Chapter 36: Filming Budget

Yindu Studios was established in 1982 through the merger of Great Wall, Phoenix, and Xinlian Companies—it was a company that truly strived to invest in film production. The Hong Kong film industry was theoretically aware of Yindu’s background, but Xiao Ran had never heard anyone mention it before.
“There must be a way to utilize it… definitely…” Xiao Ran even forgot to drink, constantly pounding his head. He was thinking that Yindu’s funds undoubtedly came from the mainland. Twenty years later, there had been an unconfirmed rumor suggesting that the merger of Great Wall, Phoenix, and Xinlian was orchestrated by high-ranking mainland officials. The purpose was control—well, not exactly control, but rather to balance the unfair atmosphere in Hong Kong toward the mainland and to secure certain benefits. In short, Yindu was likely established largely due to political factors.
Although Yindu probably existed because of political reasons, its financial strength was undoubtedly substantial. In Xiao Ran’s memory, many of the films produced by Yindu were politically related or artistic in nature, yet they didn’t perform well at the box office. Yet, in such an environment, the company managed to survive into the 21st century, producing hundreds of films over two decades—a clear indication of its financial power. If he could get this company’s support… Xiao Ran couldn’t help but smirk at the thought.
Of course, daydreaming wasn’t Xiao Ran’s style. With such an ambitious goal, he needed to decide carefully on how to proceed. As he pondered, a hand slapped his shoulder hard, startling him almost to his feet. Turning around, he saw Zhou Xingchi, with Leung Chao-wai by his side. Xiao Ran quickly stood up to invite them to sit, then looked at them with confusion. Leung Chao-wai, being perceptive, immediately understood Xiao Ran’s intent and explained, “Mr. Xiao, Xingzi said you were treating us. I’ve admired you for some time now. I didn’t get the chance to meet you at the Golden Horse Awards last time, so I just showed up uninvited!”
So that’s how it is! Xiao Ran nodded inwardly. Meeting Leung Chao-wai wasn’t a bad thing. He smiled slightly and said, “I’d be delighted. I’ve wanted to meet you for a while too!” Suddenly, Xiao Ran felt his smile resembled Leung Chao-wai’s calm smile from twenty years later. Could it be plagiarism again?
Leung Chao-wai, unaware that Xiao Ran was actually a “despicable smile plagiarist,” also laughed, revealing his white teeth, about to speak when his gaze fell outside the door and he froze. Xiao Ran followed his gaze and saw Liu Hua standing outside.
Liu Hua seemed reluctant, hesitating for a long time before entering. As soon as he sat down, Leung Chao-wai became awkward, and Liu Hua’s expression was also unpleasant. Though it wasn’t like he was meeting an enemy, his attitude was quite cold. The atmosphere was clearly not good. Xiao Ran didn’t know what grudge Liu Hua and Leung Chao-wai had. But since he had brought them together, it would be pointless if things continued awkwardly. Suddenly, an idea struck him—he remembered what had happened between the two of them.

The conflict originated from their contracts with TVB. The Five Tigers had originally agreed to reject their contracts together, but unexpectedly, only Leung Chau-wai backed out at the last minute, making him the target of resentment from the other four. Liu Wa was especially sidelined, which only made the situation more infuriating in comparison.

Now that he understood the cause, Xiao Ran was confident he could resolve this issue. He knew that a year or two later, Zeng Zhi-wei invested in producing “The Five Tigers: Rift,” thus settling matters with TVB’s Five Tigers. After some thought, he finally spoke to Liu Wa, saying, “Wa-zi, you really don’t need to worry. As long as you can get through this tough time, you’ll definitely become famous. I’m sure of it!”

Before Liu Wa could react, Xiao Ran smiled and turned to Leung Chau-wai, saying, “Wai-zi, staying with TVB is actually a wise decision! You two have your own paths; there’s no need to follow the same one.”

Liu Wa and Leung Chau-wai were confused by Xiao Ran’s words and couldn’t figure out what he meant. Seeing their expressions, Xiao Ran secretly chuckled and said, “Wa-zi, Wai-zi, I don’t know what you’re thinking. But friends are friends—even if what they do isn’t understandable at the moment, they’re still friends. What do you think?”

Gradually, the two began to understand. Zhou Xingchi also grasped something and watched Xiao Ran with great interest. Xiao Ran laughed heartily, waving his hand to show his magnanimity, “Hong Kong is such a small place. Do you have to be awkward and speechless every time you meet? Or do you want to be enemies for life?”

Leung Chau-wai moved his lips as if wanting to say something but ultimately stayed silent. Xiao Ran guessed he was too proud to admit defeat and laughed, “I really can’t deal with you two. It’s just a small matter—why must it lead to mutual hatred? Wai-zi, though we just met, it shouldn’t be hard to say sorry.”

Leung Chau-wai stared at Xiao Ran, his expression implying, “Go ahead and say it.” Xiao Ran ignored him and smiled at Liu Wa, saying, “Everyone has their own way. Just as you chose not to sign a contract, Wai-zi can also choose to sign. Since you’re his friend, you should understand that. If you said anything harsh, it’s time to apologize now.”

“Sorry!” Liu Wa and Leung Chau-wai awkwardly reached out their hands to each other. Seeing the other do the same, they burst into laughter, and the previous misunderstanding was quickly resolved.

Actually, the two had long wanted to reconcile, but they were young and stubborn, too proud to admit fault. After Xiao Ran’s long speech, they took the opportunity to make up. Xiao Ran, unaware of their thoughts, was still proud, thinking it was all hiscredit.

