mesbooks Chapter 315 The Arrogant Young Lady, the Future Bond Girl
Chapter 315 The Arrogant Young Lady, the Future Bond Girl
Chapter 315 The Arrogant Young Lady, the Future Bond Girl
As 1998 drew to a close, the new millennium was fast approaching.
With the phenomenal success of "Resident Evil: Origins" in the European and American markets, and the successful listing of the North American branch, Shin Kitahara has completed the most basic accumulation of capital and connections in Hollywood.
Next, he's going to reveal his true hand.
In the director's studio on the top floor of the Chiyoda Ward headquarters, the walls are covered with densely packed concept drawings, storyboards, and psychological profiling reports.
Shin Kitahara stood in front of a huge whiteboard, holding a marker, sketching out the core visual tone of his new film, "Shutter Island."
This is not only a psychological thriller masterpiece vying for an Oscar, but also the first Hollywood blockbuster that Kitahara Shin completely shed his actor identity and took control from the God's-eye view of a pure "director" and "producer".
"The core of this film lies in deception and atmosphere," Kitahara Shin said to the art director, director of photography, and several key assistant directors sitting around the long table.
"The protagonist, Teddy, is a veteran suffering from severe schizophrenia. His world is distorted, so our visual language absolutely cannot be objective." Kitahara Shin slammed his marker on the whiteboard several times. "I need the camera to convey a strong sense of subjective bias. The contrast of light and shadow must be intense, and the colors must present a repressive, grayish-green hue, somewhere between reality and dreams."
The Hollywood moguls present, who had been hired at great expense, nodded repeatedly, their eyes filled with admiration. They found that this young Asian tycoon possessed a profound and awe-inspiring mastery of cinematic language.
Kitahara Shin's confidence comes not only from his memories of his past life, but also from his new development of his "golden finger" (powerful ability).
Having experienced the previous masterpieces, he discovered that the epic-level equipment granted by the system could actually be "expanded into a domain".
When he sits behind the monitor as a pure director, he can make the retro film filter of "A Glimpse into Time" and the emotional impact of other equipment no longer just affect him, but rather, like an invisible magnetic field, directly cover the entire crew!
Within this "director's domain," the lighting technician will instinctively cast the light source that best matches the emotion; the cinematographer's push-pull and panning will create a wonderful resonance with the actors' heartbeats; and the extras' state will also be forcibly pulled into that oppressive and suspenseful atmosphere.
The entire crew will no longer be scattered individuals, but will become a huge organic entity in Kitahara Shin's hands, with all operations reaching an unimaginable level of efficiency and perfection.
This is his ultimate trump card that allows him to challenge the Hollywood industrial system and manipulate those arrogant movie stars!
However, just as the preliminary preparations were progressing smoothly, a minor but significant problem came to the wits' end of the entire production team.
"President, there's a problem at the filming location."
Secretary Aida walked into the office with a fax in hand and a somewhat unpleasant expression.
"In the script of 'Shutter Island,' the island where mental patients are imprisoned is the soul of the entire film. It must be isolated from the world, surrounded by steep cliffs, shrouded in sea fog all year round, and there must be a large, existing Gothic-style architectural complex on the island," Secretary Aida reported, pointing to the information on the fax.
Kitahara Shin nodded; this was something he had always emphasized. In 1998, while CGI technology in film had made significant progress, it still exhibited noticeable distortion when handling large-scale natural environments (such as torrential rain and waves crashing against rocks). The worst thing for psychological thrillers is a fake environment; once the audience perceives the background as computer-generated composite, their sense of immersion instantly collapses.
Therefore, they had to find a real island that met the requirements for location shooting.
"Our North American location scouting team practically turned the East Coast of the United States and the islands around Europe upside down. Finally, in the open sea far from the Boston coast, we found Blackwood Island, a private island that seemed tailor-made for the script."
Secretary Aida frowned deeply: "This island has an abandoned 19th-century castle and lighthouse, with treacherous terrain and an excellent atmosphere. More importantly, it has its own generator set and freshwater recycling system, which can meet the logistical needs of our crew of several hundred people filming here."
"Now that you've found it, just rent it. What difficulties have you encountered?" Kitahara Shin put down his marker and asked casually.
With the Kitahara Group's current financial resources, let alone renting an island, even buying it would be a drop in the ocean.
