Chapter 16: Roaming Without Boundaries
In fact, Xiao Ran had always focused all his energy on achieving success in his career, founding a film company to lead Hong Kong cinema and revive it. Yet he ultimately overlooked one very important thing: aside from his own advantages, he had nothing else.
To put it bluntly, Xiao Ran was being overly idealistic. He had just begun to make a name for himself in the film industry and still hadn’t gained any recognition—so how could he start a company? Moreover, since he didn’t even have a company yet, he was already imagining the future, which naturally left him confused.
Simply put, his goals were set too ambitiously, and at the moment, he lacked the conditions necessary to achieve them. This inevitably led to a huge disparity and a sense of disappointment. Just as one can’t become fat overnight, he needed to do other things to build up his capital.
Actually, when Xiao Ran first arrived in this era, his idea of becoming an actor or director was quite good—at least practical, not unrealistic. In this era, those who truly held power were either wealthy bosses, famous directors, or actors like the legendary comedy master Hsu Kuan-wen.
What was a mere screenwriter? Why should he start a company? Without money or power, how could he expect other actors and directors to support his ambitions? After realizing all this, Xiao Ran finally calmed his restless emotions.
What to do next? Xiao Ran had a rough plan. He wanted to excel as a screenwriter first and look for opportunities to become a director. Once he found investors, he could produce a truly outstanding film. This was his advantage—a formidable one. Of course, he could also act occasionally to satisfy his passion for acting.
Once he became a director, everything would become simpler. He just needed to keep making films, hitboxes, award-winning movies, build a reputation in the industry, and network with important people. Once his reputation reached a certain level, founding a company would become natural.
Where to start? Xiao Ran lay in bed, staring at the ceiling for a long time. Working at New Art City wasn’t impossible, but it focused mainly on comedies, leaving little room for growth. Xu Ke’s film studio seemed like a good option, but Xiao Ran knew Xu Ke was extremely domineering in filmmaking, and many directors and actors who had worked with him refused to collaborate again.
For example, the original director of “The Smiling, Proud Wanderer” was the masterful director Hu Jinquan. But after only half of the film was shot, Xu Ke’s interference as producer made Hu Jinquan leave the set in anger, refusing to continue. As a result, the final film was mostly completed by Xu Ke. Li Lianjie, who was promoted by Xu Ke, also refused to work with him later because of Xu Ke’s dictatorial style.
In fact, New Art City had a system that was unique in the world—the producer system! On set, it wasn’t the director who truly held authority but the producer. While it couldn’t be said that the director became a puppet, their room for maneuver was indeed limited.
Xiao Ran remembered that Huang Baiming, one of the three giants of New Art City, wrote a long article in the future to commemorate New Art City’s glorious decade. In that article, it was mentioned that during a filming session, a director repeatedly failed to follow the script, so the high-ranking officials at New Art City, in a fit of anger, immediately dismissed the director and assigned Lin Lingdong to take over.
Xiao Ran wasn’t a fool. Under such a production system, he knew full well that no matter how skilled he was, he couldn’t pull any tricks. He knew that many directors had suffered losses because of this.
As for whether he could build fame and capital before the 1990s, Xiao Ran knew these were not things he could worry about now. He should focus on how to reach higher and farther, rather than fantasizing about unattainable goals.
A week later, Xiao Ran contacted Wei Jiahui, who happened to be free, as he planned to visit TVB. Upon arriving at the TVB building, he quickly found Wei Jiahui working in his office. You Zhi was also there, eager to meet this friend he hadn’t seen in a long time.
“Where do you want to go?” Wei Jiahui asked Xiao Ran with a smile. “TVB building is quite big, and there are many production teams!”
Wei Jiahui’s office was indeed spacious, suggesting he was quite important at TVB. No wonder he hadn’t entered the film industry until the 1990s. As this thought crossed Xiao Ran’s mind, he almost frantically thought of an actor—a real actor!
Zhou Xingchi! The mere thought of him filled Xiao Ran with indescribable excitement. He was a genius actor and an excellent director as well. Having come to TVB’s building, Xiao Ran wouldn’t be satisfied unless he met him.
He was sure that if his memory wasn’t failing him, Zhou Xingchi was currently hosting a show on Channel 430—the very channel where Zhou Xingchi had been electrocuted in “Prank Experts” and forced to sing, “Fly high, fly high, little shuttle!”
But one must not underestimate children’s programs. Those who had hosted there included Lan Jieying, Leung Chao-wai, Zhu Ying, Zheng Yijian, and Zeng Huqian. These were all famous figures in their time or in the future. Of course, the most well-known were undoubtedly Zhou Xingchi and Leung Chao-wai.
“Can we go check out Channel 430 first?” Xiao Ran asked with a mysterious smile, making Wei Jiahui and You Zhi feel strange. Xiao Ran stepped forward eagerly before realizing he didn’t know the way. He laughed awkwardly and said, “Uh, you guys should lead the way!”
“Haha!” Wei Jiahui burst into laughter, and You Zhi also found Xiao Ran’s behavior amusing and joined in the laughter. After stopping laughing, Wei Jiahui finally asked, “Have you watched Channel 430? That’s unlikely—it’s a children’s program!”
