Chapter Ninety-Seven: Everything Has to Go Through a Selection
Yes, the radio drama Ye Zhao planned to make was *Crying Out Love in the Center of the World*.
Japan's domestic film market was generally very conservative, which was clear from the long list of production committee members attached to any film. Beyond that, the market as a whole favored works that already had a popular foundation, and pure originals without an existing source were never viewed favorably.
This lack of faith came not only from investors and producers but also showed quite strongly at the box office. In the world Ye Zhao had experienced, *Crying Out Love in the Center of the World* had achieved a box office miracle of 8.5 billion yen, but what had made that miracle possible was the original novel that had sold a shocking one million copies, later pushing on to three million, as well as TBS's relentless promotion and the simultaneous strategy of producing both a TV drama and a film.
It was precisely because of this that, although Ye Zhao had written the screenplay for *Crying Out Love in the Center of the World* long ago, he had never listed it as his first filming target. After all, making that film would require no small amount of investment and carry too great a risk.
If he forced it through, it would be like playing poker and throwing a small joker when the other side had only played a six.
But once the screenplay existed, looking at the result he had put so much effort into producing, the thought of leaving it at home for his own amusement felt like a waste, even to Ye Zhao. It was around that time that the idea of making a radio drama appeared in his mind.
For this idea, he had to thank the TV drama *The Kindaichi Case Files*. First, the original manga of that drama had in fact been created by a screenwriter writing the script first and then handing it to a manga artist to draw, rather than the manga artist conceiving the entire thing from start to finish.
As for the second point, when he attended the Kindaichi meeting a second time and was chatting warmly with Tsutsumi Yukihiko, he suddenly remembered a film Tsutsumi had directed in 2003 called *Heavenly Forest*. After that original-script film was released, a writer named Ichikawa Takuji, deeply moved by the film, obtained permission and wrote a novel based on it titled *Heavenly Forest: Another Story*.
Later, in 2006, that novel was adapted once again into the film *Heavenly Forest*, starring Tamaki Hiroshi and Miyazaki Aoi.
Though Ye Zhao could not write an original novel in the authentic spirit, he could still toss out a brick to attract jade, handing the pen to someone else. And for testing the waters, nothing was more suitable than a low-cost radio drama. If the radio drama could make a splash, he could then learn from what happened with *Heavenly Forest* and pick suitable writers for novel adaptations.
...
Radio drama had a long history in Japan and enjoyed a considerable audience, so doing one was hardly anything avant-garde. Popular radio dramas would even have CDs released after their broadcast ended. The actors providing voices for radio dramas were mostly professional radio drama actors affiliated with the broadcasting stations, though voice actors, regular actors, and idols also took part.
The script format was easy to read, and *Crying Out Love in the Center of the World* was not an obscure story to begin with, so Takeda Jun turned the pages quickly and had already read around ten pages before long.
It was only when Takeda Jun raised his head again that Ye Zhao asked, "What do you think, Takeda-san?"
"If you ask me about structure or dialogue, I certainly couldn't say anything, but after every page, I wanted to keep reading the next," Takeda Jun said. "From that perspective, it's a good story."
"In that case?"
"Well, a radio drama script of this level should be enough. I'll help ask around at the broadcasting station afterward," Takeda Jun relented. "I never imagined you could write scripts just as properly, Ye-kun."
"If I didn't have some confidence, I wouldn't dare bring up the plan," Ye Zhao said with a smile. "This should put your mind a little more at ease about my film project too, Takeda-san?"
"Film is film, radio drama is radio drama—they can't be lumped together. Wait until you produce a film script, then we'll discuss that," Takeda Jun was entirely unswayed by Ye Zhao's maneuver. "As for the radio drama script, my saying it's good doesn't count for anything. We'll have to wait until the people at the radio broadcasting station have read it. Still, which station do you intend to work with, Ye Zhao-san?"
...
"What about TBS RADIO? Is that possible?" Even setting aside the fact that in the history Ye Zhao had experienced, the film, drama, and radio drama of *Crying Out Love in the Center of the World* were all produced by TBS, the mere fact that TBS RADIO was the highest-rated radio broadcasting station in the Kanto region was enough to make one's heart stir.
Takeda Jun gave a wry smile. "Ye Zhao-san, that probably won't work, right? TBS RADIO's time slots are extremely competitive. Even if we barely managed to get one, the threshold fee and contract payment would be a hefty sum."
"That's true." Ye Zhao nodded, calculating. "NHK, being a state-run station, has too high a bar, so that won't work either. TOKYO FM's range is too small... Takeda-san, could we negotiate with Bunka Hoso?"
"Well, we can give it a try."
