Chapter 48 Uprooting the Hong Kong Entertainment Circle

Meanwhile, countless people were following the blog post published by "See You on Monday."

Even the bustling noise in the comment section came to a complete halt.

[As everyone well knows, currently there are two mainland Chinese actors universally recognized as having international influence: Jackie Chan and Jet Li.]

[The former ventured into Hollywood three times, cementing his status as an international superstar with Rush Hour.]

[The latter started out playing villains on a baseline salary, successfully gaining a firm foothold through R-rated films.]

[However, a certain self- boasting international movie star who loves to gild the lily had quite a different run. He entered Hollywood with his very first film as the male lead, and what was the result?]

[The Replacement Killers—flopped. The Corruptor—flopped. Anna and the King—flopped. Three consecutive box office failures! If Jet Li hadn't had to decline Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon because his wife was pregnant, allowing this person to pick up the leftovers, he probably never would have had a chance to return to Hollywood in his lifetime.]

[Then came his second foray into Hollywood, which was yet another massive failure. Dragonball Evolution, released this March, bombed spectacularly. Can this really be called an international superstar? Box office poison seems much more accurate.]

[A word of advice to investors lacking deep pockets: proceed with caution. His salary is denominated in US dollars, and his financial losses are also denominated in US dollars. Investors without deep pockets simply cannot afford him.]

No names were explicitly mentioned, yet every single line and word pointed clearly to one person—Fatty.

That is brutally ruthless.

That was the only thought in everyone's mind as they read this.

The domestic entertainment industry and the Hong Kong-Taiwan sector had only recently integrated, to say nothing of distant Hollywood. People had long assumed that simply visiting Hollywood meant one's market value instantly multiplied.

As the male lead of multiple Hollywood films, Fat Gor must undoubtedly be an international superstar, right?

Yet, this blog post by "See You on Monday" laid the cold, hard data right out in the open.

An actor whose box office records were a continuous string of failures, an actor discarded by Hollywood, was showered with extravagant praise back in China. Was this normal?

The crucial point was that when your actual talent fell short, you still demanded Hollywood-level pay when making mainland films, treating the investors like gullible fools to be fleeced.

Much like the emperor's new clothes, before it was exposed, everyone pretended nothing was wrong.

But once the truth was laid bare, it triggered an immediate collapse of trust.

Were Hong Kong filmmakers truly box office gold?

Could it be that... we were being conned all along?

Meanwhile, at an exclusive high-end banquet...

Uncle Benshan was discussing plans for a new film with Chairman Han of China Film Group.

"I'm planning to make a wuxia film—not the intensely violent kind, but a comedy. I'm currently leaning toward Taiwanese director Chu Yen-ping. The budget will be around thirty million. Is China Film interested in taking a stake?" Uncle Benshan asked.

"In US dollars?" Han Sanping countered.

"Renminbi. There aren't any grand battle scenes," Uncle Benshan replied.

"That's doable. Once the script is finalized, we can discuss it further. In any case, a modest investment like that can easily be pooled together by a few studios," Han Sanping said casually.

His heart was set on producing grand Chinese blockbusters, so medium- and small-scale productions didn't catch his eye.

As they spoke, Han's assistant trotted over, whispered a few words into his ear, and handed him a mobile phone.

Han Sanping glanced at it for a few moments, then chuckled. "Benshan, you might want to switch directors for that new film of yours. I reckon filmmakers from Hong Kong and Taiwan won't be too eager to collaborate with Benshan Media anymore."

Though he was smiling, his eyes carefully scanned the article on the screen.

Rarely did anyone dissect the mainland-bound Hong Kong and Taiwanese filmmakers with such meticulous detail.

People had previously just looked at their backgrounds and subconsciously assumed they possessed boundless experience and capability.

Yet, once you stripped away that halo of Hong Kong and Taiwan filmmakers in this article, what remained was simply a bunch of profit-driven businessmen.

After all, the mainland's cultural environment had historically bestowed a lofty status upon literary and artistic figures, and those artists strove to live up to that distinction as best they could.

One could see this clearly from how Tang Guoqiang, once dismissed as a pretty-boy idol, relentlessly honed his craft through middle age to become a legendary Zhuge Liang.

When stripped down to the bone, however, the literary and artistic figures of Hong Kong and Taiwan were merely hired actors.

