Chapter 115: A Hilarious Recap of Failures?

Although cinema is a vibrant and profoundly sacred art form, in Japan the barrier to making a film is not particularly high. Talent agencies, eager to bolster the resumes of promising newcomers, often employ other novices. Having a portfolio, even a modest one, always seems more reliable than none at all. Agencies might invest a few million yen themselves, commission a television station or film production company to create a movie with questionable plot and special effects, and arrange screenings in fewer than fifty theaters.

Even if the final box office barely reaches a hundred thousand yen, from the moment the film premieres, its mission is considered fulfilled.

Beyond newcomer-pushing agencies, there are even eccentric religious groups—whose erratic behavior once indirectly led to the disbandment of Blue Heart and the successive poaching of two rising actresses—who occasionally self-finance films, then have their followers book entire theaters to watch them. Likewise, some actors and comedians dabble in film investment, though most of these films flop spectacularly, leaving their investors burdened with huge debts.

Against such a backdrop, Ye Zhao’s desire to produce a film is hardly unrealistic. However, a considerable number of people—or perhaps the vast majority—would think he’s lost his mind after his sudden rise to fame.

This sentiment became apparent at the subsequent film press conference.

After negotiating with NTV, securing their technical, promotional, and filming location support, Ye Zhao entrusted Takeshi Takeda to send invitations to various TV stations and media outlets for the press conference.

Ye Zhao himself did not appear at the event. As his representative, Takeda succinctly explained, “The reason we invited you here today is to announce that ZYE Productions, the company Ye Zhao belongs to, will be investing in a film. NTV will provide collaboration, and the director will be Yukihiko Tsutsumi.”

Having obtained film production credentials, the original ZYE agency upgraded to ZYE Productions, transitioning from a modest agency to a genuine entertainment company—small but complete.

The announcement caused a stir in the room. The surprise was twofold: some were puzzled that Ye Zhao, flourishing as a popular singer, would abandon that path to make a movie; others sighed with a sense of “oh, it’s that guy again.”

Had Ye Zhao announced plans to team up with a comedian or actor for a single, interest in the room might have been higher. After all, there is precedent for such success: the single by Tetsuya Komuro and Masatoshi Hamada sold over 1.5 million copies and was expected to reach two million soon. The duo even announced a second single release for July 19, vowing to continue their playful collaboration. Given Ye Zhao’s current achievements in music, if he had followed suit, no one would doubt his ability to craft a hit song.

But to make a movie? Sorry, every year countless confident individuals hold press conferences announcing their upcoming cinematic masterpieces, only for their proud expressions to become punchlines in later failure retrospectives.

From this perspective, Ye Zhao’s absence from the press conference seemed quite prudent. Many journalists harbored a hint of malice in their thoughts.

At that moment, someone finally remembered the director Yukihiko Tsutsumi sitting nearby and brought the microphone to him. Questions poured forth: “Tsutsumi-san, what is your view on this collaboration?” “Do you have any expectations for this film?”

Sensing the subtle atmosphere in the room, Tsutsumi calmly took the microphone and said, “Although I cannot reveal many details yet, after reading the script, I immediately decided that I must direct this film, no matter what. So, I am very confident about this collaboration.”

Though Tsutsumi’s fame was not yet widespread, he was a serious director with credits to his name. His words slightly shook some journalists’ earlier mockery of the project, but most still regarded his remarks as mere polite business flattery, not to be taken seriously.

The press conference—from Takeda’s announcement about Ye Zhao’s film plans to the final question—lasted only sixteen minutes. Afterwards, ZYE and NTV staff handed out gifts to the attending journalists. Sweetening the media's tongues with such tokens is a necessary ritual worldwide, whether in small studios or major corporations.

Though these journalists might not necessarily praise you after taking the bribes, neglecting this customary courtesy almost guarantees that they’ll throw a wrench in your plans when you least expect it.

...

“Next, please enjoy ‘Blue Rabbit’ and feel Noriko’s charm,” the host announced. A gentle, beautiful prelude played softly from the car’s radio.

“Noriko-chan is truly perfect—not only does she shine as an actress, but her singing is so adorable,” Yuuki Uemura said, eyes fixed on the road as he drove, admiration clear in his voice.

The drama *Star’s Coin*, starring Noriko Sakai, was set to air its final episode that night. Starting with only a 7.2% viewership, this series had steadily climbed in popularity thanks to good word of mouth. Predictions suggested the finale’s ratings would exceed 20%. Having portrayed the pure and ethereal deaf-mute girl Aya Kuramoto, Noriko Sakai successfully broke through her career slump and became the ideal woman in the hearts of countless men.

Besides *Star’s Coin*, another drama related to the deaf community, *Tell Me You Love Me*, starring Takako Tokiwa and Etsushi Toyokawa, had aired just five days earlier on July 7. Thanks to these two dramas, Japan was currently experiencing an unprecedented boom in learning sign language.

“If only she could stay this cute forever,” Ye Zhao said casually.

“She definitely will, because it’s Noriko-chan!” Uemura replied confidently. “By the way, this song was written by Oda-san, right? It’s a totally different style from Being’s usual sound.”

“That’s because the arrangement style changed,” Ye Zhao answered. Free from Being’s influence, Tetsurō Oda’s music had taken on a new vitality. Yet, as Oda drifted further from Being, the once-glorious Being dynasty began to show cracks signaling its impending collapse.

Just then, the car stopped in front of Being’s headquarters.

Ye Zhao was there to inform Daikichi Nagato about his plan to shoot *I Heard Kirishima Is Quitting the Club*.

Although his contract was only for music, it would be unreasonable for Nagato to learn of such a significant project from the news and then be caught off guard with questions. Moreover, Ye Zhao intended to include the film’s theme song, “The Sun Will Rise Again,” penned by Yu Takahashi, in his upcoming album.

Though the film was only in its initial planning stages and far from production or release.

“Notifying” and “consulting” are two very different things, and Daikichi Nagato was well aware of this. He refrained from offering unnecessary opinions, politely offering encouragement and inquiring about the progress of Ye Zhao’s new single. Upon learning that everything was proceeding smoothly, he let the matter drop.