The movie continued.
After “getting some air” outside for three hours, Lu Zhiyao returned to his capsule to continue his monotonous day-to-day life.
The beginning used considerable time to describe some details of future life, such as relief meals, expensive snacks, variety shows with betting opportunities, and so on.
Lu Zhiyao’s performance in this segment was just right. He was simply one of the most destitute, controlled by these simple emotions of joy, anger, and sorrow.
When he earned money from TV shows, he would celebrate happily;
When he lost all his money on a bet, he would rage impotently;
Sometimes he would feel empty and desperate, lying motionless in his capsule;
Sometimes he would look at those tempting advertisements and the high-society life in distant skyscrapers with intense envy.
Various advertisements played on television programs, and although they appeared only as background, they were still filmed with great care.
Lin Ruyi made her appearance, gradually established a romantic relationship with the protagonist, and then proposed the idea of participating in a talent show…
…
Pei Qian was all too familiar with the plot that followed, as he had written the entire plot outline himself and had already seen the rough cut of the video.
However, as he watched, he couldn’t help but become immersed in it, his emotions completely led by the film.
Excellent editing made the length of each plot segment just right, leaving enough space for reflection while quickly transitioning the audience’s emotions to the next part of the story.
The actors’ superb performances perfectly presented vivid character images on the big screen, creating extremely strong emotional resonance with the audience.
The excellent background music well sets the mood, guiding the audience’s emotions to be highly consistent with those in the film.
The delicate props and expensive external special effects gave the entire film a unique sci-fi quality, creating a sense of detachment from the real world while simultaneously providing a wonderful sense of reality, as if the film presented a real future world…
This was the magic of visual media.
A simple plot outline was ultimately pale and powerless, but once visualized and made into a film, it would be infused with numerous details while stimulating multiple senses through audiovisual means, giving people a completely new experience.
These details were so perfect that even the advertisements in the film didn’t feel out of place at all. They made many of the ambiguous ads seem quite interesting!
Pei Qian mechanically stuffed popcorn into his mouth, with only one thought in his mind.
Is this the script I wrote???
The story outline was indeed similar to what he had written, but what was filmed was completely different from what he had imagined!
The first half of the plot didn’t reveal much, but after the midpoint, the entire story suddenly took a sharp turn, baring its ferocious fangs!
When Lin Ruyi came clean to Lu Zhiyao in this scene, a collective gasp was heard throughout the cinema.
Many viewers were shocked by this plot twist and found it difficult to accept for a moment.
But the scene of outraged cursing that Pei Qian had imagined didn’t materialize.
Instead, everyone watched even more intently!
Even Pei Qian himself didn’t feel any anger or sense of being poisoned; he was just shocked and anticipating how the plot would develop.
Then he realized there was a major problem here.
This wasn’t right—why didn’t he feel angry when he saw this scene?
Shouldn’t this be extremely toxic content?
Stuffing another handful of popcorn into his mouth, Pei Qian tried hard to analyze why he felt this way.
It seemed to be because the film created a unique sense of detachment.
In the opening segment, the film spent considerable time depicting the protagonist’s daily life, including eating fast food, watching exciting TV programs, and aimlessly wandering the streets at midnight.
However, this didn’t deepen the audience’s sense of immersion. Instead, it completely separated their perspective, turning them into completely unrelated observers.
During filming, the camera gave the feeling of surveillance, coldly and emotionlessly overlooking the protagonist’s life in this world.
The sweetness of the romance between the male and female leads was diluted, and naturally, the pain of their breakup was also diluted. This approach allowed viewers to feel the protagonist’s emotional fluctuations, yet it was as if through a layer of glass, not triggering too intense emotional waves in their hearts.
Pei Qian suddenly realized he might have made a mistake.
Film is a form of artistic expression, but the same script given to different directors can result in completely different works!
This is because during the filmmaking process, directors constantly add their own “personal touches”—filming techniques, various details in the film, the rhythm of storytelling…
All these would affect how audiences perceive a story.
Some seemingly very boring scripts, after being filmed by directors with strong personal styles, become classics in film history for this very reason!
Zhu Xiaocai’s understanding of this story was completely different from Pei Qian’s original intention…
And the director obviously filmed according to his own understanding, so after editing and post-production, the entire film had completely deviated from what Pei Qian originally wanted to express.
The original “toxicity” had been largely neutralized, replaced by a kind of heartfelt compassion.
What the female lead did was very despicable, but viewers couldn’t bring themselves to hate her.
The male protagonist was clearly miserable and foolish, but the audience’s emotions toward him were reduced to a faint sympathy, lamenting his misfortune and resenting his lack of fight.
