Going Toe-to-Toe

Because his performance in that previous opera scene had been so stunning, it had immediately raised Director Fang's standards. He had been eagerly anticipating Lu Heng's next brilliant performance. But the moment they ran through the scene, Fang Kaizhi's teeth started itching—

Compared with Lu Heng's practically professional-level opera foundation, his dramatic acting was like the difference between a century-old vintage and cooking oil.

Director Fang could not withstand such a drastic contrast. He scratched his head and said, "Xiao Heng, you had a great feel during the audition! Look at your Cen Qiubai—free-spirited, unrestrained, loyal to the end. You were so immersed in the role. Why is it now...?"

It was not as though Lu Heng's portrayal of Han Lusheng was particularly bad. After all, he had more than a decade of acting experience behind him.

Director Fang simply felt that Lu Heng's performance could be more precise and nuanced. He was clearly an uncut jade, and it had to be polished into something that felt utterly natural.

Lu Heng was a little embarrassed too. As the country's most famous kung fu superstar, his acting naturally could not compare to the exquisite subtlety of arthouse actors. In his previous life, he had mostly played tough, heroic martial arts roles. Even when he studied acting, he had always studied it from the angle of hard-hitting action.

Everyone had their own acting style. For example, if you asked Linghu Chong to play Dongfang Bubai, that obviously would not work!

Zhao Miao had been watching from the sidelines for quite a while and summed it up concisely. "It's too greasy. You've got the effeminate vibe down, but there's no heart in it."

Lu Heng nodded in agreement without thinking. "Right. I'm used to putting my kidneys into it. I don't like putting my heart into it."

What Lu Heng meant was that most of the roles he had played in his previous life had been adrenaline-fueled works that attracted audiences with martial arts, gunfights, and explosions. He had rarely filmed this sort of slow-burn literary drama. Yet he failed to notice that the moment he said that, everyone on the crew looked over at him with meaningful expressions.

Chapter 17: Going Toe-to-Toe

Generally, after a production began filming, there would be an assistant director in charge of call sheets. Their main task was to break down the revised script into scenes—printing the dialogue according to the A4, small-four font format, then following the director's requirements to divide each day's material into however many pages were needed and prepare the call sheet.

The call sheet would list the period setting, dramatic or action scenes, filming locations, shooting order, episode number, scene number, day or night shots, interior or exterior, filming content, cast list, makeup times, and props that needed to be prepared, among other things. All actors planned their schedules according to the call sheet.

Barring any surprises, the assistant director responsible for preparing the call sheet would generally group a particular actor's scenes together for filming. For example, if they shot three pages in the morning, two in the afternoon, and another page at night, the assistant director would take that into account when arranging scenes. Unless the plot required otherwise, they would try to schedule everyone's scenes as tightly as possible.

But there were special circumstances too. For instance, if an actor had offended a big shot on the crew, or if the director arranging the call sheet simply disliked an actor and wanted to make things difficult, they would schedule that actor's scenes far apart. Say they gave you the first scene and the last scene of the day—with both daytime and nighttime shoots included, you would spend over ten hours stuck around the set waiting for your scenes!

So early the next morning, when Zhao Miao and Lu Heng went downstairs to eat and saw on the call sheet posted in the hotel lobby that Lu Heng had been assigned the first and last scenes of the day, Zhao Miao's first reaction was, "Did you offend Director Chen?"

Director Chen was the assistant director responsible for preparing the call sheets. He was in his thirties, dark and chubby, with a perpetually cheerful smile, and he was known for being easy to get along with on set.

Lu Heng shook his head suspiciously. Zhao Miao also felt that someone with Lu Heng's personality was unlikely to offend anyone. After thinking about it for a long time without figuring it out, he simply slung an arm around Lu Heng's shoulders and said, "Forget it. We'll ask when we get to the set after breakfast."

Breakfast was a hotel buffet: milk, bread, soy milk, fried dough sticks, rice porridge, steamed buns, tea eggs, and all kinds of cold mixed side dishes. Lu Heng and Zhao Miao grabbed a quick bite, then headed for the set right on time when it was nearly time to go.

The first scene to be filmed that day was still the one where young Han Lusheng's older brother and sister-in-law discussed selling him to a male brothel. They had gone through more than ten NGs the previous afternoon without achieving the effect Director Fang wanted, and Lu Heng had instead derailed things with a bunch of absurd arguments. Director Fang had clearly locked horns with Lu Heng over it.

Director Chen, who was in charge of arranging the call sheet, was afraid Lu Heng might misunderstand. When Lu Heng arrived at the set to get his makeup done, he specially came over to explain, "Director Fang told me to write the call sheet that way. He also said that starting today, all your scenes would be arranged like this every day. Even when you don't have scenes, you have to come to the set and wait. Watch how the other actors perform."

The dark, chubby Director Chen paused here, then could not help advising, "Being an actor means acting in front of the camera. If you can only act yourself, that's nothing. But if you can bring the character in the script to life, now that's this."

Director Chen gave a thumbs-up, then continued, "Xiao Heng, you've got talent, and you're lucky too. Our Director Fang is famous in the industry for knowing how to train people. Just look at how many Best Actors and Best Actresses he's made—you'll understand. Director Fang is strict with you because he thinks you're a good kid with potential, a fine piece of jade. You'll definitely become famous someday, or he wouldn't bother putting in this effort. I'm telling you, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. So many big names in the industry couldn't get it even if they begged. Don't misunderstand Director Fang's good intentions."

Lu Heng smiled faintly. He understood Director Chen's kindness. Since he was getting makeup done, he did not dare make any large movements and could only blink at Director Chen as he said, "Don't worry, Brother Chen. I understand."

Director Chen chuckled, took a bottle of yogurt from his pocket, and placed it on the makeup table. He winked at Lu Heng before leaving.

Lu Heng smiled. Director Chen was treating him like a child who needed coaxing.

Given Director Fang's relentless insistence on getting it right, Lu Heng's first scene that day still fell short of expectations. But Fang Kaizhi was not in a hurry. Seeing that it was about time, he called a halt to the scene, and everyone proceeded with filming the second scene as scheduled.

It was a scene between the grown Han Lusheng and his senior brother Cen Qiubai. It was also male lead Yue Sennan's first scene after joining the production.

After being "seriously ill" for two days, Yue Sennan had finally recovered enough to report to the set early that morning. Once his makeup was done, he sat in his folding lounge chair reading the script. Although he had drawn some criticism in the way he conducted himself, Yue Sennan had reached his current position in the industry for reasons worthy of respect and praise.