Chapter 266: Another Battle in Cannes

In a large room within the Phantom Group—a place ordinary people couldn’t enter, referred to by its employees as the Hall of Glory—there were numerous trophies, not including those taken home by the film industry figures. The first trophy was for Zhang Wanding’s “A Fairy Tale in Autumn,” which won Phantom Group the Best Film award. It was displayed in the most prominent spot, as it marked the birth of the Phantom Empire. The Best Film award was a collective achievement and the only one Phantom Group could win.

There were also trophies donated by some film industry figures to Phantom Group; for example, Xiao Ran donated his first Golden Horse Award trophy. The room was filled with rows of trophies—several each for the Golden Horse and Golden Rooster Awards. Since 1987, Phantom Group had only missed three Golden Horse Best Drama Film awards and two Golden Rooster Best Film awards.

In addition to the Golden Horse and Golden Rooster Awards, there were also three awards from the Asia-Pacific Film Festival and one from the Tokyo International Film Festival. At the Berlin Film Festival, Phantom Group had won both the Golden Bear and Silver Bear awards, with Zhang Manyu, Lin Qingxia, and Fa Ge all receiving their trophies. Last year, “Farewell My Concubine” won the Palme d’Or. Roughly counted, there were no less than fourteen or fifteen awards in this Hall of Glory.

On a smooth wall, the records of every award won by Phantom Group’s films were clearly listed. Upon closer inspection, it became evident that over the years, Phantom Group’s films had won more than a hundred awards in total.

This time, as Xiao Ran headed to Cannes, would he be able to add more glory to this Hall of Glory? No one could predict it, not even Xiao Ran himself. In any case, his trip to France had sparked another wave of excitement across Hong Kong—everyone was eager to witness this talented billionaire’s outstanding performance once again.

It was clearly an interesting situation. Initially, Xiao Ran had gone to expand into the international market, but now he was doing it for himself, for his own glory. After all, Phantom Group no longer needed to expand—international markets had already been open to them.

The only thing that disappointed Xiao Ran was that France had introduced restrictions on imported films just before Cannes began. France was a key player in European cinema, and now Phantom Group had forced it to enact such regulations to protect its own films—a sign of its pride. Unfortunately, Xiao Ran wasn’t proud of this. As a result, Phantom Group could no longer release films in France without restrictions. The only good thing was that this affected not only Hong Kong films but also Hollywood films. However, this clearly wouldn’t have a significant impact on Hong Kong films—it was just local protectionism. Hong Kong films could still release a large number of films each year.

This time, Xiao Ran went to Cannes alone, arriving the day before the awards ceremony. Come on, with his wealth of millions per second, would he really waste time traveling to Cannes? In fact, accompanying him were the deputy general manager of a star management company and members of the planning department, who went there to recruit talent.

