Tokyo: My Best Actor Gear List

Chapter 326 Watching with eager eyes



Chapter 326 Watching with eager eyes

Chapter 326 Watching with eager eyes

Early summer, Burbank Studios, Los Angeles.

In this industrial park that houses the most top-tier sound stages in Hollywood, sound stages one through three have been fully booked by the North American branch of the Kitahara Group. A tight security cordon has been erected around the area, with security personnel patrolling 24 hours a day.

However, under such tight security, Kitahara Shin set a rather unusual rule: the crew not only did not guard against the real top directors, veteran producers and core executives of major studios in Hollywood, but also opened up regular "set visit days".

This is definitely not because Kitahara Shin enjoys being in a crowd, or because he wanted to leak trade secrets in advance.

This is a blatant display of strength by a top predator.

He was well aware that in 1999, Hollywood still harbored deep-seated skepticism about the industrial capabilities of Asian filmmakers. He not only wanted to make a film that would shock the world, but also to use this opportunity to bring in the elite of Hollywood and let them see for themselves what a truly revolutionary film industry assembly line looked like! He wanted to use his hardcore strength to completely crush the lingering arrogance in the hearts of those old-school filmmakers, paving the way for the Kitahara Group to acquire and build its own special effects industrial empire in the future.

At 10 a.m., several discreet black cars drove into the park.

The car door opened, and the few people who stepped out represented the pinnacle of power in Hollywood commercial films of the 1990s.

James Cameron, who had just swept eleven Oscars for "Titanic" and proclaimed "I am the king of the world" at the awards ceremony, was biting an unlit cigar and sharply surveying his surroundings.

Walking beside him was Steven Spielberg, the pillar of Hollywood, who became a legend with "Jurassic Park" and "Schindler's List".

Following behind the two directors were the vice presidents of several of the six major film studios, including Warner Bros. and Paramount. They had come along today with a clear purpose: Kitahara Shin had rejected all external investments, but they were still determined to find any opportunity to slip their money in.

"James, I heard that the young Asian director built a monster in the studio for this movie." Spielberg said with his hands in his pockets, looking both curious and scrutinizing.

Cameron took the cigar out of his mouth and chuckled.

As a filmmaking fanatic who just burned through $200 million to build a life-size replica of the Titanic, Cameron has an extraordinary immunity to so-called "big-budget" projects.

"Anyone can build a set; with enough money, you can even bring the Eiffel Tower into a studio." Cameron's tone carried the composure and rigor of a veteran director. "But set design and film engineering are two different things. When I was filming *The Abyss*, I built a giant underwater studio to solve the problem of buoyancy. I heard he's going to build some kind of zero-gravity corridor? I'd like to see if he's just wasting money on gimmicks or if he really understands how to use physics to serve the shots."

Led by the film crew's public relations manager, the group entered the massive Studio One.

As soon as they stepped through the door, a completely different atmosphere of the film crew hit them, causing Spielberg and Cameron to stop in their tracks.

In their experience, these mega-productions with budgets exceeding $150 million and staff numbers of thousands are often accompanied by a degree of chaos on set. Assistant directors shouting themselves hoarse through megaphones, production crew running around carrying props, lighting technicians and cinematographers arguing over camera positions—these are all common occurrences on Hollywood blockbuster sets. Even when Cameron himself was filming *Titanic*, the set was frequently filled with shouting and yelling due to various scheduling issues.

However, in Kitahara Shin's film crew.

Quiet.

A chilling quietness and efficiency, like the meshing of gears in a precision clock!

Hundreds of staff members from different roles, dressed in matching crew vests, were working efficiently and methodically in their respective areas. There was no loud noise; all communication was conducted via walkie-talkies and hushed conversations.

The lighting crew was setting up a Japanese castle set (Saito's Dream) in Zone 3. A dozen huge HPL lights and softboxes were precisely positioned without anyone urging them to move. The camera crew was inspecting the expensive IMAX cameras, meticulously cleaning every single component.

In the rest area, the extras and stunt performers didn't sit on the ground like a ragtag bunch, but quietly stayed in designated temperature-controlled tents. The crew's logistical support was very scientific, with coffee carts and cold food tables readily available, and even dedicated physiotherapists helping stunt performers relax their muscles after completing action tests.

