Chapter 37: I Am Almost Growing a Brain
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Fat Bing’s modest wish—to ambush Yanzi, International Zhang, and the others on the first day of Shark Beach’s release, just to see their reactions after watching it—never came true.
Through Wang Jinghua, she found out which cinema the group had gathered at.
But when she arrived, she did not dare get out of the nanny van, afraid of being surrounded by fans. Since she stayed inside, she never saw when those celebrities and industry people left.
They had all put on masks, sunglasses, and hats when they departed too!
What was more, from the moment Shark Beach began screening until the end of its first showing, Fat Bing’s phone had been so busy it nearly took off. She received countless text messages and could not reply to them all.
The calls came one after another. It was a complete explosion.
All she could do was hurry back to the hotel and have Wang Jinghua bring several assistants to help deal with everything.
……
December 24, a little after four in the morning.
Li Wenyu was jolted awake by a relentless barrage of calls. When he grabbed the phone and answered, he discovered that it was Leslie Cheung.
“Wenyu, we did it! We really did it!”
“The figures are out. Seven million Hong Kong dollars in Hong Kong over the first two days of the weekend, 5.1 million yuan in the mainland, and more than three million Hong Kong dollars in Taiwan. The Taiwanese box-office market has been in ruins for years.”
“Even Shaolin Soccer only made fifteen million by the end of its run. We pulled in three million in two days. It must have been the gimmick of Little Fan being named Asia’s number-one beauty in 2001 that drew people in.”
“Taiwan put forward Jiang Zulping and Bi Ting in the election, but both of them ranked in the fifties on the overseas edition. They were nowhere near the number-one beauty.”
During the eighties and the first half of the nineties, Taiwan had been the most important overseas market for Hong Kong films. But with the passing of time, it had long since entered an age of ruins.
Before Li Wenyu could respond, Leslie Cheung gulped down some water and continued, “You’ll never guess how much we sold in South Korea. Twenty-three point sixteen million Hong Kong dollars! And Japan brought in twenty-eight million!”
“We only sold the theatrical rights for twenty-eight million across East and Southeast Asia. We got slaughtered!”
It was perfectly normal for the box office in Japan and South Korea to surpass Hong Kong’s. Ticket prices differed from country to country. When Hero was released, tickets across the mainland ranged from twenty to thirty yuan.
In South Korea, a ticket cost six or seven US dollars, which came to more than fifty yuan at the exchange rate.
Tickets at Japanese cinemas were likewise far more expensive than those in the mainland.
The East and Southeast Asian rights had sold for twenty-eight million Hong Kong dollars, while Japan and South Korea alone had brought in more than fifty-one million over the opening weekend. By comparison, South Korea’s total attendance amounted to fewer than five hundred thousand people.
At the height of Hong Kong cinema, if one merely counted the number of viewers for good films starring Jet Li or Jackie Chan and multiplied it by the current ticket price of six or seven dollars, many of those films would have earned fifty or sixty million Hong Kong dollars, or more, in South Korea.
The only difference was that South Korean tickets had not been so expensive back then.
Take Jackie Chan’s Drunken Master. Counting only the attendance and multiplying it by six or seven dollars at an exchange rate of 7.8, it would have earned the equivalent of 130 million Hong Kong dollars in South Korea in 2001.
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What did the mainland’s 5.1 million yuan represent? It meant that two hundred thousand people had gone to the cinema over the weekend. Across the entire mainland, all the cinema chains and giant screens combined numbered only around 2,400.
Shark Beach was not receiving a hundred percent of the available screenings.
In the days ahead, some cinemas that had not yet shown Shark Beach would start screening it as well in order to sell tickets. At every one of those theaters, once taxes were deducted, the cinema chains would receive a far larger share of the box office than the production company.
More important than anything else was the fight against piracy. China Film Group, the major studios, Huayi, and the Xiang family were all taking action.
Someone had already called in a report. The informant was given a reward of one hundred thousand yuan, and the authorities raided a piracy operation, seized its stock, and arrested the people involved. The news was announced across the entire internet as a warning to others. It also told the whole country that reporting piracy could really earn you money.
Li Wenyu laughed. “The mainland is making more than 2.5 million a day. In two months, it’ll definitely break one hundred million. Brother Wing, we’ve just created our own one-hundred-million director’s club.”
The numbers were truly taking off.
Big Shot had been delayed until before the Spring Festival. That meant Shark Beach was the runner-up on the mainland’s 2001 box-office chart. No—that was wrong. Pearl Harbor was technically in first place, with 105 million yuan.
Shark Beach had a very good chance of taking the crown.
