Chapter Thirty-Six: A Report on the Eve of the Premiere

On September 23rd, after the live broadcast of "Happy Camp" ended, Gu Zhi and his three companions returned to the hotel that night and indulged in a long, lazy sleep. They didn't get up until the afternoon the next day, then caught their flight back to the capital.

The 28th was the much-anticipated premiere of "The Butterfly Effect," and while Gu Zhi was filled with expectation, a faint unease lingered within him.

For more than half a month, China Film had relentlessly promoted the movie through traditional media channels, ensuring that nearly everyone who should know about the film was indeed aware of it. The marketing campaign on chat groups continued to spark heated conversations, making the film known to countless young people and college students, igniting their curiosity and desire to learn more about it.

The two professional film reviews Gu Zhi had personally written were now fermenting across major online forums, garnering thousands of reposts and comments in just three days. None of the netizens had yet seen "The Butterfly Effect" or the other current hit, "Mission Impossible 2." At such a moment, the sudden appearance of two high-quality reviews before either film’s release caused an immediate sensation in cinema-related discussions.

It was as if an industry insider had suddenly emerged to reveal a tantalizing secret, previously unknown and irresistibly intriguing. Even though the so-called secret was essentially baseless, it never failed to attract the attention and trust of the internet masses.

Many people had already caught glimpses of "The Butterfly Effect" through TV trailers and promotional posters. Now, fueled by these confidently written reviews, their curiosity and anticipation for the so-called "first science fiction film of China" grew ever stronger, and they resolved to see it in theaters at the earliest opportunity.

Conversely, there were many who spared no effort in attacking "The Butterfly Effect" online, criticizing the two reviews and hurling insults at the anonymous authors behind them. These individuals accused the reviewers of taking bribes to hype up domestic films, of sacrificing conscience for money, while simultaneously lavishing praise on "Mission Impossible 2," John Woo, and American blockbusters in general, sparing no effort to belittle "The Butterfly Effect."

Gu Zhi could not fathom these people. Neither film had been released, and yet they rushed to extol foreign movies. If it were just a matter of personal taste, that would be understandable—no one could force them to favor domestic films. But why, while singing praises for foreign productions, must they relentlessly disparage their own country’s creations?

And it wasn’t just the film industry—such behavior was common in many areas. When confronted with something unfamiliar, they would praise the foreign alternative without hesitation, declaring anything foreign to be the best by default. Then, regardless of the facts, they would begin to berate their own country, insisting that anything domestic was the worst in the world—worse than Japan, India, or even their neighbors to the north.

Their attacks were never truly about the issue at hand. First, they would heap scorn on the ruling party, then on government agencies, and finally on the Chinese people as a whole, branding everyone as brainwashed. Try to reason with them, and they’d resort to emotional arguments; respond with sentiment, and they’d change the subject. When finally cornered, they'd simply resort to insults.

For more than a decade, this tiresome pattern had played out endlessly. In his previous life, Gu Zhi had seen such people often; now, he could scarcely be bothered to acknowledge them. They were never going to support the box office of "The Butterfly Effect" anyway; to Gu Zhi, they were the most irrelevant audience segment of all.

Arguing with such people was a waste of time and energy. He would rather spend his efforts on something more worthwhile—like sleep.

By now, all the feasible promotional efforts had been made. Everything hinged on the film’s reception upon release.

"The Butterfly Effect" would not host a grand premiere. The main cast and crew simply weren’t big names, and the film’s box office prospects remained uncertain. With only China Film behind them, and lacking enough clout, even a premiere would not attract many stars to lend their support. Neither Gu Zhi nor Ning Hao wished to invite embarrassment; better to let the film open quietly and normally.

Likewise, there would be no promotional tour for the "Butterfly Effect" team. In 2000, the concept of a "roadshow" simply did not exist—not even the term was in use. It wasn’t until 2002, when the "national master’s" film "Hero" burst onto the scene, that this promotional method began. In those early years, few in the industry used the term "roadshow." For most domestic films, it meant holding a premiere in each of the five biggest box office cities: the capital, Shanghai, Guangzhou, Shenzhen, and Chengdu.

Only major directors such as Zhang Yimou, Feng Xiaogang, or Chen Kaige would take their stars to additional cities for more premieres. The term "premiere tour" would, in fact, be more accurate than "roadshow."

It wasn’t until after 2010, when the domestic box office exploded, that these tours became much more common, eventually evolving into the city-by-city roadshows we see today.

Now, China Film had not arranged a premiere tour for the "Butterfly Effect" team, for the same reasons: the creative team's fame and standing simply weren’t sufficient. Besides, the marketing budget had already been stretched to its limit—so much so that it exceeded the film’s entire production cost.

All told, the production budget—including actors’ salaries, crew wages, special effects, props, and all other expenses—just topped three million yuan, with a precise figure of 3,019,252 yuan. Yet, to date, China Film’s marketing expenses had reached 5.53 million. Combined, these costs far surpassed Gu Zhi’s original estimate of a five-million-yuan budget.

With such a large-scale, high-profile promotional campaign, if the film still failed, Gu Zhi would likely find it difficult to secure investment or support from China Film—or, indeed, from the entire mainland film industry—in the future.

It was a do-or-die moment. Everything now depended on the film’s release.

Feng Xiaogang’s "A Sigh" had already begun its advance screening in six cinemas in the capital on the 20th. On the 26th, Gu Zhi saw a news item on New Wave Net’s film and entertainment section, reprinted from the Beijing Youth Daily:

"‘A Sigh’ Weekend Box Office Soars to 1.2 Million"

"Feng Xiaogang’s tragic drama ‘A Sigh’ is drawing crowds and generating intense social buzz. From its release on Wednesday through the weekend of the 24th, the box office has reached 1.2 million, bringing euphoria to the six cinema managers who won the advance premiere rights; hitting their sales targets is practically guaranteed."

Reading this news, Gu Zhi gained new respect for Feng Xiaogang’s box office appeal. Screening in just six cinemas in the capital, the film had brought in 1.2 million yuan in five days—a remarkable feat in a country whose economy was still in its infancy.

At this time, China's per capita GDP was only 7,941 yuan—meaning each person’s annual output was less than eight thousand yuan. Going to the movies was a relatively extravagant form of entertainment.

With the national release on the 28th approaching, Gu Zhi worried that "The Butterfly Effect" might not be able to compete with Feng Xiaogang’s box office draw.

From China Film, he learned that "The Butterfly Effect" would receive a 23% share of screenings—on par with "Mission Impossible 2," but slightly below the 34% given to "A Sigh."

All three films would screen for at least a month. Whether "The Butterfly Effect" and "A Sigh" continued to run afterward would be up to the decision of the theaters. At this time, relatively few films were released each year, so most films enjoyed long runs; as long as they brought in revenue, they would continue to be shown, unless the film prints wore out.

"Mission Impossible 2," as an imported film, was subject to contractual restrictions and box office revenue sharing, so its run could not be extended indefinitely. The theaters had no authority over the screening length of imported films; only China Film could decide, to ensure accurate box office accounting.

Besides these three blockbusters vying for dominance, a few other films—"Happy Times," "Congratulations," and "Emergency Landing"—would also be released, but the remaining screening slots would be allocated to these lesser titles.

Gu Zhi hadn’t even heard of these other films; they were sure to flop, posing no threat to the big three.

The entire Chinese film industry now waited in anticipation for the 28th, to see who would emerge victorious in this three-way battle.