This state is not something that can be forced out through exploitation and verbal abuse.

This is the terrifying effect of Kitahara Shin activating his [Director's Domain] equipment to its maximum power. Under this invisible force field, everyone's mental focus was elevated to the highest level, eliminating meaningless internal friction and anxiety. Everyone seemed to become a massive organism with a shared brain, where all commands could be perfectly understood and executed.

This is a scientific management approach that is full of humanistic care, yet pushes industrial efficiency to its limits!

Seeing this, Cameron's initially scrutinizing gaze gradually turned serious. The Hollywood producers beside him stared wide-eyed; they knew all too well what such management efficiency meant in the film industry—it meant zero budget waste and absolute control over the shooting schedule! In 1999, most film crews were still operating like makeshift operations, barely surviving thanks to the director's personal prestige. Kitahara Shin, however, had transformed the crew into a highly information-driven modern factory!

"Let's go to Zone Two. Director Kitahara is filming there." The PR manager gestured for them to proceed.

After passing through several huge soundproof barriers, the group finally arrived at the most central and expensive set area of ​​the movie.

When Spielberg and Cameron looked up and saw the enormous thing in front of them.

Two seasoned Hollywood directors, both seasoned veterans of the industry, gasped in surprise!

That wasn't just a simple set design; it was an insane engineering marvel!

In the center of a 30-meter-high studio, a metal frame composed of eight giant concentric rings was constructed using aerospace-grade heavy-duty steel. Inside these rings, suspended in mid-air, lies a 30-meter-long, perfectly replicated luxury hotel corridor!

The corridor was sealed off at both ends, with massive hydraulic linkages and two incredibly powerful industrial motors connecting to drive shafts outside the corridor. The entire setup didn't look like something out of a movie; it resembled a giant centrifuge used by NASA to train astronauts!

Cameron strode to the edge of the safety barrier, his knowledgeable eyes scanning the welded joints of the steel and the hydraulic system.

"My God—" Cameron muttered to himself. He had previously thought that Kitahara Shin had only built a big iron barrel, but now he understood that the complexity of this thing was far beyond his imagination!

"He designed the metal rings on the outside of the corridor as a track pulley structure, which allows the interior corridor to not only sway left and right, but also to complete a 360-degree roll without any blind spots! Moreover, he also reserved the camera movement track on the internal slide rails of the corridor!" Cameron pointed to those intricate structures and explained the horror of them to Spielberg, his tone already carrying a unique sense of awe and admiration among colleagues.

"This isn't just about throwing money at it; it's about perfectly combining architectural mechanics, mechanical dynamics, and cinematic camerawork. Filming action scenes inside these steel monsters weighing tens of tons means that if the rotation speed is off by even a second, the actor will be thrown out by gravity and break their neck."

This guy—he's a complete madman!

Cameron is an expert, which is why he was even more shocked. He appreciates Kitahara Shin's practical filming philosophy of "pursuing realistic physical collisions," but he never expected that an Asian director so much younger than him would dare to take such a big step, directly challenging this level of industrial-grade extreme operation!

Just then, a low, mechanical roar sounded.

The two enormous industrial motors began to run.

To everyone's astonishment, the 30-meter-long hotel corridor, weighing tens of tons, actually began to slowly rotate in mid-air!

"Action!"

As the calm and steady voice came from the loudspeaker, the lights in the corridor suddenly turned on.

Through an open monitor at one end of the corridor, visitors could clearly see the scene inside.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt, who plays "Striker Arthur," was not suspended by wires. At this moment, as the corridor rotates at a constant speed of four revolutions per minute, the direction of Earth's gravity undergoes a strange change inside the corridor.

Joseph, following the angle of the rotating corridor wall, tilted his body and actually "walked" up the corridor wall step by step! Immediately afterwards, two stunt actors playing subconscious defenders rushed in.

The three engaged in a brutal close-quarters fight in this constantly churning, enclosed space!

When the corridor rotates 90 degrees, the walls become the floor; when it rotates 180 degrees, the ceiling becomes the solid ground beneath their feet! This scene, which completely defies everyday physics yet appears incredibly realistic due to the force of gravity, delivers a tremendous visual impact that is difficult to describe in words!

