Therefore, under the condition that they could not disturb the residents too much, they needed to make the best use of all the time they had to complete the short film shooting plan, which did not have much time.
As soon as he arrived at the set, he was asked to be a strong man.
The assistant director, who was in charge of the extras and the other main actors, walked up to Qin Guan with a smile.
"How are you feeling, Qin Guan? Are you tired after returning to China? Your scenes have to wait. If you have time, why don't you tell these actors about it first? "
He was not like Director Zhang, who dared shout in front of the unknown double Best Actor Award winner. Although Qin Guan did not have any outstanding films in China, he was still a famous actor.
There were too few people who could win the Best Actor Award overseas, and of those who did, which one of them wasn't praised to the heavens in the domestic film industry?
Although the young man had not been smelted in a domestic furnace, he was still a golden boy in the eyes of investors.
Naturally, his attitude was very amiable and even a little cautious.
Qin Guan, who was easy to please, agreed without hesitation. The people around him were all influential figures in their respective industries.
It was a pity that Cong Nianwei had not been with him. The director of the Sculpture Department of the Central Academy of Fine Arts had also been called upon.
In the Chinese seal at the beginning, the engraving scene that bore the brunt of the impact was done by this old man.
Translator: Lan Editor: Efydatia Qin Guan's team worked together. Xue Wanyi helped Qin Guan with the dancers and taught them the basics of shooting a film.
Qin Guan was in charge of explaining the main actors in some of the scenes.
"Master Qian, you will be sitting for the close-up shot. You don't need to learn how to move. Just don't forget to raise your head properly.
That way, the assistant cameraman can take a picture of your face. Also, when you're sculpting, you don't have to worry about the camera under the glass plate, it will continue to record automatically … "
"Hey, dancers are even simpler. Lin Juanjuan, do you see the fork on the white floor? Yes, that's where you'll be dancing. "
"As long as you don't deviate by 20 centimeters, you can do whatever you want …"
As Qin Guan explained, the eyes of the three people around him lit up. Although they were all leaders in the industry, Qin Guan was a master when it came to making movies.
Zhang Yimou, who was adjusting the camera, smiled. He had never realized that Qin Guan was such a good teacher.
"Alright, members of the cast, are you ready? We can observe while others are filming. "
"Don't be nervous. Everyone's screen time won't be too long. You'll be doing what you're best at in your respective fields. Just listen to my instructions!"
All the onlookers nodded in unison. Zhang Yimou picked Qin Guan first, as if he had thought of something.
"Forget it, it's better for you to go first and give them some peace of mind!"
"Ah? Sigh! "
Qin Guan rolled up his sleeves and got on the stage without hesitation.
He had no choice but to roll up his sleeves. His costume was too immortal.
It was a light green linen shirt and a pair of green linen trousers. The legs of the trousers hung over his black and grey traditional cloth shoes.
It was very comfortable to sit on the soles of the shoes with eight layers of inner connection.
Qin Guan sneezed as he walked to the spacious hall in his underwear.
It was cold.
Part of it was because of the thin clothes, while the other part was because of the pretentious location of the documentary.
It was made of green bamboos, yellow bamboos as the framework, green bamboos as the roof, and emerald bamboos as the curtains. A filming set made of the most elegant plants in the world was set up by a misty lake. It was not meant to be lived in at all.
Above the autumn lake, silver ripples gently rippled. Some chilly air was rising, mixed with the capital's wind. Just like that, it swirled past this bamboo house that was leaking wind on all sides.
Qin Guan sat down in the middle of the hall, facing the pure green mountains and the green lake. In front of him was a winding bamboo path that led to a dock made of bamboo.
Qin Guan didn't know how the ancient people had been able to live in such an environment, but he finally understood why all those talented people had died young.
It was still cold.
Zhang Yimou, who was on the sidelines, did not have the slightest bit of pity in his heart. As for the audience outside the field, they were completely unaware of the difficulties involved. Instead, they were mesmerized by the scene and could not control themselves.
They were both artists, so they realized that Qin Guan was completely absorbed in the painting.
"Actors, ready... Bamboo Slips Inheritance... Three, two, go!"
Director Zhang gave the order from behind the camera. Qin Guan entered the simple script of the documentary.
He sat cross-legged on the bamboo, a Chinese table in front of him. Bamboo slips were scattered on the table.
Qin Guan's back was straight, and his neck was straight. The actor felt like he had traveled through thousands of years and was conversing with the ancient people.
His cyan clothes were fluttering silently in the wind. He raised his arms with the elegance of China's history.
A weasel hair, half a pot of ink, and a drop of ink...
The tip of the brush danced in Qin Guan's nimble wrist, leaving a mark of time on the blank bamboo slips in his other hand.
The small regular script, which had a strong character, had left behind a unique charm in the most ancient writing style.
The camera was no longer focused on Qin Guan's back or his delicate handwriting.
It wasn't a fleeting glimpse of his chin and side profile that the viewers wanted to catch a glimpse of. Instead, it was a solid full frontal shot of his face.
The man was like jade, and his son was unparalleled.
The poem had originally been written by an unknown woman, but a talented Chinese man had adapted it to describe a man's beauty. It was perfect for Qin Guan.
As a representative of the 1930s Chinese painters, calligraphers, and sculptors of the Central Academy of Fine Arts, Master Qian was already shaking his beard as if he had been electrocuted.
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