Chapter 678 The Moat (Two chapters combined) The so-called actor carrying the box office doesn't actually refer to the astronomical figures of billions, but rather to the lower limit of the box office.
In terms of film, the subject matter undoubtedly determines the upper limit. Secondly, the plot and production are crucial. Even with the top-tier actors and crew, a film like *The Forest Without Flowers*, with its subject matter, would never reach 5 billion at the box office. The same applies to *The Mute Woman*.
The situation is more complicated when actors manage to hold onto the lowest box office numbers.
Many people hastily attribute a film actor's career low box office performance to their lowest-grossing film, failing to consider the specific circumstances. The so-called "lower box office performance" must be analyzed in conjunction with the specific genre and era.
Taking the Chinese entertainment industry as an example, Chen Yuanchao, a top male star in the film industry today, had a film with a box office of only 500,000 yuan in his career; another popular artist, Ying Jie, had a film with a box office of 100 million yuan in his career. On paper, it seems that Ying Jie is far more "box office draw" than Chen Yuanchao.
However, once the veil is lifted from the books, it is easy to see that Chen Yuanchao's cumulative box office for his starring films has reached 16 billion yuan, while Yingjie's cumulative box office for his starring films is only 1.9 billion yuan, less than one-eighth of Chen Yuanchao's.
Upon closer inspection, Chen Yuanchao's film with a box office of 500,000 yuan was a thriller he starred in when he first debuted, titled "Wolf Valley," which was released in 2007. At the time, both the lead actor and the director were unknown.
Yingjie's film, which grossed 100 million yuan, was a highly anticipated big-budget production from three years ago called "Tears in the Sky." The original IP was very famous, and the director had three representative works that grossed over 500 million yuan. The supporting actors were also all somewhat well-known. The entire film had an investment of 200 million yuan, but because the film's producers' revenue share was about one-third, the film ultimately resulted in a net loss of over 150 million yuan.
Take, for example, another criticized comedy film, *Ten Thousand Horses Galloping*. Starring the now-defunct film star Kang Wuling, it grossed 500 million yuan. However, the plot was terrible, the special effects were rudimentary, and the jokes were awkward, making it a hybrid of a PowerPoint presentation and a music video. It received a mere 5.8 rating on Greenban. Kang Wuling was heavily criticized as a result, earning the nickname "the horse-taming man."
But everyone has to admit that without Kang Wuling's popularity and appeal, and without his superb performance, this horse-riding movie probably wouldn't have even been able to hold onto the 50 million yuan box office mark.
This is the truth behind the so-called "box office carry." Whether an actor can carry a film at the box office actually refers to their ability to attract as many casual viewers as possible and maintain a minimum standard of income, given the same subject matter, investment scale, and risk level. It's not about comparing a LGBTQ+ film with a special effects blockbuster, or a rural film with a sci-fi epic.
This is also why film actors struggle to transition and break through in their careers, and why the film industry suffers from rigid class structures. For example, a star like Yingjie, whose fanbase consists of only tens of millions of followers, is largely unknown to the general public who won't readily support him. In a low-budget film with an investment of tens or hundreds of millions, the cost can easily be recouped. However, a film like "Tears in the Sky," with an investment of two or three hundred million, would likely lose everything.
Therefore, it's highly unlikely that big-budget productions will actively seek out Yingjie. His film projects will most likely be permanently limited to small-scale productions with budgets in the tens of millions. After all, nobody invests in films hoping to lose money; everyone wants stability and to break even.
High-potential genres (such as science fiction, comedy, and patriotic themes) are needed to attract high-cost investments; and in order to recoup the high costs, it is necessary to find an artist who has already proven their ability to provide a solid foundation within that genre.
In short, heaven is to earth, rain is to wind, and the mainland is to the vast sky.
Artists without a fan base and no one to promote them can only get low-budget productions; those without a fan base but with strong support can get lead roles in mid-sized productions or supporting roles in big productions; only those with a proven track record and a large fan base can leverage top-tier film resources as lead actors.
To break through this class stratification, the only options are the actor's ambition and a bit of luck. If one day an actor achieves great success with a small budget, or if an investor boldly casts them in a big-budget production that is a box office hit, then there will be a glimmer of hope for upward mobility.
