12dz Chapter 728: Nanyang Cinema Participates in the First Cannes Film Festival?
Chapter 728: Nanyang Cinema Participates in the First Cannes Film Festival?
A blank expression appeared on all four young faces at the same time.
Film festival? Cannes? Train ticket?
Zhou Xiaomei was the first to react; she picked up the invitation and examined it carefully.
The card is thick and embossed, with the words "The organizing committee of the first Cannes International Film Festival is honored to invite you..." written in Gaul. It is signed by the festival president.
“Ambassador… this…” Wu Xinjue stammered, “We… we are science and engineering students, film…”
“I know you study physics and metallurgy,” Ambassador Huang interrupted him with a smile, “so you should go even more. Young people shouldn’t bury themselves in laboratories, libraries, and workshops all day long.”
The nation sends you out here hoping you will become pillars of society. What makes a pillar of society? It means possessing both solid professional knowledge and a broad perspective, understanding how the world works and how different cultures can interact.
He leaned forward, his tone becoming serious: "At this film festival, we have two films from Nanyang participating. One is a live-action film, 'Helios,' which tells the story of the Malay Chinese resistance against Japan. The other is an animated film, 'Tintin's Adventures in Nanyang.'"
"Tintin?" Chen Siyuan's eyes lit up. "The Adventures of Tintin? The Tintin by the Low Country painter Hergé?"
“Yes.” Ambassador Huang nodded. “Mr. Hergé was invited to Southeast Asia by us two years ago.”
He is now the 'Art Advisor for Southeast Asian Countries', and his studio is in Yangon.
He personally supervised the production of this animation, leading our local animation team from Southeast Asia.
This news was even more shocking than the film festival invitation.
Hergé, the artist who created the wildly popular Tintin stories, had actually come to Southeast Asia long ago?
"Is this... planned?" Zhou Xiaomei asked astutely, her thinking always getting straight to the point, "Inviting internationally renowned artists to produce animation for a global audience..."
"Xiaomei has hit the nail on the head." Ambassador Huang gave her an approving look. "The President and the Cabinet believe that a nation's strength is multi-dimensional."
We must not only be able to produce high-quality steel, build large power plants, and develop new weapons, but also create compelling stories, attractive cultural products, and lifestyles that people aspire to.
He took a sip of tea and continued, "We must break the stereotypes that the Western world has about Chinese people and Southeast Asia."
We can't always portray characters like the treacherous and cunning Fu Manchu, or the apathetic and weak Coolie.
We want to tell the world that the Chinese in Southeast Asia can be brave warriors, wise scholars, interesting partners, and creative artists.
The land of Southeast Asia boasts magnificent scenery, diverse cultures, and vibrant life.
"So this film festival is... a cultural showcase?" Lin Zhenhua asked.
“Yes, this is the first official international cultural debut.” Ambassador Huang’s eyes lit up. “We need an audience, we need feedback, and we also need young intellectuals like you to see with your eyes and think with your brains.”
How would our cultural products fare on the world stage? What are the reactions of white audiences? What did we do well, and where do we need to improve?
He stood up, walked to the window, and turned his back to them:
"You will all be people who return to the country to take on important responsibilities in the future. Perhaps Zhenhua and Siyuan will go to the Institute of Nuclear Physics, and Xinjue and Xiaomei will go to the Steel Plant. But you must remember that national construction is not just about formulas and molten steel."
It also includes how we are perceived by the world, how we tell our stories, and how we win respect and recognition on the battlefield of people's hearts.
The office fell silent, save for the sound of pigeons flapping their wings as they flew past the window.
Chen Siyuan took a deep breath and picked up the invitation.
“Ambassador, we understand,” he said. “We will look at it carefully and think about it carefully.”
“Great!” Ambassador Huang turned around, his smile returning to his face. “Then it’s settled. The train is on the morning of the 18th; the ticket has time on it. When you get to Cannes, relax and treat it as a cultural exploration outside of your academic trip. Oh, and by the way…”
He seemed to suddenly remember something, and blinked:
"If foreign journalists or film critics ask you for your opinion on Southeast Asian films, just tell the truth. We don't engage in false propaganda. But if someone still holds onto outdated prejudices, you don't need to be polite. We Southeast Asians don't cause trouble, but we're not afraid of trouble either."
It was already evening when the four left the embassy.
The setting sun over the Seine painted the sky gold and red, and the bells of Notre Dame Cathedral were ringing.
“I still feel like I’m dreaming.” Wu Xinjue held the train ticket, turning it over and over to look at it. “Cannes Film Festival… I haven’t even seen many of the films.”
“Me neither,” Zhou Xiaomei said honestly. “Back in Singapore, the cinemas were showing Hollywood movies, or Shanghai martial arts films and erotic films. The only movies we made in Southeast Asia… in my memory are wartime propaganda short films.”
Lin Zhenhua carefully tucked the invitation into his inner pocket: "The ambassador is right, this is part of the national strategy. We're not going just for fun, we're going with a mission."
"The task is just to watch the movie and then write a review?" Chen Siyuan joked, but then became serious. "But seriously, I'm very curious. What kind of movies can we in Southeast Asia make? And animation... What will Hergega's Southeast Asia team be like?"
The four of them walked slowly along the banks of the Seine, a strange emotion welling up inside them.
---
September 18, 1946, Lyon train station.
The long "Côte d'Azur Express" lies quietly beside the platform.
The steam locomotive spewed out white steam.
At the door of the first-class carriage, uniformed train attendants were checking tickets. The passengers were mostly well-dressed gentlemen and ladies, carrying elegant suitcases.
Lin Zhenhua and his three companions stood among the crowd, dressed in their best clothes, looking somewhat reserved.
"First class..." Wu Xinjue looked at the interior of the carriage: deep red velvet seats, mahogany window frames, brass luggage racks, and crystal glass reading lights overhead. "How much would this cost?"
"It's from the government," Zhou Xiaomei said softly. "Don't look shy, just be natural."
They found their private room and the four of them sat down.
The compartment was spacious, with two rows of seats facing each other and a small table in the middle. The platform outside the window began to move backward, and the train slowly started moving, leaving Huadu.
As the urban landscape was gradually replaced by pastoral scenery, the four of them relaxed.
Wu Xinjue curiously examined the metal frame of the car window: "This is an aluminum alloy profile, extruded... the seams are handled very delicately."
"Old Wu, can you stop thinking about metallurgy for ten minutes?" Chen Siyuan slumped in his chair, looking out the window at the pastures, farmhouses, and distant church steeples rushing past.
"It's an occupational hazard, I can't change it." Wu Xinjue chuckled, but he really withdrew his hand. "But to be honest, there are indeed many things worth learning from the Gauls' experience in materials processing."
"Look at this table—" He tapped the small mahogany table in front of him, "The sanding and varnishing process brings out the wood grain perfectly without making it too shiny or gaudy. This technique can significantly increase the value of our furniture exports from Southeast Asia."
Zhou Xiaomei opened her notebook and began to record what she saw and heard along the way.
Lin Zhenhua then took out the "Annals of Physics," but after reading a few pages, his attention was constantly drawn to the scenery outside the window.
The train accelerated, and the scenery outside the window blurred into patches of color.
Chen Siyuan suddenly stared out, his eyes vacant, muttering to himself, "What do you think would happen if this train could accelerate to near the speed of light?"