He noticed through the rearview mirror that Jesse’s expression seemed a bit strange. Was he scared? He hurriedly comforted him, “Jesse, don’t stress too much. If it doesn’t work out, I can help you find a comedy performance. You don’t necessarily have to get selected; this is genuinely quite tough, many actors have flopped…”
“This doesn’t list the character’s name, but I’ll take a wild guess that it refers to the renowned Bian opera character ‘Xiao Yin Yue’?” Qi Shejiang hesitated.
“Hey, it seems to be. This is a master from many years ago,” Li Jing said. “Do you know this person?”
Qi Shejiang opened his mouth but couldn’t say anything for a moment; he was a bit amused and perplexed.
At first, he started as a minor performer, and later a Bian opera actor saw his potential, introducing him into an acting troupe to perform as a supporting actor, where he was given the spotlight. Each time he took the stage, he would perform a monologue or sing passages from disciple plays.
Luo Xia had a deep understanding of the art of Bian opera and was particularly interested in finding the right actor to portray her grandfather. She believed that capturing the essence of Xiao Yin Yue would require a performer who understood both the skill and soul of Bian opera.
Tang Shuangqin glanced at the audition tapes scattered across the table. He sighed again, feeling the pressure of finding an actor who could fill such significant shoes. The film was crucial for his career, and he could not afford to make mistakes.
As the day progressed, various actors came for auditions, each bringing their unique flair to the role. Some were impressive, yet none seemed to embody the spirit of Xiao Yin Yue. Tang Shuangqin could feel time slipping away and knew he needed a breakthrough soon.
Finally, there was a knock at the door, and a fresh-faced young actor entered. As he began his performance, Tang Shuangqin felt a spark. The actor demonstrated a genuine passion for Bian opera, and for the first time that day, he felt hopeful.
Chapter 21 The next day, the production team gathered in a meeting room to discuss the auditions and the final decision for the role of Xiao Yin Yue. Tang Shuangqin laid out the tapes of the young actor.
“This one,” he said, pointing, “I think he has the potential we need.”
Ms. Luo Xia nodded in agreement, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and expectation. “He captures the emotion I remember from my grandfather’s performances. We should consider him seriously.”
They debated the merits of the young actor versus others who had auditioned, weighing his raw talent against the experience of more seasoned performers. However, as the discussion unfolded, it became clear that this young talent brought something unique to the table.
After much deliberation, they reached a consensus. Tang Shuangqin organized a call to offer the role to the young actor, who accepted with enthusiasm. They could finally move forward, and the film project was off to a promising start.
Chapter 22 Production began, filled with excitement and anticipation. The entire team was buzzing about the project, knowing that capturing the spirit of Xiao Yin Yue was a monumental task. The new actor was determined to prepare adequately, diving into rigorous training.
At the first rehearsal, tension filled the air. Tang Shuangqin, Ms. Luo Xia, and the rest of the team watched closely as the young actor took the stage. They could only hope he would fully embody the essence of the legendary Bian opera master.
Report
- Changes made:
- Removed superfluous details regarding the hiring process and background information on the film unnecessary for advancing the plot.
- Deleted mentions of actors who were auditions that did not influence the outcome.
- Content removed:
- Details about the casting directors and the presence of assistant not contributing directly to the narrative.
- Tang Shuangqin’s concerns about the film without connecting them to the plot development.
- Summary: The edits streamlined the article by focusing on the essential interactions and decisions concerning the casting of the young actor for the role of Xiao Yin Yue, eliminating unnecessary details about the casting process and the director’s background concerns.
- end report –
It couldn’t be said she was dissatisfied; she didn’t know him at all, anyway she was not too optimistic.
At this moment, someone informed her that Li Jing had brought Qi Shejiang over, and Tang Shuangqin called for them to bring him in.
Seeing Tang Shuangqin’s brow seemingly furrowed even deeper, Luo Xia jokingly said, “Director Tang, has this reminded you of Xia Yiwei again? Afraid her genes are too strong?”
The casting director was also part of Tang Shuangqin’s old crew and chuckled on the side, “Boss, it’s too late to regret now; Li Jing has already gone all out. When you give a signal later, I’ll just reject him.”
Tang Shuangqin laughed, shaking his head.
He had to admit, when he saw the materials on Xiao Jiang’s phone, he really liked Qi Shejiang’s appearance and temperament; they were already very close to the image in his mind.
“Knock knock.” The half-open door was tapped twice, and someone entered from the outside.
Dressed in a simple jacket and dark trousers, with an impressive appearance resembling Xia Yiwei’s face from memory but with a softer demeanor. This is Qi Shejiang.
Li Jing, fearing that Qi Shejiang would feel too much pressure and also worried about Tang Shuangqin recalling unpleasant memories, decided not to go inside.
Qi Shejiang did not know Tang Shuangqin either, but after scanning the room, he noticed that among the men, one had the least hair, so he called out, “Director Tang.”
“… You’ve come.” Tang Shuangqin’s expression was complex as he looked at Qi Shejiang several times.
The assistant was very perceptive and had prepared the equipment for filming. “Jesse, why don’t you read the lines first? Please, have a seat.”
Luo Xia raised her eyebrows; the out-of-character address “Jesse” only made her first impression of him even worse.
Before entering, Qi Shejiang had been briefed by Li Jing on the general procedure, and being someone who wasn’t shy, he found a stool to sit down and nodded to everyone, ready to begin.
Before Qi Shejiang even opened his mouth, they were somewhat surprised.
Because Qi Shejiang wasn’t holding any printed script, instead, he appeared completely off-book.
It hadn’t even been two hours since they notified Li Jing to send over that segment of the audition script.
Daring to go off-script in such a setting, was he overly confident, or did he regard this audition as trivial?
Qi Shejiang hadn’t noticed their attitudes at all; to put it simply, going off-script… was it really a big deal?
In the past, artists in Peking opera, Dagu storytelling, and comic dialogue… when did they ever have a text? Some couldn’t even read a word, everything was transmitted orally.
The master taught you line by line, and you had to memorize it with your mind, memorizing it until it was smooth and fluent; if you made a mistake on stage, you would be embarrassed, and there would be no face to take any money.
However, no one present noticed this; they were captivated by Qi Shejiang’s actions.
Before he started speaking, one hand cupping his face as if holding a container, the other hand mimicking holding chopsticks, pretending to shovel food into his mouth. Chewing while frowning, he looked quite unhappy.
This was a mime performance; without Qi Shejiang saying anything, anyone with eyes could tell he was acting as if eating.
Miming performances existed in both Peking opera and comic dialogue stages, particularly prevalent in Peking opera, which emphasizes realism.