Seeing them reconciled, Xiao Ran was overjoyed and couldn’t help but say boldly, “Let’s build a career together!”

This naturally led the three of them to agree, after which Xiao Ran mentioned his intention to become a director. Their expressions varied—Liu Hua looked deep in thought, while Leung Chao-wei was surprised. Zhou Xingchi’s face and eyes were filled with envy, which surprised Xiao Ran greatly; he hadn’t expected Zhou Xingchi to already have the idea of becoming a director.

Congratulations followed, and after chatting for a while and having dinner, Xiao Ran comforted Liu Hua before they all parted ways. Only Zhou Xingchi asked Xiao Ran before leaving if he could get a role in a film. Xiao Ran replied, “Xingzi, what you need to do now is wait for an opportunity—a chance to become famous overnight, not wait for such a minor role. You need to hone your acting skills and be confident that you can win an award; only then will it open the door for you. I give you a choice: either I give you a role and waste your chance at winning the Best Newcomer award, or you endure a little longer. If your career still shows no progress in a year, it doesn’t matter what I ask of you!”

Next, bored, Xiao Ran went to the cinema to watch a film titled “Zombies Rise Again.” Its poor production quality only deepened his feelings of melancholy. Yet, he still had nothing at the moment and was powerless to help Hong Kong cinema.

A few days later, Huang Bai-ming told Xiao Ran to come to the company. Overjoyed, Xiao Ran went to the company and met Huang Bai-ming, only to find two other unfamiliar people in his office. Huang Bai-ming introduced them, and Xiao Ran then learned that the middle-aged man, Bi Jing-sheng, would be the producer of “Eight Stars Bring Good News,” while the much younger woman, Lu Jia-zhen, would be the film planner.

“Mr. Xiao, we’ve calculated the budget for this film!” Bi Jing-sheng explained the budget in detail: “The total salary for the lead actor is 1.3 million, plus another 300,000 for supporting actors and extras. The main crew members will be paid 500,000, and the other staff 300,000, depending mainly on the progress of filming.”

“The total budget is 4.8 million. After deducting 2.4 million for salaries, half remains for actual filming and post-production, which should be sufficient.” Bi Jing-sheng spoke as if giving a report, extremely formal—perfect for being a producer. “Of course, if filming exceeds the budget, the company has the right to replace you or stop shooting.”

“As for equipment, you can ask Miss Lu; she’s in charge of preliminary preparations!” With that, Bi Jing-sheng went and sat down on a chair.

Miss Lu wasn’t as “cold” as Bi Jing-sheng. She smiled at Xiao Ran, nodded, then picked up the documents and introduced them: “Normally, the film stock ratio shouldn’t exceed 5:1. But since you’re directing for the first time, we can give you 10,000 feet more film—this is already a big concession. Of course, cameras are essential for filming. We’ve prepared six cameras for you, which should be enough. As for mobile tracks and other filming equipment, everything is ready, and shooting can start at any time!”

Xiao Ran was sweating profusely! A 5:1 film ratio! He had heard before that Hong Kong filmmakers made extremely high use of film, but he never imagined it would be this extreme. In Hollywood, the film ratio would never be lower than this, sometimes even reaching 10:1 or more. A 5:1 ratio meant that out of 50,000 feet of film, only 10,000 feet could be used, resulting in an extremely low waste rate.

Miss Lu seemed to remember something suddenly, exclaiming “Oh my!” with an apologetic expression. She added, “Also, the script, when filmed seriously, is only about 90 minutes long. So I had someone add some more scenes—hope you don’t mind.”

Xiao Ran nodded, saying it was fine. This was within his expectations; even the budget figure was pretty much what he had calculated earlier. Of course, Xiao Ran didn’t think he still had 2.4 million at his disposal. After all, 60,000 feet of film also cost money, and renting equipment did too. Basically, there wasn’t much money left to use before shooting began.

Still, Xiao Ran didn’t think filming this movie would require too much money. It was just a family comedy, so the demands and expenses in all aspects weren’t high. The budget was mainly spent on actors’ salaries, which was the advantage of comedies. That’s why, during the decline of Hong Kong cinema, film companies seemed to have lost their judgment and kept making shoddy comedies.

Huang Baiming clapped his hands and smiled, raising his chin. “Ah Ran, are you satisfied with all this? I’ve really done my best as a friend. You must not mess this up, or I won’t be able to explain to Boss Lei!”

Xiao Ran thought to himself that he had risked five successful scripts to get this opportunity, so he certainly wasn’t feeling grateful. But he really couldn’t help but thank Huang Baiming for all the preparations he had made. With these preparations, what he needed to do became much simpler.

“As for the actors, Fa Zai’s schedule is manageable, but Zhong Chuhong’s schedule is hard to adjust. However, she said since this is your first time directing, she must find time to come!” Huang Baiming’s face clearly showed envy—envy he couldn’t have. Xiao Ran’s appearance was already appealing, and his healthy, tanned skin gave him an air of reliability and honesty, naturally winning the genuine affection of the celebrities.

(I’m screaming loudly! Lin JJ is definitely with the protagonist. As for others, I’m not sure yet. One thing’s for sure—Fang Ruoxin is definitely not involved. Get it? Please stop torturing me! I just made a mistake—can’t I fix it? 55555… Also, since the novel is so extensive, there might be omissions and inconsistencies. Please point them out. I’ll definitely address everyone’s criticism.)

(Finally, I’m racing to the top of the rankings. Clicks, recommendations, bookmarks—none can be missed. Please help me, save me!)