It's easier said than done. In the theatrical film market, where the return on investment is only 10%, talk of being enterprising and making big profits with small investments, or of making a name for oneself and achieving lasting success, is just wishful thinking for most people.
Beneath the ladder to heaven lies an inescapable hell; outside the den of extravagance flows a river of blood and tears. The vast majority of filmmakers who harbor dreams can only linger on the outside of this industry for a brief, unsuccessful journey.
Shang Yechu first achieved great success with a small investment through "The Mute Woman," and then completed his upward social mobility with "Happiness Street, Please Come In!" This experience is extremely rare. It has made countless people envious.
Ten years ago, Shang Yechu's path would have been much easier. She could have followed in the footsteps of Julia Roberts and Sandra Bullock—starring in chick flicks, that is, light commercial films with female themes or romantic comedies. But now, that approach doesn't work.
Ten years ago, the era was essentially one of single-screen social interaction combined with offline interactions. Men and women would go on dates, girlfriends would team up, or people would relax after work by watching a lighthearted and cute movie to satisfy their immediate emotional needs.
With the widespread adoption of streaming media, entertainment options such as variety shows, online dramas, games, and short videos have emerged, making movies no longer the preferred choice. Big-budget films that offer good value for money are more popular, while lighthearted romantic comedies without special effects or grand scenes are no longer as effective at captivating audiences.
Furthermore, the stratification of the film market today has undergone tremendous changes compared to ten years ago.
In the past, the film market was mainly divided into three tiers:
The first tier consists of low-budget art films and auteur films;
The second tier consists of mid-budget, star-driven commercial films, which is also the main battleground for chick flicks.
The third layer consists of blockbuster films driven by special effects and grand scenes.
In that era, actresses with good acting skills, fame, and decent looks were the vanguard of chick flicks; and chick flicks were a protective barrier for actresses in the film industry. Even though the elements of love and female rivalry in chick flicks, as well as their overly fairytale-like, unrealistic, and lacking-sharp criticism, are now subject to much criticism on the internet, considered outdated, and even criticized as "should be eliminated," "consumeristic," and "love-obsessed," they remain one of the main battlegrounds for female actors.
With the development of the times and the increase in entertainment options, the film market has now evolved into a new three-tiered system:
The first tier consists of low-cost break-even films, which are relatively easy to recoup costs due to their low cost.
The second tier consists of award-winning films. Regardless of budget, the priority is to secure awards for the director and lead actors.
The second tier consists of special effects blockbusters and commercial films, where making money is the primary objective.
Mid-budget films, which include chick flicks, have been almost entirely emptied out by the market and industry. In terms of price, these films aren't as cheap as low-budget films, making it easier to recoup costs; in terms of awards, commercial films struggle to win awards; and in terms of box office revenue, the diversification of entertainment options, shifting social attitudes, and the rise of online criticism have significantly increased the box office risk for this genre compared to the past. The entire window of opportunity is narrowing.
Chick flicks, in fact, are less likely to prove an actor's box office appeal than some big-budget productions that rely on special effects and grand scenes. This is because audiences enjoy watching your comedic antics, are willing to empathize with you, and are willing to go to the cinema for two hours to relax and enjoy watching your personal growth, love, friendship, career, and even the mundane details of your life.
In this industry, there were once women who used their personal charm and acting skills to uphold commercial credibility, carving out a space that, while not perfect, truly existed. That was an era when a female star's name was an intellectual property; now, that era is long gone.
Unfortunately, Shang Yechu is now standing under this distant sky, pondering her future with melancholy and anxiety.
Shang Yechu was actually quite interested in chick flicks. Her adolescence was a chaotic gray, so it wouldn't be bad to find an opportunity to experience the dazzling, ephemeral dreams in chick flicks and rediscover a youth she had never experienced before.
However, the premise is that she has a place in the film industry, and that she actively chooses chick flicks from various genres to relax and cater to her fans; rather than being squeezed out by other artists and forced to make low- or mid-budget films.
Shang Yechu wrote the words "the territory of the film industry" on a piece of paper.
Another roar came from next door; it was Mikhail, the screenwriter. Shang Yechu silently crossed himself for Lao Xie. He'd heard that Russians all believed in God, so he hoped God would bless Lao Xie.
Shang Yechu twirled his pen and wrote the words "freedom of choice" on the paper.
Freedom means the power to choose.
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