"All right, then let's prioritize Bunka Hoso. If they refuse, we'll consider the others."
...
What were the benefits of opening an office? Name them right, and they're yours.
For Ye Zhao, the greatest benefit of opening an office was, of course, saving time, effort, and worry. Apart from the key parts that required his personal involvement, everything else could be handed over to his staff to run quickly and efficiently. After all, he was a man who aspired to carve out his own circle in the Japanese entertainment industry—if he had to run every errand himself, that would be far too shabby.
And so, after handing over the script, Ye Zhao played the role of the hands-off boss, entrusting everything to Takeda Jun, who dealt with Bunka Hoso's production staff in preliminary negotiations.
Since Ye Zhao had accepted Bunka Hoso's radio program invitation, he was now, so to speak, half one of their own, and combined with the buzz his name carried on its own, when Takeda Jun delivered the script, the person in charge, Kaga Masataka, though doubtful, took the script and prepared to read it patiently.
However, when he opened it, just like Takeda Jun upon first reading it, he was drawn in and read more than ten pages before reluctantly closing the booklet.
"Did Ye Zhao-san really write this?" Kaga Masataka was half convinced, half suspicious.
"Of course," Takeda Jun replied immediately, though in his heart he thought that his own first reaction upon reading the script had been exactly the same.
Kaga Masataka sighed with admiration. "I never would have imagined."
Radio dramas were mostly adaptations of existing works. Such adaptations might be radio dramas spun off after the original was a great success, or they might be a way to test the waters and build momentum for works that had not yet gained much popularity. In any case, because radio dramas were low in cost, they had rather turned into a good method of promotion.
That said, original radio drama scripts also existed, just with a slightly lower starting point. Of course, that slightly lower portion was quickly made up for once the work bore Ye Zhao's name.
...
"So Bunka Hoso agreed to collaborate?"
"Yes. But lately there hasn't been any suitable time slot. Only a program airing Friday mornings from three to five is being taken off the air."
"That time slot is terrible. This radio drama's audience skews toward young people, not old folks who get up early to listen to health broadcasts."
"If we wait until October, when the old and new program lineups change over, we'll have more options."
"October..." Ye Zhao thought it over, then decided: "October, then." After all, the radio drama was only to test the waters, so a slightly later time did not matter. His main energy for the time being still had to go into preparing his new album.
"As for the radio drama production, which theatrical troupe would you like to entrust it to, Ye Zhao?"
"Well, why trouble two masters with one matter? Let's just leave it to the voice-acting troupe that works closely with Bunka Hoso." Ye Zhao thought for a moment. "However, when it comes to the casting of the male and female leads, I have a slightly different idea."
"A different idea?" Takeda Jun's brow twitched.
Sure enough, Ye Zhao said slowly, "Takeda-san, let's hold an audition too."
"An audition?"
"Exactly, exactly. Through a selection process, we'll pick the voice actors for the leads' younger days from ordinary boys and girls. The production cycle for a radio drama is a bit long, so a large-scale audition isn't realistic. Since Bunka Hoso's broadcast area covers the Kanto region, let's send out audition notices targeting the Kanto area."
"As for age, the male and female leads are set at seventeen, so let's loosen it a little and make it fifteen to nineteen." Speaking of which, Ye Zhao suddenly thought, "But if we're using minors, given the restrictions on minors' working hours, we'd have to choose an earlier time slot... For a radio drama, if it's recorded in advance, it would completely defeat the purpose."
The so-called restrictions on minors' working hours referred to Japanese law stipulating that entertainers under fourteen could not work past eight in the evening, and entertainers aged fifteen to eighteen could not work past ten. If a violation was discovered, it would turn into a very serious situation. This was why all late-night programs featuring underage entertainers were recorded in advance.
Even at an occasion like the Kōhaku Uta Gassen, the performance slots for minors were moved to before nine o'clock. For certain groups that performed as a unit, such as AKB, if their performance slot was in the latter half, the underage members had to leave the stage.
These restrictions on minors' working hours were a rule that no matter how famous a star was, could not be broken. Perhaps in places hidden from the camera, child actors might be squeezed until midnight, but as long as they went on air live, this rule had to be followed, and TV stations and talent agencies would not risk violating it in defiance of public opinion. After all, even if the TV stations turned a blind eye, viewer complaints and the legendary civilian review association—that stick in the mud—would blow up the complaint hotline at the first opportunity.
"Ye Zhao-san, I have the feeling you're about to stir up trouble again," Takeda Jun said, looking troubled.
"What does it matter? I'm not holding an audition just for fun. It's just that waiting from now until October is too long a period, and rather than letting the time go to waste, it's better to make some noise—consider it publicity for the radio drama."
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