Interestingly, this year’s competition entries also included the cunningly crafted “To Live” and “Pulp Fiction.” Ironically, both films were produced by Phantom Entertainment. Of course, they were directed by Quentin himself, who was recruited by Phantom Entertainment two years ago. At the award ceremony, numerous famous stars appeared, and Xiao Ran casually greeted others before sitting down with Liu Qingyun and others, letting the event organizers and star agencies recruit more people. The awards ceremony was quite grand, but it might not be as impressive as the current Golden Horse Awards. At least in Asia, the Golden Horse Awards have gradually declined in influence, while the Golden Rooster Awards have added more categories such as Best Foreign Language Film and relaxed restrictions on foreign films competing for awards, thus transforming into Asia’s top commercial film award over the past few years. In terms of music awards, the music awards sponsored by Tianlai have also expanded their influence under the broader promotion of Phantom Entertainment’s media empire. This shows that Xiao Ran’s decision to pursue a path as a comprehensive entertainment media group was absolutely correct. Without Lin Qingxia by his side, Xiao Ran always felt as if something was missing. Glancing at Liu Qingyun, who was quite excited and his dark face almost glowing red, and Wu Zhenyu’s eyes filled with envy, Xiao Ran couldn’t help but laugh. Anyone who visits such a prestigious place for the first time must feel nervous. Just like himself back then, he was also extremely nervous with sweat in his palms. After reflecting for a while, Xiao Ran smiled lightly, only to suddenly see Director Murray, whom he had met here before. After greeting the director, Xiao Ran’s mood improved significantly. In fact, most of those at Cannes were somewhat unconventional celebrities who came just to go through the motions and increase their fame. Xiao Ran clearly didn’t have much fondness for these artists; at least he was too lazy to get to know them. “Don’t be nervous. It’s just Cannes,” Xiao Ran couldn’t help but reassure them. Seeing them look at him in surprise, he chuckled, “Winning an award at Cannes isn’t necessarily that difficult. I think it’s even harder to win at the Golden Horse Awards!” Before he could finish speaking, Xiao Ran sighed. With so many talented filmmakers emerging in Hong Kong these years, winning an award is extremely challenging. Take Xiao Ran’s “The Legend of the Racing God” for example—Xiao Ran created some filming techniques for racing or action movies in that film, which received excellent reviews, yet it only received a nomination and the award went to someone else. With so many geniuses emerging in Hong Kong’s film industry, Xiao Ran really didn’t know when he would be able to win Best Director and Best Film based on his own abilities. Only these two awards can truly prove a director’s skills. Relatively speaking, Xiao Ran valued Cannes mainly for its international reputation; he believed its significance for his own skills wasn’t as great as that of the Golden Horse Awards. While waiting, Zhang Yimou and Ge You arrived, along with that mischievous Quentin. Watching Zhang Yimou walk onto the stage, Xiao Ran smiled calmly. He no longer felt any aversion toward Zhang Yimou—perhaps he simply no longer felt anything at all.

However, Xiao Ran was truly very interested in Uncle Ge. He had always believed that there were only two best actors in China: Uncle Ge, and the other best actor was a combination of Jiang Wen and Chen Daoming. To this day, he still remembered Uncle Ge’s classic lines, “Be honest in life!” and “Uncle Li is very angry; the consequences will be serious.” When spoken by Uncle Ge, that humor carried a special flavor.

Xiao Ran waved at Zhang Yimou and Ge You. Zhang Yimou came over to Xiao Ran, wearing a seemingly honest smile, “President Xiao, I originally wanted to invite you to come as well. I didn’t expect you to arrive first!”

“Sit down, Mr. Ge. How do you feel being here?” Xiao Ran smiled at him before turning to look at Ge You sitting behind him. “Being able to come here means you’re a world-class figure. Now you’re famous!”

“No, President Xiao. Just call me Ge You. Or call me Old Ge!” Ge You actually had a bit of that screen presence about him. Seeing Xiao Ran treat him so warmly, he quickly joked self-deprecatingly, “Look at me. Calling me ‘sir’ doesn’t fit me at all!”

Xiao Ran suddenly remembered something. Ge You only became associated with Shadow Company after filming this movie, so he probably hadn’t signed a contract with them yet. It couldn’t be blamed on Xiao Ran for being careless. At his current position, the only things he needed to focus on were strategic matters; there were others to handle the details, so he couldn’t possibly know everything.

Just as they were about to talk, Zhang Yimou showed an envious expression and sighed, “If one could win an award here, that would mean becoming an international director! President Xiao, before you won an award here last time, I think Cannes hadn’t given an award to a Chinese person yet!”

Xiao Ran shook his head slightly. He really wasn’t sure about that. Ge You gave a smile with a strong Beijing accent and said, “That’s probably true. But with my appearance, no one would want me!”

Liu Qingyun and Wu Zhenyu found Ge You’s behavior of “ruining” himself extremely amusing. Especially Liu Qingyun, who laughed and said, “That’s not necessarily true. Do you know Wu Mengda? His appearance isn’t much better than yours, yet he’s a very popular actor in Hong Kong now, earning four or five million in fees. As for me, my appearance isn’t great either, but my fees are already ten million. If popularity counts, then I’m pretty famous too.”