Without any CGI effects, the sense of clothes falling and muscles tensing due to changes in gravity in the scene is a perfect realism that no computer-generated image can replicate!

"This scene is amazing—this realistic sense of weightlessness and disorientation, once it's shown on the big screen, will definitely cause a visual revolution." Spielberg gripped the railing with both hands, his eyes glued to the image transmitted back from the monitor.

"Stop. Joseph, you're hesitating."

Just as the action reached its most intense moment, Kitahara Shin's instructions came through the loudspeakers in the corridor.

The motor gradually slowed down, and the corridor came to a stop in a horizontal position.

Kitahara Shin, wearing a simple black T-shirt and holding a rolled-up script, deftly flipped over the railing and walked directly into the corridor that had just stopped rotating.

The visitors immediately crowded around the monitor, eager to see how this legendary "real-life filming maniac" directed and coordinated operations on site.

In the corridor, Joseph was panting heavily. This kind of fighting while rolling around was extremely exhausting and could easily cause dizziness.

"Director Kitahara, I'm sorry. When the wall rotated to the top of my head, my eyes instinctively wanted to look for the ground, so my punch was slow," Joseph explained sincerely, wiping his sweat.

Kitahara Shin didn't get angry. He walked to where Joseph had been standing and looked up at the chandelier on the ceiling of the corridor.

"Your body is being pulled by gravity, that's normal. But you've forgotten who you are now." Kitahara Shin's voice was calm and professional, possessing a captivating charm that drew people in effortlessly. "Arthur is a dream expert. In zero gravity, his mind is clearer than anyone else's. You can't act out this scene using the logic of 'a person falling down on Earth.'"

Kitahara Shin turned around, faced Joseph and the two stunt performers, and personally gave a demonstration.

He slightly separated his legs to lower his center of gravity.

"In this space, there is no up, down, left, or right; there is only you and your target. As the corridor rotates, don't try to feel the change in the ground," Kitahara Shin said, demonstrating a perfectly executed parry and counter-attack. "Your eyes must be locked on your opponent's chin. Imagine the entire rotating room as an elevator ascending. Your body isn't falling," but rather gliding."

"Remember, go with gravity, don't fight it."

A few simple yet insightful remarks on acting, which touched upon the core of physics and character psychology, made Joseph suddenly realize something, and his eyes lit up instantly.

Then, Kitahara Shin walked to the corner and pointed to a wall lamp, instructing the lighting team: "Lower the anti-glare shade of this lamp by two inches. When the corridor rotates 180 degrees, the halo of this lamp will shine directly into the lens of camera position number three, creating unnecessary glare and ruining the cold feeling brought about by weightlessness."

He even crouched down and touched the seams of the carpet in the hallway: "Re-tack this carpet with tape. When the stuntman landed, the carpet undulated for a fraction of a second, which would look very fake under IMAX's high-definition lens."

From psychological profiling of actions to optical refraction of light, and even the physical seams of a carpet!

Cameron and Spielberg, standing outside the monitor, looked at each other, both seeing a deep sense of admiration in each other's eyes.

They initially assumed that Kitahara Shin, being so young, would rely on assistant directors and department heads to meticulously manage such a massive industrial behemoth. But the reality was that this man possessed an appallingly obsessive understanding of every aspect of the film industry! He wasn't managing a crew; he was ruling the set!

"He's a monster," Cameron sighed, but his tone carried a hint of excitement at meeting a worthy opponent. "He has a complete system in his head."

The vice presidents of the Hollywood studios following behind no longer looked at Kitahara Shin with the same eyes they had when he was a young director; they looked at him as a walking gold mine!

It’s too shocking!

This terrifyingly efficient production management system, this hardcore filmmaking approach that spares no expense yet pours every penny into visual spectacle, coupled with Shin Kitahara's impeccable control—once Inception is released, its box office will definitely exceed a few hundred million dollars, and it might even change the direction of action film production in Hollywood for the next decade!

If you could invest in this movie, even just a 10% stake, the returns would be immeasurable!