As he spoke, Wei Jiahui glanced at Xiao Ran teasingly. Xiao Ran tapped his head in frustration, blaming himself for being too obvious. Wei Jiahui and You Zhi, still joking, led Xiao Ran to the third studio hall on the eighth floor. At that moment, the large studio was empty. Only then did Xiao Ran realize it wasn’t showtime.
“You really came to the right place this time!” Although Wei Jiahui did prefer movies, he still considered television his main focus. Now, he proudly introduced to Xiao Ran, “The most famous, best, and most representative television station in Wutai Mountain is undoubtedly TVB!”
“Wutai Mountain?” Xiao Ran had no idea how TVB could be connected to Wutai Mountain. He blinked and asked, “What do you mean?”
“Wutai Mountain refers to Radio Road!” You Zhi and Wei Jiahui grinned mischievously, mocking Xiao Ran for not even knowing this. “There are five television stations on Radio Road: Radio Hong Kong, Commercial Radio, TVB, Asia Television, and ATV, that’s why it’s called Wutai Mountain! I really doubt if you’re even from Hong Kong since you don’t even know Wutai Mountain!”
Xiao Ran could only laugh awkwardly, scratching his head with his right hand to hide his embarrassment. After teasing Xiao Ran, Wei Jiahui asked, “What brought you here?”
“I’m quite interested in the host of this program! So I came by to take a look!” Xiao Ran shrugged and said nonchalantly, “Since he’s not here, let’s just go somewhere else!”
“You want to see Xing Zai?” Wei Jiahui seemed to know Zhou Xingchi as well. After thinking for a moment, he said, “He should be at the Qingshuiwan film set right now. If you’re interested, you might as well go there later! Anyway, I have time today!”
After walking around a bit, they met a few people, but Xiao Ran couldn’t muster any enthusiasm. He hadn’t seen the person he wanted to meet at all, so how could he be excited? After touring the TVB building, they headed to Qingshuiwan together.
Although Qingshuiwan wasn’t as luxurious as Sai Kung, many wealthy people bought properties and villas there, and its seaside location offered beautiful scenery. Along the way, Wei Jiahui and You Zhi introduced Xiao Ran to the situation at the Qingshuiwan film set.
Qingshuiwan film set was one of the two major film sets in Hong Kong; the other was the Cathay Film Set on Ax Mountain Road. Unlike Cathay, Qingshuiwan had gradually become the main location for TV drama filming due to Shaw Brothers’ deliberate reduction in film investments over the years. Hearing this, Xiao Ran understood that it wasn’t called Television City anymore; it became TVB’s base after Shaw Brothers completely withdrew from the film industry in 1987.
Film shooting nowadays was different from the future. In the future, most films would rely on real locations. But currently, most films were shot in indoor sets or places like large film sets. In simple terms, the backgrounds in films from the 1980s were mostly artificial sets.
If we go back to the 1950s and 1960s, film shooting was even more interesting. Back then, filming was a very simple yet extremely difficult task. The simplicity lay in the extremely crude filming techniques and sets, so crude that it’s hard to imagine.
In those days, most movies were shot indoors, with a hand-painted backdrop serving as the set. Interestingly, if it took a week to shoot a movie back then, it was considered a major production. This was a world of difference compared to Hollywood, where filming could take a year or two. However, the difficulty lay precisely in the lack of various technologies and props, which made film shooting particularly challenging. Yet, despite such tough conditions, Hong Kong was still able to produce classic Cantonese movies that remain classic to this day, which is truly remarkable. After hearing Wei Jiahui and You Zhi’s explanations, Xiao Ran felt he had learned a lot. That said, his knowledge of the period before the 1980s was limited to Bruce Lee and the “Wong Fei-hung” series, which had over a hundred episodes. Of course, this Wong Fei-hung was not the one portrayed by Lee Lian-je, and that must not be misunderstood. Of course, a large set like Clear Water Bay wasn’t used only by Shaw Brothers. Some mid-sized film companies, lacking Shaw Brothers’ financial strength, couldn’t afford such a huge set, nor could they match smaller companies that didn’t pay much attention to sets. So, sometimes films were shot here, of course, at a certain rent. Entering the office building on the set, Wei Jiahui looked disappointed: “It’s a pity the company has decided to give up filmmaking now. It’s such a waste to use such a large space only for TV dramas!” Xiao Ran smiled slightly—it was inevitable. From what he knew of history, Shaw Brothers must have announced its withdrawal from the film industry in 1987, leaving behind a tripartite competition among Cathay, New Art City, and Deppa. Because, in every aspect, Shaw Brothers was not just technologically inferior to the other three companies; it also suffered from rigid systems, making competition impossible. But to say such a large set was being wasted was not the case. Xiao Ran knew that after announcing a one-year shutdown in 1988, Shaw Brothers Film Company merged with Television Broadcasts Limited (TVB) to form Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. However, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer didn’t make any major moves in the 1980s and didn’t start to outperform its rival Cathay until the early 1990s. (Names will be provided later.)