edit from beginning to end. Although the final sound effects hadn’t been added yet, the tight plot, the bloody scenes, and even the lengthy moments of nudity were sure to catch anyone’s eye.

“How’s it going, Xu? How’s your film coming along?” Bald Qiang asked as soon as he saw Yan Xu enter his room.

“It’s done—just missing the final sound effects, which I’ll need to do at the company. I’ve brought the master tape. It’ll only take a day or two more.” Yan Xu sat down at Bald Qiang’s desk.

“Big Brother, I actually came to ask if there’s been a decision about the release date?” Now that everything was ready, the thing he cared about most was the film’s release. No matter how good the film was, only with a public screening could he consider the project truly complete.

“The release has been discussed with the cinemas, but…” Bald Qiang looked troubled.

“What’s wrong?” Yan Xu’s heart sank at Bald Qiang’s expression.

“Midnight screenings aren’t an issue. Seven or eight cinemas that we regularly work with have open slots in their schedules. But the daytime and evening slots are a bit trickier,” Bald Qiang said.

“No cinemas are willing to give us daytime or evening slots?” Yan Xu asked quickly.

“There’s only one cinema without schedule conflicts. Early September, their current films will be taken down, and our film can step in mid-month. But they have conditions: if the film doesn’t perform well, they reserve the right to pull it early,” Bald Qiang explained.

“Just one cinema?” This was far from what Yan Xu had hoped for. While there were just over a hundred cinemas in all of Hong Kong, he didn’t expect to be shown in as many as those big company films with ten or twenty theaters. Seven or eight would have been good enough, but only one was far from satisfactory.

“Two cinemas already signed contracts with ‘Good and Evil,’ and four are still showing ‘I Love Rolando’ and ‘Love’s Wrong Turns.’ Both are doing well at the box office, especially ‘I Love Rolando’—it became the top film after ‘Fast Food Truck’ left theaters, and has already made over seven million,” Bald Qiang nodded as he spoke.

“Our film won’t premiere until mid-September. ‘I Love Rolando’ and ‘Love’s Wrong Turns’ have already been running for a while. How long are their screening contracts for?” Yan Xu frowned. If only one cinema showed his film, no matter how good it was, it would never meet his expectations.

“They should end mid-September, but it’s likely the runs will be extended. The next films—‘Aura,’ ‘Fate,’ and ‘Shanghai Nights’—won’t be ready until the end of this month or next month,” Bald Qiang replied.

“So that means we still have a chance. If our film is good enough, they might pick us up?” Yan Xu asked.

“Mm.”

“That’s enough then.” Yan Xu looked at Bald Qiang. “Big Brother, can you arrange for all the managers of the independent cinemas in Hong Kong to come to our company? I want to hold a small private screening for them.” Yan Xu knew the three major cinema chains would never give a small company like Battle-Tested Films a chance. He could only approach the independents, but he was confident in his film.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Only two came?” Yan Xu looked at Bald Qiang and asked.

“Mm.” Bald Qiang nodded. “Only one manager from a company we usually work with showed up—a Mr. Ma. But we did get someone from another independent chain, and they have two cinemas.”

“So three cinemas in all?” Yan Xu pondered. With those three plus the one already under contract, that made four in total. Still far from his hopes, but it would have to do. He was confident that, once these cinema representatives saw the film, he’d be able to secure their cooperation.

A small company like Battle-Tested didn’t have the luxury of a dedicated screening room. The film would be shown in the office, with a small projector screen serving as their makeshift theater.

This was the first screening since the film was completed. Though there were only a handful of people in the room, Yan Xu was filled with anxiety. This was the first real test of his work—the first full-length film he had directed since his graduation short.

“It’s too short. How can it hold anyone’s attention? And there’s not much nudity, either.” From the start, Yan Xu paid less attention to the screen than to the reactions of the cinema representatives. Clearly, the opening hadn’t impressed them. The scene where the protagonist, as a child, peeks at his father and stepmother in an intimate moment was a brief flash—enough to catch the eye, but too short to stir much interest.

“What’s the point of being caught right at the beginning? And the interrogation just goes on and on.” The next scene was tight, but lacked any real highlights.

“So it’s a flashback.” Only when the male lead began recalling the past did the stifling atmosphere in the room lighten a little.

“Wow…”

“Ah…”

“Haha…”

As the plot deepened, the initial complaints faded. The few people in the room were now staring wide-eyed at the screen. The scenes of the protagonist’s twisted behavior, the graphic violence, the raw sensory impact—all of it was mesmerizing. The initially enticing nude scenes quickly became secondary.

A film with such a strong sense of realism had the power to draw the audience in completely, making them feel like voyeurs, witnesses to the unfolding crime—immersed from start to finish in an unnervingly authentic experience.

“Amazing.”

“Is this really a Battle-Tested production?” It was a long while after the credits rolled before anyone spoke. The manager from their partner cinema could scarcely believe this was the work of Battle-Tested. In his experience, their films were usually quick cash grabs or mere vehicles for shock value—not at all like this.

“We’ll take your film.” The manager from the other company didn’t hesitate. He didn’t care that there were no stars or high-production values—this film’s tight story and visceral impact would grab any audience, and the plot was ripped straight from the headlines of Hong Kong’s latest scandals. There was no way it wouldn’t draw a crowd.

“We want it too,” chimed in Manager Ma, not wanting to be left behind. “I Love Rolando” was nearly out of theaters, daily receipts were dropping, and this film was the perfect successor.