And when the male protagonist finally acquired enormous wealth and seemed to become an upper-class person, viewers weren’t happy for him. Instead, they could feel that he had lost himself.
The audience’s perception of the male protagonist instantly became unfamiliar. They could feel that in the vortex of materialism and money, he had completely lost himself.
Wealth didn’t make him superior; instead, it controlled his life, turning him into a pitiful creature.
Finally, the protagonist played by Lu Zhiyao was schemed against by the judge played by Zhang Zuting, ruined and heavily in debt, lying on the bed like a living corpse.
Meanwhile, on the big screen, the woman selected by the judge to replace him was doing almost the same things he had done before. The story seemed to have entered a hopeless cycle…
The screen went black.
The film ended there.
The end credits song played, with a voice conveying a unique mournfulness and desolation.
This was originally the song sung by the female lead played by Lin Ruyi during her talent show audition, which had been savagely mocked and ridiculed by the judges who said she was tone-deaf. It hadn’t left a deep impression on the audience at that time.
However, when played at the end, the song’s style seemed to have undergone some slight changes. When compared with the earlier version, it added a meaning that was difficult to articulate.
Pei Qian looked at the audience in the theater.
What’s going on? Wasn’t this ending toxic enough?
Shouldn’t you all be standing up and shouting for refunds now?
Or at least making some sounds like “tsk” or “what the hell is this”?
Yet the entire theater remained quiet. No one stood up, and no one made a sound.
A segment of the cast and crew credits rolled.
Pei Qian found his name placed first in the screenwriting team, on a separate line, with “Special Thanks” written beside it.
This provided no comfort to Mr. Pei, who felt a chill in his heart.
The first easter egg showed the judge played by Zhang Zuting, leisurely enjoying his vacation in his mansion, gently swirling a glass of red wine, the dark red liquid reflecting the judge’s face.
The woman sitting opposite him was heavily made up—it was the host who had replaced the protagonist after his downfall, promoted by the judge.
However, suddenly, police sirens sounded outside. Amid chaos, the woman stood up anxiously and walked out, while the judge rose in panic, dropping his wine glass, which shattered on the floor.
After some time, the judge didn’t return.
But the female host who had looked very panicked earlier returned to her seat, poured some red wine into another intact glass, and drank it all at once.
The final shot lingered on her charming red lips, the corners of her mouth curling slightly into a meaningful smile.
Another segment of the cast and crew credits rolled.
The second easter egg was still in the male protagonist’s capsule.
The protagonist’s posture, sprawled on the floor, hadn’t changed, but his now-long hair and beard, along with the weathered wrinkles on his face, suggested that a considerable amount of time had passed.
Suddenly, a commotion came from outside, and alarms sounded.
With a “bang,” the capsule door was forced open. Someone seemed to have thrown something inside, then turned and left.
Muffled angry roars could still be heard from outside, suggesting a violent conflict had erupted between the destitute and those maintaining order.
The male protagonist dazedly approached the door and found a blood-stained gun.
…
With a “click,” the cinema lights came on.
Many viewers seemed to wake from a dream and stood up one after another.
There were no complaints or angry shouts from the audience. Instead, everyone fell silent, as if they hadn’t completely broken free from the emotions brought by the film.
Some were discussing in low voices.
“This film is amazing… Was this made by a domestic director?”
“Yes, the imagination, the plot twist—I’m stunned!”
“For some reason, I feel a bit heavy-hearted after watching it…”
“It’s quite good as a drama.”
“I feel the plot is quite profound. I didn’t fully understand many parts. I’ll wait for the reviews.”
“I have to say, Lu Zhiyao’s acting in this film was really good, surprisingly not awkward at all!”
The couple sitting next to Pei Qian also stood up and followed the crowd out.
“It wasn’t the romance film I imagined, but it was unexpectedly good.”
“Yes, I think the film is hinting that we should cherish what we have. Honey, we must treat each other well.”
“This film is moving. I was crying so much,” the girl said, wiping her tears with a tissue.
She turned her head slightly to look at the seat beside her, then said in a low voice: “Look, that guy was also moved to tears.”
In his seat, Pei Qian silently stuffed popcorn into his mouth, tears streaming down his face.
It’s over, this film is finished!
What are these audience reviews?
“Worth the ticket price”?
“Quite good”?
“Profound plot”?
“Looking forward to reviews”?
What’s going on here?
These audience members have completely misunderstood!
I was just trying to feed you poison!
“Burp.”
Pei Qian cried and burped.
He seemed to have eaten too much popcorn…
