Chapter Twenty-Nine: Major Events and Post-Production

After seeing Tang Wei home, Gu Zhi didn’t return to his own rented room until around midnight. Alone in bed, for some reason, he found himself unable to sleep for a long time. Eventually, he gave up on sleep altogether, got up, turned on the light, walked over to his desk, and began writing furiously. It wasn’t until four in the morning that he finally put down his pen, gazed at his new work with satisfaction, and collapsed into sleep.

…

It was now late July. The summer heat was oppressive, and an inexplicable restlessness seemed to pervade every street and alleyway of the capital. Half of the year 2000 had already passed, and the film and television world had witnessed no small number of major events in that time.

Wang Fei, who held an unshakable position in the national music scene, was an undisputed hot topic—not for her songs, but for her love life. First, her marital troubles with Dou Wei sparked a media frenzy, and then, on June 12th, Wang Fei and Nicholas Tse attended a celebratory party for Wong Kar-wai’s “In the Mood for Love,” where they held hands in public, making their relationship official. The two would go through breakups and reconciliations, marry and divorce, only to end up together again more than a decade later. Their tangled, dramatic storylines could outdo any idol drama in romance and twists.

Speaking of Wong Kar-wai’s “In the Mood for Love,” that was another event that rocked the Chinese-language film industry this year. The film was hailed by the media as one of the most classic Chinese-language movies. Tony Leung won Best Actor at Cannes, the Golden Horse, and the Hong Kong Film Awards for his role, while Maggie Cheung won Best Actress at the Golden Horse and Hong Kong Film Awards. The movie went on to win or be nominated for the top foreign film awards at five different national film festivals, making it one of the most highly acclaimed Chinese-language films among Western critics. For those who love a poetic and refined cinematic style, this film was an object of endless adoration. As for Gu Zhi, he had only two words for it—one being “beautiful,” the other “pretentious.”

After the directors from Hong Kong, it was time for the Taiwanese directors to shine. Ang Lee’s “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon” premiered in the mainland on July 8th. Gu Zhi, having watched it many times in his previous life, didn’t bother to see it in theaters this time. “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon” was a martial arts film tailor-made for Western audiences—its success was indisputable, for it marked the first time a Chinese name appeared in the Oscar’s Best Foreign Language Film category. Ang Lee’s international reputation was firmly established thereafter. The then-21-year-old Zhang Ziyi officially began her journey from the national stage to the international arena—and this was only her second film.

Zhang Ziyi’s starting point was so high that she eclipsed 99% of her peers the moment she debuted; from then on, she advanced triumphantly, navigating all manner of conflicts and contradictions, and ultimately became one of the most acclaimed professional actresses among Chinese stars.

Back in the mainland film and television world, another major event occurred in mid-May. Jiang Wen’s self-directed, self-acted film “Devils on the Doorstep” was sent to the Cannes Film Festival without passing the broadcasting authority’s review, and ended up winning the Grand Jury Prize. For violating the rules, Jiang Wen was administratively banned from directing for five years by the Film Bureau. The film had been invested in by China Film Group, and Han Sanping was livid at Jiang Wen’s unilateral decision to enter the film. That happened to be during the shooting period of “The Butterfly Effect,” so Han Sanping was busy dealing with the fallout and had no time for the set.

Meanwhile, Feng Xiaogang’s “A Sigh” had wrapped filming. On July 4th, he announced the film would be released nationwide in September. On the same day, he even threw down the gauntlet to Gu Zhi’s “The Butterfly Effect,” proposing a box office showdown. Of course, this was just Director Feng’s skillful publicity tactic—neither Gu Zhi nor Ning Hao responded. After all, Feng was a senior figure in the industry, and Gu Zhi had already offended him with his brash remarks at the last press conference. At this point, more words would be pointless. Gu Zhi didn’t want to back down, nor did he think it wise to sour the relationship completely, so he simply ignored it. Besides, they hadn’t even set a release date for their film yet.

Aside from all this, there was also a heartbreaking event in the first half of the year. At 7:30 a.m. on July 17th, the renowned performing artist Zhao Lirong passed away peacefully at home from lung cancer, aged 72. On July 27th, at her memorial service, tens of thousands came to say goodbye—including the entire crew of “The Butterfly Effect,” Gu Zhi among them. Zhao Lirong’s skits were a cherished Spring Festival memory for a generation. Even before Gu Zhi’s rebirth, her performances still aired on television from time to time. The passing of a true people’s artist was a great loss.

…Let us pause in silent tribute for three minutes…

After the memorial, Gu Zhi and Ning Hao began dealing with the post-production of “The Butterfly Effect.” The entire post-production process was extremely complex, and the first step was developing the film stock—nothing else could proceed until the negatives were processed. The era of digital cinematography hadn’t fully arrived yet. The first batch of digital equipment had only just been introduced by the national film bureau the previous year, and even if Gu Zhi wanted to use it for “The Butterfly Effect,” there was no way someone of his standing would get access.

There could be no mistakes in developing the film stock—otherwise, two and a half months of effort by the whole crew would be for nothing.

In the end, Liu Qi personally led the China Film production team to deliver the negatives to the Beijing Film Studio, ensuring that nothing would go wrong during development and printing. Liu Qi had been with the crew since shooting began on “The Butterfly Effect,” serving as on-set producer. Han Sanping seemed intent on grooming her as a producer for China Film. Gu Zhi was used to working with Liu Qi, and with her overseeing the process, he could rest easy.

Once the negatives were developed, the official post-production work began. From picture editing and sound editing to scoring, mixing, color grading, sound effects, and special effects, a long series of tasks required the team’s hands-on involvement. As a science fiction film, special effects weren’t the main feature of “The Butterfly Effect”—there were only a handful of effects shots, just enough to let the audience understand when the protagonist’s consciousness began to travel through time.

Science fiction films didn’t necessarily require dazzling special effects. Many classic low-budget international sci-fi films used creativity instead. For example, “The Man from Earth,” a famous film, had no effects whatsoever. The entire movie took place in a small house, just a few characters in conversation; and yet, it was a complete science fiction story. It was a sci-fi legend built entirely with words, constructing a mysterious world through dialogue alone.

Similarly, 1997’s “Cube” had almost no effects—the entire film was set in a series of identical cube-shaped rooms, a classic case of low-budget creativity triumphing. “The Butterfly Effect” was similar to those films; special effects weren’t the priority. Editing was the heart of the film, weaving together the protagonist’s adult and childhood lives, showing how changing the past alters the future.

Gu Zhi, deeply familiar with the film from his previous life, hadn’t edited before, so Ning Hao personally took charge of the editing, with Gu Zhi assisting at his side. Other aspects of post-production were mostly handled by the China Film production team, with Ning Hao coordinating and reviewing the results. Gu Zhi followed through every step, determined to learn and not miss even the smallest detail.

Post-production proceeded in an orderly fashion, and soon it was August.