"Let us congratulate The Man from Earth on winning the Jury Special Prize at this year's Berlin Film Festival! Congratulations!"
As the host onstage made the announcement, the performers in the hall cheered and applauded, while quite a few people put on suitably astonished expressions.
But the core creative team seated among the audience was truly delighted. Shen Ranran tightly hugged Wang Yan's arm. "Brother Yan, we won! We won an award!"
Xin Baiqing stood beside them, clenching his fists and grinning foolishly, while the people from the film studio could not stop smiling.
The Jury Special Prize was basically one of those consolation awards. In terms of prestige alone, it really was not all that impressive.
But then again, of all the films selected for competition, not every one of them won an award, nor did every one receive consolation. And out of all the submitted works, only a small number had even made the shortlist.
Looking at it that way, even if it was a consolation prize, like being handed a small slice of pork, they had at least gotten some meat. With that title attached, the film was different.
Wang Yan went onstage to give a speech. In a fairly humorous manner, he talked about his path to becoming a director, briefly starting with his days selling grilled lamb skewers, and delivered a stand-up routine that lasted more than three minutes.
That was already rather long, and it became even longer after being translated and relayed. But the audience below responded very well, so the organizers did not hurry Wang Yan off the stage and let him finish speaking.
Wang Yan's purpose was simple: self-promotion. He wanted people to know that he had once farmed back home, then sold grilled lamb skewers on the streets, and only