“If it’s that easy to make money, maybe I should come work for you. After all, those who returned earlier said Hong Kong has an excellent environment!” Ge You’s smiling face made it hard to tell whether he was joking or serious.

Xiao Ran was of course delighted. He immediately gave a few instructions to Han Yun beside him, then said to Ge You with a smile, “Sure, no problem. I’ll find someone to sign a contract with you right away. We’ll assign you an agent, and you’ll become famous anytime. The key is that you’ll be in Hong Kong, able to make good movies, and make the movies you want to make!”

After chatting for a while longer, the award ceremony finally began. The first award presented was for technical excellence, given to “Extreme Fatigue.” Xiao Ran didn’t place much importance on this award. If he had agreed to submit movies like “The Legend of the Car God” back then, winning a technical award wouldn’t have been a problem at all.

The International Critics’ Week Award went to “The Clerk,” while the Critics’ Grand Prize was awarded to Wei Changqing’s “Corners of the City.” Wei Changqing is truly remarkable—a talented and hardworking director from the Chinese mainland. However, Xiao Ran believes Wei is more of an artistic director, so since “Léon: The Professional,” he has largely stopped working on commercial films.

“Corners of the City” is a film that focuses on the lower classes of society. Following the suggestions of his advisors, Wei expanded the story from Hong Kong to Europe, turning what was originally a region-specific film into an international one. In this film, Wei went quite extreme and highly stylized, which explains why it was well-received by critics.

There were quite a few awards at this year’s Cannes. Next was the Special Jury Prize, which went to “The Silence of the Palace.” Then came the Jury Prize. Xiao Ran glanced at Wei Jiahui, who was standing next to Ge You, and thought that “The Birth of a Character” was the most likely winner.

As expected, the guest on stage looked down at the audience, checked the list, and then announced loudly, “The winner of the 47th Cannes Film Festival Jury Prize is… ‘The Birth of a Character!’”

Wei Jiahui was so excited he almost jumped up, but fortunately, Xiao Ran’s gaze calmed him down. He never expected that his first film after returning from years of experience at a TV station could be shown at Cannes and even win an award. He was excited, and so was Xiao Ran. “The Birth of a Character” was one of his favorite films. Its structural approach predates internationally renowned films like “Sliding Doors” and “Run Lola Run.” It’s a real shame that this film didn’t receive more recognition.

Now that Hong Kong cinema is gaining global prominence, it’s almost impossible for Cannes to ignore Chinese-language films. As a result, Cannes established an office in Hong Kong years ahead of schedule to select entries, and it was under these circumstances that “The Birth of a Character” won this award. Sometimes, it’s not that films aren’t good enough, but rather issues related to the broader environment.

The Golden Camera Award went to “The Silent Palace.” Next was the Best Screenplay Award, which was awarded to “Extreme Fatigue.” Then came the Special Jury Prize—ironically, it was shared, with “To Live” and “Poison Sun” both winning.

The next award was Xiao Ran’s target. He believed his film “True Colors” was the most likely to win the Director’s Prize, as he thought its most commendable aspect was its unique perspective—a distinctive approach that would surely earn it many points.

The Director’s Prize! Xiao Ran took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He needed this award to prove he wasn’t just getting recognition for no reason. Although everyone considered him an international great director, he wanted to prove it to himself. Sometimes, the greatest challenges come from within.

“The films that made it to this competition are all outstanding, and as we can see, Chinese-language cinema is developing at an ever-increasing pace.” The guest was a French star who spoke in a humorous tone: “Of course, it’s undeniable that Chinese-language cinema is truly excellent—Hong Kong manages to produce countless great works for the world every year!”
“Those eligible to compete for this award this year are all highly talented. Of course, I’m also very eager to work with any of them!” At this point, the guest finally opened the envelope, a smile in his eyes, as he glanced toward Xiao Ran.
“I’m well aware that announcing the winner will be cruel for the losers…” The guest chuckled: “I’ve tried such cruelty before too, but as we know, competition inevitably brings winners and losers. So, the winner of the 47th Cannes Film Festival Director’s Prize is…”