“Here, the film utilizes misaligned lenses and asymmetrical compositions to enhance the audience’s sense of unease. Especially in dark corridors, dilapidated rooms, and other scenes, the camera often uses oblique angles, creating a visual tilt and instability….”
“The teacher frequently enhances the horror atmosphere in this film through tranquil shots and sudden edits.
Many scenes employ static shots, lingering for a long time on a certain detail or character’s face, tightly drawing the audience’s attention and creating a sense of oppression;
Following that, sudden camera shifts or ‘jump-cut’ editing breaks the silence, creating a shocking and startling effect….”
“……”
Throughout the entire film, Wu Chen almost completely deconstructed its cinematic language and photographic techniques, even eloquently explaining the coordination of sound effects, background music, and cinematography within the film.
At first, Pu Songri could still analyze a thing or two, but later he simply grabbed a notebook from the pile of sundries and began to take notes with full concentration.
Mu Deyuan, on the other hand, nodded repeatedly.
He hadn't expected Wu Chen to be able to deconstruct the film’s photographic artistry and shooting techniques so clearly after only watching it once.
“If I don’t let him try, I’m afraid I’ll be harming him.”
Mu Deyuan sighed inwardly, thinking that he had never seen such an outstanding talent in all these years.
Moreover, this was his last undergraduate class he would be teaching.
“What a pity!”
Wu Chen, at this moment, was lamenting about the film black mansion's ghost.
Although the picture quality was a bit poor and the costumes and props were simple, the abilities of the screenwriter and director were indeed formidable, turning adversity into magic.
Even though the 12 minutes cut in later generations removed some avant-garde dialogue and scenes, it still forged the pinnacle of mainland horror films.
It should be known that after Hero, Chinese cinema ushered in vigorous development, with various genre films blossoming, but only horror films stagnated due to strict regulation and insufficient creativity.
The “domestic horror films” shot in later generations were almost consistently of lower quality, with Douban ratings repeatedly hitting new lows, leaving only their promotional posters as the sole commendable aspect.
“Bring out your script, let me take a look.”
Mu Deyuan didn't hesitate and immediately said.
Upon hearing this, Wu Chen quickly handed the file he had placed aside to Mu Deyuan.
“the dark side?” Mu Deyuan took it, first glanced at the title on the cover, then opened it and began to read.
The three of them were silently.
Just then, a low “rumble” broke the silence.
Pu Songri’s stomach rumbled quite loudly.
“Oh no, I forgot to line up.” Pu Songri had originally tried to act as if nothing was wrong, but hunger brought him back to reality. “I guess there won’t be anything good left in the cafeteria today, so we’ll probably have to go out and buy something to eat again.”
Just then, Mu Deyuan suddenly closed the script. “I am hungry too, let’s go eat.”
“Teacher, won’t that be too much of an expense?” Although Wu Chen said this, he stood up without the slightest hesitation.
“You kid, do you still care about that?” Mu Deyuan said with a smile.
“Of course I care. If you’re taking us to eat abalone, sea cucumber, shark fin, and maw, then…”
Wu Chen deliberately paused, then grinned, “Then we really haven’t eaten that before, have we, Songri!”
“Can my salary withstand you eating like this?”
Mu Deyuan laughed and scolded, then tidied up the projector and other items, and left with Wu Chen and Pu Songri.
......
The cold wind was biting as the three walked out of the teachers’ dormitory building and turned to a corner where an old hotpot restaurant was located.
The restaurant wasn’t large, with an old wooden sign hanging above its entrance, bearing the characters “Old Beijing Lamb Hotpot.” Although the writing was a bit faded, anyone passing by could always catch the familiar aroma of lamb.
This was also the lamb hotpot restaurant most favored by Beijing Film Academy students.
“Hello, Teacher!”
“Hello, Director Mu!”
“……”
Apparently, many Beijing Film Academy students had also come out for a meal.
The bell at the door rang, and as the three entered, a rush of warmth enveloped them.
The air inside the restaurant was filled with the enticing aromas of lamb, spices, and a tempting spicy-numb flavor, whetting one’s appetite.
“Are there still private rooms available?” Mu Deyuan, clearly a regular, asked directly.
“Yes, one just opened up.” The proprietress greeted them warmly, smiling as she led the three into a relatively secluded private room.
The private room wasn't large; its old wooden walls were adorned with some old black and white photographs. Some depicted Qing Dynasty-style hutong scenes, while others showed Beijing’s appearance in the 1950s and 60s, making it feel as if time had condensed there for a long while.
The hotpot on the table was already boiling, steaming profusely.
“Come, don’t be shy.” Mu Deyuan said, casually hanging his coat on a nearby chair, and immediately started eating.
Wu Chen truly wasn't shy. He put lamb slices into the hotpot, then casually picked up a piece of lamb bone from the soup and took a bite: “We really can’t get such an authentic taste where we are!”
“Mmm, delicious!” Pu Songri silently became a diligent eater.
“By the way, Wu Chen, I heard you say last time that your family runs a factory?” Mu Deyuan suddenly asked.
Wu Chen was also stunned for a moment, then reacted, “Yes, we have a small factory in Foshan, Guangfu, making leather shoes.”
“Chen Ge, a rich second generation!” Pu Songri teased.
“Come on, rich second generation? Factory second generation is more accurate. Let me tell you, at our small factory, back when I had summer vacation, I still had to work there. Among the employees, I worked the hardest. I was even more useful than the donkey in the production team!”
“Hahaha!”
With Wu Chen enlivening the atmosphere, everyone laughed.
“I just read the beginning of the script; I haven’t finished it yet, but from what I’ve read so far, it’s well-written!”
Hearing Mu Deyuan talk about the script, Wu Chen also listened attentively.
“But do you two know what’s most important in filmmaking?”
“Uh, it should be money, right?” Pu Songri asked uncertainly.
After hearing Pu Songri’s answer, Mu Deyuan’s gaze turned to Wu Chen.
Wu Chen was silent for a moment, gently put down his chopsticks, looked up, glanced around, and slowly said, “It’s ‘truth’.”
“Truth?” Mu Deyuan seemed a bit surprised; he hadn't expected Wu Chen to give such an answer.
“Yes, truth.” Wu Chen’s tone was firm. “No matter what type of film you’re making, no matter how big a commercial production or how niche an art film, the most important thing is to be real.
Real emotions, real performances, real characters, a real world. When the audience can feel that truth, the film has a soul and can move people.”
Wu Chen paused, seemingly pondering a deeper meaning, then continued, “Money is indeed important, but it’s just a tool. It ultimately allows the film to be made so that it can convey the desired content. And content is the core of a film.”
Mu Deyuan was silent for a moment, then chuckled softly: “That’s quite philosophical. Film is indeed the art of storytelling, but without genuine emotion, no matter how good the script or how much money, you can’t create a work that touches people’s hearts.”
Pu Songri frowned, somewhat puzzled: “Chen Ge, so making a film means making it ‘true’?”
Wu Chen smiled: “Yes, ‘truth’ is making the audience believe from the bottom of their hearts that everything happening in the film is real.
Look at those classic works; which one isn’t a clash of real emotions? Which one doesn’t make you empathize through truthful portrayal?”
Mu Deyuan nodded, then laughed wryly, “So, you kid, were you planning on me from beginning to end, and never even considered the money issue?”
