Chapter 136: Awards

Although the Sitges Film Festival has been running for over a decade, its award categories were relatively few. Beyond standard honors like Best Director and Best Film, the festival featured unconventional awards, such as the Audience Choice Award voted on by attendees and the Jury Grand Prize selected by the panel. This year, however, the festival broke tradition by adding four new regular categories: Best Short Film, Best Animated Short Film, Best New Director, and Best Vision. These four categories were specifically designed to discover and encourage new talent and the production of low-budget fantasy films.

Yan Xu led Rosamund Kwan and their team into the venue. This was his first time attending a foreign film festival awards ceremony. Aside from the fact that all the faces around him were foreign, the ceremony felt no different from the Hong Kong Film Awards.

Due to the high volume of nominations, Yan Xu and his team were seated in the fourth row near the center aisle. Perhaps by deliberate arrangement from the organizers, sitting right next to them was the team behind *Silent Night, Deadly Night*, the film that had replaced Yan Xu’s *House No. 1* as the opening feature. To Westerners, that film might be notorious for tarnishing the image of Santa Claus in the eyes of children, but to Yan Xu—a true Easterner who viewed Christmas merely as a holiday for romance—it was a decent thriller.

Across the aisle sat the team behind *Farewell to the Ark*. The passing of Shūji Terayama was a significant loss for Japanese experimental cinema and a point of regret for Yan Xu. Perhaps thanks to the introduction by Shinichi Ozawa, the team from *Farewell to the Ark* greeted Yan Xu’s group frequently, proving that Yan Xu’s two films had already gained some influence in Japan.

In the front rows, alongside the nominated teams, were various Western stars, including renowned actors and directors. Yan Xu recognized the teams behind *Re-Animator*, *Day of the Dead*, *Lifeforce*, and *Phenomena*.

The opening fantasy performance was an eye-opener for Yan Xu. There were no flashy special effects, only masterful prosthetic makeup and the actors' performances. Even twenty years later, such a display would still be mesmerizing.

"The winner for Best Cinematography is... Tatsuo Suzuki, for *Farewell to the Ark*." As the presenter finished, Pan Hengsheng, sitting beside Yan Xu, went rigid before slowly relaxing. Though his face betrayed disappointment, he still clapped to congratulate his rival. Yan Xu reached out and patted his arm in consolation.

After the awards for Best Short Film and Best Music, it was finally time for Best Cinematography—a category in which *House No. 1* was nominated. Despite knowing the competition was fierce, Yan Xu had hoped for a strong start, but things did not go as planned. Pan Hengsheng lost out to the fellow Asian cinematographer, Tatsuo Suzuki.

At every awards ceremony, each announcement brings joy to some and disappointment to others. The organizers skillfully used these moments of tension to build atmosphere, interspersed with performances or witty commentary from the hosts to break the tension.

While all Western film festivals claim to be impartial, differences in region, culture, and taste inevitably lead to gaps in judgment. Asian films, in particular, often faced a disadvantage against Western counterparts, compounded by the subtle, lingering racial biases of some jurors.

Initially, Yan Xu hadn't been overly concerned about winning; the enthusiastic reception of *House No. 1* at the festival had already achieved his goal. Of course, winning an award would be the icing on the cake. Now, however, due to his wager with Jenkins, the need to win had become urgent. He had no desire to streak outside the festival venue—even if such an act might be considered "performance art" in this environment.

Following the Best Cinematography award, the Best Supporting Actor and Actress awards were presented. These categories held no stake for Yan Xu, and the winners were seasoned actors from Sweden and Finland.

The Best New Director award went to a twenty-five-year-old Norwegian, whose thirty-minute short film cost less than five hundred dollars to produce—making it the lowest-budget film of the festival.

The subsequent awards brought Yan Xu to the peak of his nervousness. *House No. 1* was nominated in three consecutive categories: Best Special Effects, Best Screenplay, and Best Actress. The competition in these fields was fierce.

In the Best Special Effects category, *House No. 1*'s main rival was *Lifeforce*, and Jenkins happened to be one of its producers.

If the award had been broken down into more specific categories like "Best Makeup Effects" and "Best Visual Effects," Yan Xu would have been less worried. He could confidently say that the makeup in *House No. 1* was top-tier. However, the category combined makeup with technical effects. *House No. 1* lacked anything that could be called a "special effect" beyond makeup. In contrast, *Lifeforce* utilized effects beyond just makeup: spaceships traversing the void, mummified corpses—technologies that, while appearing thin and CG-reliant to Yan Xu, were at the cutting edge for this era.

"Best Special Effects, *Lifeforce*, John Dykstra." As the presenter spoke, cheers erupted from the *Lifeforce* team. *Lifeforce* had two nominations at the festival, and this win was a strong start. Since John Dykstra was not present, Jenkins seized the spotlight, taking the stage to accept the trophy. After a self-introduction and a string of thank-yous, he even cast a provocative glance at Yan Xu.

"Best Screenplay, *King Kong's Fist*, Rolf Jensen, Heiner Adler, Lee-Chin Insberg, and Lillian Tagovak!" The next award went to the West German team, making Yan Xu’s heart sink. That was the third award lost; only Best Actress remained.

"The winner of the 18th Sitges Film Festival Best Actress is..."

The presenter was Joe Morton, the previous year’s Best Actor winner. The American actor knew how to build suspense. As he paused, the cameras scanned the faces of the five nominees. Most were newcomers, and each looked visibly anxious.

Rosamund Kwan, sitting next to Yan Xu, was no exception. Though she maintained a smile, her hand, tucked beneath her seat, gripped Yan Xu’s so tightly that he could feel her palm sweating and her body trembling, betraying her inner turmoil.

This was Rosamund’s first nomination. Though it was only a fantasy film festival, it was still an international honor. For a woman who had been playing supporting roles just months ago, this felt like winning the lottery. Her recent professional and marital struggles seemed to be turning a corner. While she was content just to be nominated, deep down, she yearned to win.

Yan Xu held her hand. In other circumstances, he would have caressed her palm, his mind wandering elsewhere, but he had no such luxury now. Out of four nominations, three had failed. This final one was crucial, and the competition was immense. Each nominee had delivered an exceptional performance. This was the last hope for *House No. 1*, and it simply could not be lost.

"For *House No. 1*, Rosamund Kwan." As Joe Morton’s voice finished, Yan Xu’s rigid frame finally relaxed, and he let out a long sigh of relief. This was the first time an Asian woman had won Best Actress at Sitges. His *House No. 1* would not return empty-handed.

"Ah!" Rosamund was even more thrilled. Hearing her name, she seemed unable to believe it. As everyone’s gaze turned toward her, her eyes welled with tears of excitement. She had succeeded. This was her first true recognition, and she knew it was only the beginning—she would attain much more.

Rosamund looked quickly at Yan Xu, knowing he was the one who had made this possible. Her eyes were filled with gratitude, but unsure of how to express it, she stood up and turned toward him. Instead of a simple hug, she leaned in and pressed her lips against his.

The touch of her soft lips against his own, carrying a faint scent of vanilla, stunned Yan Xu. He hadn't expected such a bold move. Though he had tasted her lips during the filming, this was entirely different. She knew the setting and kept the kiss brief, but only Yan Xu felt how her tongue lingered, shyly grazing his gums and tongue in a gesture that masqueraded as a standard Western greeting.

In that moment, Yan Xu forgot all about his bet with Jenkins. Watching Rosamund walk toward the stage, savoring the lingering fragrance on his lips, Yan Xu felt a sudden, uncontrollable stir of excitement.