Chapter 61: Four Nominations

“You mean we’ve been invited to attend the Fourth Hong Kong Film Awards?” Yan Xu looked at Bald Qiang with a touch of surprise.

The Hong Kong Film Awards would later become one of the most important accolades across Hong Kong, Taiwan, and Mainland China. Established in 1982, it was jointly hosted by Film Weekly and Hong Kong Radio. Its purpose was to recognize outstanding filmmakers through selection and award ceremonies, to review the achievements of films from the past year, and to raise both the quality of Hong Kong cinema and the standards of its creators and audience.

Although only three editions had been held so far, the awards were already regarded within the industry as authoritative. Countless filmmakers hoped to leave their mark upon its stage. Even a nomination could greatly enhance a studio’s reputation in the industry, and the film could earn handsomely in the video and Southeast Asian markets. After all, many theater agents from Taiwan, Japan, Korea, and Southeast Asia kept a keen eye on the festival.

“Not only have we been invited,” Bald Qiang said excitedly, “You’ve been nominated for Best Newcomer for ‘The Butcher in the Rainy Night,’ and Best Screenwriter for ‘Taxi Judge.’ Besides these two, Wu Mengda was nominated for Best Actor for ‘Taxi Judge,’ and the song performed by Zhou Huimin was nominated for Best Original Film Song.”

“Two films, four nominations!” Yan Xu murmured. For him, this was tremendous joy, enough to secure his footing in the film industry. And two of the nominations belonged to him, with the Best Newcomer nod being a complete surprise. He hadn’t expected such recognition.

Of course, Yan Xu wasn’t confident about winning. He glanced at the nomination list handed to him by Bald Qiang. The film with the most nominations was ‘Flowing Years,’ a collaboration between Hong Kong and Mainland China.

Though Yan Xu hadn’t seen it, he remembered that ‘Flowing Years’ swept the Hong Kong Film Awards and made Si Qin Gaowa the first mainland actress to win Best Actress in Hong Kong after her triumph at the Golden Rooster and Hundred Flowers Awards. The film boasted a formidable crew: cinematographer Pan Hengsheng, art director Zhang Shuping, composer Kitaro, and the Hong Kong New Wave stalwart Yan Hao—each a master in their field.

Other strong contenders included ‘Waiting for Dawn,’ ‘Police Story: Provincial and Hong Kong Riders,’ ‘The Civil Servant,’ and ‘Shanghai Nights.’ None were easy competition. This year’s Hong Kong Film Awards would be far more fiercely contested than the previous three.

Among these films, Yan Xu regarded ‘Police Story: Provincial and Hong Kong Riders’ most highly. It ranked second among the Top Ten Films of the Eighties and sixth in the Awards’ Fifty Best Films.

The film vividly portrayed the gap in economic and social development between Hong Kong and the mainland during that era. It broke away from the typical clichés of crime movies, abandoning illusions about reality and humanity. Its action sequences were brisk and energetic, offering audiences a thrilling visual feast.

In Yan Xu’s eyes, this film was the perfect blend of art and commerce. Not only did it reflect deep social issues, it also delivered intense excitement to viewers.

‘Waiting for Dawn’ and ‘The Civil Servant’ were also impressive, but one carried a melancholic tone and the other was somewhat conventional, lacking the excitement of ‘Police Story: Provincial and Hong Kong Riders.’ ‘Shanghai Nights’ had the committee’s recommendation, but romance musicals were never Yan Xu’s preference. As for ‘Flowing Years,’ it was pure art house fare—something he would pass over.

“What do you think? Isn’t this wonderful news?” Bald Qiang asked, watching Yan Xu.

“We still don’t know if we’ll win. With so many excellent films this year, I can’t be sure,” Yan Xu replied, shaking his head.

“Just being nominated is already great. With these nominations, the films should perform well at the box office when released elsewhere,” Bald Qiang said, sighing. “If we had waited for the nomination before selling ‘The Butcher in the Rainy Night’ abroad, the overseas box office could easily have doubled.”

“But we still have ‘Taxi Judge.’ How are the negotiations going?” Yan Xu inquired.

‘Taxi Judge’ had yet to be released abroad. Riding the wave of the nominations, it would surely rake in profits.

“The revenue split is nearly settled. Japan and Korea, thirty-eight percent; Taiwan, forty percent; Southeast Asia, forty-five percent. Those are very high rates,” Bald Qiang said with delight. “But Taiwan wants the key creators to cooperate with the publicity. When it premieres, I hope you’ll take Zhou Huimin and Wu Mengda along for a trip.”

“That’s no problem. Supporting the publicity is only right,” Yan Xu nodded.

In the era he came from, trips to Taiwan were already allowed, but he’d never had the funds or the time. Now, with the expenses covered, he wouldn’t miss this chance.

Though Zhou Huimin and Wu Mengda had packed schedules, their contracts required them to participate in post-release publicity, so other work would have to wait.

“There’s something else I have for you!” Seeing Yan Xu agree, Bald Qiang pulled a finely packaged box from the drawer and placed it before him.

“What is it?”

Yan Xu picked up the long box. It was somewhat heavy. As he tore off the wrapping, he asked.

“It’s a new product—the second-generation pure white model. The company’s made money, and the executives each get one.”

As Bald Qiang spoke, Yan Xu finished unwrapping the package. The box’s outer layer immediately caught his eye.

“It’s actually a mobile phone.” He stared at the device, as big as a brick, though it was the new white model. To Yan Xu, it was a veritable giant.

Having gotten used to sleek, compact candy-bar and flip phones, holding such a hefty device felt strange. The mobile phones of this era only made and received calls.

For Yan Xu, it couldn’t connect to the internet, send messages, read novels, play games, or take selfies—it was primitive in every way. That was why, despite having money, he’d never bought one. Its limited functions were far out of proportion to its exorbitant price. From his future perspective, it was simply a waste.

Of course, lacking a phone was inconvenient. Now that Yan Xu had established himself in the industry, the social contacts and engagements were unavoidable. He’d planned to buy one in a few days, but now he wouldn’t need to.

“What do you think? Not bad, right? Your number’s already set up,” Bald Qiang pointed out, producing a sheet of paper. “Here are my number and Ji Mao’s—write them down.” At this point, mobile phones didn’t have the convenient storage features of later models, so phone numbers had to be recorded in a phone book.