It was a popcorn blockbuster carried entirely by Bingbing alone. Forget comparing one woman against Old Feng, Uncle Ge, Rosamund Kwan, and an entire group of foreign stars—Shark Beach could even suppress Pearl Harbor.
Leslie Cheung took another drink of water. “When you were arranging the viral promotion and pushing the Asian beauty pageant, we all had a rough idea of what might happen. But now that we’ve reached this point…”
“It feels like a dream. I finished my concert last night and have slept only two hours since.”
Li Wenyu was speechless. “Your health matters. Go get some rest.”
After chatting for a few more minutes with the wildly excited Leslie Cheung, whose assistant and manager repeatedly urged him to rest, Li Wenyu finally ended the call.
He returned to Fat Bing’s side and went back to sleep.
All kinds of explosive news were still flying everywhere in this early age of internet communications. At the very least, distributors across East and Southeast Asia had paid twenty-eight million Hong Kong dollars for the theatrical rights.
The opening-weekend box office from Japan and South Korea alone had reached fifty-one million Hong Kong dollars, sending shock waves through every corner of China’s entertainment industry.
When the sun rose, Fat Bing woke and learned of the results. She let out a series of excited cries and charged at Old Li, only to end up foaming at the mouth.
This blockbuster marked the moment Fat Bing’s ability to carry a box office surpassed that of ordinary leading actresses.
The Four Dans and Two Bings? If the signature works of the other five were added together, could they possibly match Shark Beach’s worldwide box office by the end of its theatrical run?
……
On Christmas Eve, the twenty-fourth, many people in Hong Kong, South Korea, and other places had begun their long Christmas and New Year holiday—especially the foreigners.
Li Wenyu was eating a combined breakfast and lunch when he received word that Andy Lau, Joey Wong, and Cecilia Cheung had arrived.
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He went out into the corridor to meet them. After exchanging a few polite words, he asked curiously, “Brother Wah, weren’t you still filming Miracle Boy?”
Once this holiday ended, Fat Bing would also have to return to the set to continue filming. Of course, by then her scenes would be shot in concentrated blocks.
Andy Lau looked somewhat surprised. “Wenyu, in Japan, South Korea, Singapore, Malaysia, Thailand, and Taiwan, a lot of audiences bought tickets because they were curious about this new generation’s number-one beauty in Asia. They wanted to see just how beautiful Bingbing really was, right?”
Brother Wah was having trouble suppressing his guilty excitement. He felt thrilled.
He and Joey Wong had made cameo appearances in the beach sequence, contributing their own deaths to the film. He felt those deaths had been entirely worth it.
Li Wenyu nodded. “A lot of people did.”
Many others had been brainwashed by the numbers 12-22-08, while fans of Leslie Cheung, Andy Lau, and the others had also gone to show their support. Their fan bases were not limited to China.
Andy Lau glanced at Ah Zhi. “Bingbing is the number-one beauty, and Ah Zhi has the second-most beautiful face. They are playing the second and third female leads in my new film. Once we finish filming, we can ride Shark Beach’s momentum and take advantage of the beauty pageant rankings.”
“Will Miracle Boy also blow up?”
Before Li Wenyu could answer, Cecilia Cheung blinked her alluring eyes at him and acted cute. “Brother Yu, you have far too many paid online supporters. That’s not playing fair!”
“If it weren’t for giving Brother Wing some face, I would definitely be the number-one beauty. The Legend of Zu flopped, but there are still plenty of fans online who love its special effects. So many people say my appearances as Master Gu Yue and Li Yingqi were breathtaking.”
“Brother Yu, would you like me to dress up as Master Gu Yue for you?”
Li Wenyu was speechless.
Ah Zhi suddenly slapped her forehead and pulled out her phone. “I almost grew a brain there. Let’s talk by text. Not to criticize myself, but if you learned Cantonese from me, I could definitely teach you everyday conversation in ten days or half a month. I’m the best Cantonese teacher.”
Li Wenyu looked utterly helplessly at Brother Wah and Sister Yin.
Brother Wah covered his face and spoke in Mandarin. “It’s quite miraculous. Ah Zhi usually acts like a diva. Whenever I tell her, ‘Wenyu definitely hates that kind of personality—it’s like some little nightclub delinquent who got rich overnight, and you’re far worse than Bingbing,’ she immediately settles down and cooperates.”
“She hasn’t been going to nightclubs or going out lately either. She’s found someone to teach her Mandarin, and she even ignores handsome guys who ask her out. Is that sunk cost? Or is she simply refusing to lose?”
Just as Li Wenyu was momentarily at a loss, the text message Ah Zhi had composed arrived.
End of Chapter.