"Mr. Sasaki!" Warner's vice president, finally unable to contain his greed, grabbed Sasaki, who was accompanying him. "Isn't the Kitahara Group really considering bringing in some local capital? We can handle the distribution and promotion throughout North America, and we can even open up all of Warner's prime-time slots! As long as Director Kitahara is willing to let us invest some money!"

Paramount executives panicked and quickly squeezed in: "We at Paramount can provide top-tier post-production visual effects resources! Just add our name to the investor list, and we'll name your price!"

Watching these bigwigs who are usually high and mighty and monopolize Hollywood resources now lower their stance as if they were grabbing cabbage at a vegetable market for a share of investment is quite shocking.

A surge of intense pride welled up in Zosam's heart.

He maintained a polite, professional smile and turned down all the offers of help.

"I'm very sorry, everyone." Sasaki's tone was gentle, but it exuded the absolute confidence that belonged to the Kitahara Group. "As the president already said at the press conference, the Kitahara Group has 100% sole control over this film, from the construction of the first screw to the final film processing. This is the personal art of our president, and we will not allow any interference from capital."

Hearing this unequivocal rejection, the executives looked regretful, but none of them dared to get angry.

In this industrial system where strength speaks volumes, Shinichi Kitahara, with his groundbreaking practical effects filming, gave Hollywood a vivid and impactful lesson. He used his raw talent to tell these white capitalists: here, he sets the rules!

In the VIP lounge outside Studio One, several Hollywood executives who had been maintaining a facade of civility were now gathered together, their gentlemanly manners completely disregarded, and a heated argument was erupting.

"Don't talk to me about joint distribution, Saul!" Warner Bros.' Senior Vice President Michael was pointing his finger at the Paramount executive, his voice trembling slightly with excitement. "Warner Bros. can guarantee a minimum of 3,000 screens across the US. If Kitahara is willing to give up 10% of his share, we can even allocate next year's entire distribution budget to *Inception*! This isn't just about money; this is witnessing a turning point in film history!"

"Three thousand screens? Michael, are you treating Kitahara like a three-year-old?" Paramount's Saul sneered, his tone dripping with undisguised sarcasm. "With the industrial quality this film has demonstrated today, theaters worldwide will be begging for screenings. We at Paramount are willing to offer more than just theaters; we're also offering our exclusive distribution channels in Europe and South America, built up over decades, and—the top media relations team in all of Hollywood. We can guarantee that every Oscar voter will have only Kitahara's name on their mind before they even vote!"

Universal Pictures' COO squeezed in, his eyes gleaming with a morbid fervor: "You've all missed the point. Kitahara's 'physical filming' system is a rare resource that no special effects software can replicate within the next decade. If we can't invest, it means we'll be completely left behind by this young man in the future global film market! Universal is willing to subscribe to any percentage of shares at double the premium, and even accept shares with no voting rights!"

"Double the premium? Are you crazy?" Michael's eyes widened.

"This era is insane, Michael!" A Universal executive pointed at the massive, spinning wheel and hissed, "Didn't you see Cameron's expression? Even that arrogant king of the world was speechless with shock! Once this movie is released, it will be the ticket to the 21st-century film industry. Anyone who doesn't get on this train will become an antique of the film era!"

Several bigwigs who usually wield considerable influence on Wall Street and in Hollywood were now scrambling for a lifeline, their faces flushed as they exposed each other's shortcomings and raised their bids. They even nearly came to blows in the lobby over who was more qualified to negotiate a second round of offers with Zosam.

This almost frenzied pursuit is not only because of the foreseeable box office returns of "Inception," but also because these financial giants have keenly sensed that Shin Kitahara is using his own power to redefine the rules of the game in the global entertainment industry.

He doesn't need their money, and that's what terrifies and drives them the most.

"Even just getting a tiny bit of 'this hot commodity' would be enough to dazzle all our shareholders in next year's financial reports." Michael took a deep breath, straightened his crooked tie, and stared intently at Kitahara Shin, who was talking to the mechanical team not far away. "Go, continue to pressure Sasaki. Tell him that Warner Bros. will open all of its copyright libraries to Kitahara if he agrees, as long as he can get us involved!"


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