Indeed, the genuinely noble individuals among them struggled to survive in that kind of environment.

Hearing the altered tone in Han's voice, Uncle Benshan turned it over in his mind and quickly guessed the answer. He slapped his thigh and exclaimed, "Did that disciple of mine stir up trouble again?"

"You can't really call it stirring up trouble. It's more like putting certain people back where they belong, and making a few bloated individuals realize their actual weight," Han Sanping said in a deep voice.

The people dragged out and put in the firing line were well-known two-faced opportunists within the industry.

While they possessed a certain commercial clout, they were ultimately inconsequential to the higher-ups. More importantly, these people were indeed restless, so taking this opportunity to give them a wake-up call was a good thing.

"So that means the kid did a pretty decent job. I'll still have to have a word with him later, though—even when you do a brilliant job, you must remain humble and guard against complacency."

Uncle Benshan jumped right into character. Although he hadn't read the article yet, he knew his disciple's temperament all too well.

For something to draw this much attention from Han Sanping, it had to be a bombshell.

It was bound to step heavily on the sore toes of the Hong Kong and Taiwan clique.

At this thought, he couldn't help but bare his teeth in a wry smile. As a master, he always tried to keep an ultra-low profile out there, but this fellow acted just like the Monkey King, seemingly wishing he could punch a hole right through the sky.

"You really are fiercely protective of your own. Don't worry, as long as your disciple stands on solid ground, no matter how loudly those people cry, nothing will happen to him. But you do need to talk to him. Once or twice is one thing, but he still needs to keep the bigger picture and overall impact in mind," Han Sanping hinted delicately.

It was simple: harmony would always remain the overarching theme across both sides.

"Alright, I'll definitely give him a talking-to when I get back. Let me see what he wrote, too."

Uncle Benshan took the phone from Han Sanping's hand. As soon as he saw the title, his heart skipped a beat, and as he read the anatomical deconstruction of Chow Yun-fat, the corners of his eyes twitched twice.

And the kid hadn't stopped there—moving from Wong Jing to Peter Chan and John Woo.

Almost every currently arrogant figure in the Hong Kong and Taiwan circles had been thoroughly critiqued.

[Red Cliff was such a magnificent epic masterpiece, yet it was directed into something resembling 'Mengmeng, Stand Up.' A galaxy of stars from both sides of the strait and Hong Kong surrounded them like moon and stars, all just to prop up Lin Chiling. The screenwriter Liu Wei must deeply regret attaching his name to this, but cashing in on garbage money isn't shameful.]

[As for The Warlords, only the investors lost money, while everyone in the entire crew, including Peter Chan, walked away with bulging pockets.]

[Wong Jing—the decline of Hong Kong cinema is inextricably linked to him. If Hong Kong films hadn't plummeted past the bottom line and fleeced Taiwanese businessmen, the Hong Kong market wouldn't have ended up in this state.]

Reading this, Uncle Benshan couldn't even bear to keep going. No wonder this minor mess could alarm someone like Han Sanping.

Stripping away their fig leaf was one thing.

The article had exposed every single scheme they used to rake in money in the mainland, right down to the tactics of using mainland stars to elevate their own newcomers.

From now on, whether it was audiences or investors, seeing a lineup of Hong Kong and Taiwanese filmmakers would no longer evoke blind obedience.

This article was equivalent to uprooting the entire foundation of the Hong Kong film circle.

"Cough, cough. The article written by this 'See You on Monday' is truly sharp. I suggest we contact this blog and have it shut down immediately. Think of how much this damages the feelings between us and our peers in Hong Kong and Taiwan," Uncle Benshan said righteously.

Han Sanping found it genuinely amusing. Who didn't know that this "See You on Monday" was inseparable from his disciple?

Still, putting aside personal biases, experiencing things behind a layer of pretense versus seeing them completely bare were indeed two entirely different psychological experiences.

He couldn't help feeling a bit curious about how the Hong Kong and Taiwan factions would react.

Meanwhile, standing outside the entrance of Liaoning Television after finishing the article, the Hong Kong reporters felt a chilly draft sweep straight from the soles of their feet up to their crowns.

Xu Ming was right. They really did get to see fireworks.

It was just that the fuel for these fireworks happened to be the entire Hong Kong film industry.