"That's the problem. The other party is not short of money at all." Secretary Aida gave a wry smile. "The owner of Kuroki Island is a very well-established European aristocratic family. Their family seems to have a deep prejudice against the entertainment industry, believing that the arrival of film crews will damage the island's natural environment and disturb their peace."
"Not only that—" Secretary Aida hesitated for a moment, but still reported truthfully, "Our public relations team has run into a lot of trouble over there. The local residents and the family's butler are extremely arrogant. They think that a film company from Asia can't possibly make any decent Western psychological thrillers. Their words are full of distrust and rejection of our Asian identity. Even when we brought in a local Hollywood mediator to plead our case, they wouldn't even let us in the door."
Upon hearing this, Kitahara Shin's eyes turned slightly cold.
He knew all too well the arrogance and xenophobia inherent in old-money families in Europe and America. In the eyes of those self-proclaimed noble European aristocrats, the new rich in Hollywood were nothing more than actors and nouveau riche, let alone him, an Asian who had crossed the sea.
But the Shutter Island project allowed no compromises; the island's infrastructure was irreplaceable. Without securing Kuroki Island, the entire filming project would have to be indefinitely postponed.
"It seems that relying on subordinates to run errands won't work." Kitahara Shin picked up his suit jacket draped over the back of the chair with a brisk movement. "Book me the fastest flight to Boston and arrange a private yacht."
Three days later, in the Atlantic Ocean.
A sleek, luxurious private yacht is cutting through the grey-blue waves and heading into the depths of the mist.
Kitahara Shin stood on the deck, squinting as he gazed into the distance, facing the sea breeze that carried a salty, fishy smell and a chill.
As the yacht approached, a massive and sinister black silhouette gradually emerged on the horizon. Steep, jagged cliffs plunged into the sea like the fangs of a monster, while waves crashed violently against the rocks, sending up white foam several meters high. At the island's highest point, an ancient stone lighthouse loomed faintly against the gray sky, and halfway up the mountain, a vast Gothic-style manor could be vaguely seen.
It is oppressive, isolated, and filled with a kind of unsettling, neurotic beauty.
"Absolutely perfect," Kitahara Shin thought to himself. No wonder the location scouting team was so fixated on this place; the island's atmosphere was a match made in heaven with the script for "Shutter Island."
The yacht docked at a relatively flat private marina on the side of the island.
Kitahara Shin did not bring a large entourage, only Aida's secretary and a translator, and walked along a moss-covered stone path toward the manor halfway up the mountain.
The scenery along the way was desolate, with tall fir forests blocking out the sun. Just as they reached an open grassy slope near the edge of a cliff, a series of slightly chaotic and panicked horse neighs suddenly broke the island's deathly silence.
Kitahara Shin stopped and turned to look.
Less than thirty meters from the edge of the cliff, a massive, pure black thoroughbred horse was in a state of extreme fright and agitation. It reared up, neighing anxiously, and wildly thrashing its neck, trying to break free from its rider.
On horseback rode a girl who looked to be in her early twenties.
The girl was dressed in a sleek black equestrian outfit, her tall leather boots gripping the horse's flanks tightly. Her long black hair flew wildly in the sea breeze. Although the spirited horse beneath her was almost out of control and even showed a dangerous tendency to retreat towards the edge of the cliff, her face did not show the usual look of fear. Instead, it revealed a stubbornness and aloofness that showed she would fight to the bitter end, her hands tightly gripping the reins.
"Danger!" Secretary Aida exclaimed from the side. If the horse had retreated another ten meters or so, both the rider and the horse would have plunged into the abyss and been smashed to pieces.
However, before Secretary Aida could finish speaking, Kitahara Shin had already darted out like a cheetah.
His speed was astonishing; with the unparalleled body control of [Wild Heart of the West Coast], he covered dozens of meters in the blink of an eye.
Just as the black horse reared up again in a frenzy, and the girl was about to be thrown off its back by the powerful inertia!
Kitahara Shin's figure flashed into the side of the horse like a ghost. Instead of pulling the girl, he suddenly exerted force with both legs, leaping into the air and grabbing the thick leather bridle under the black horse's chin with exceptional precision.
"Quiet!"
Kitahara Shin let out a low, menacing shout. At the same time, the muscles in his arms, enhanced to an inhuman level by the system, bulged instantly, using an irresistible and terrifying force to forcefully press the head of the nearly half-ton raging horse downwards by half a foot!
The black horse sensed the overwhelming, oppressive aura, and a hint of fear flashed in its previously frenzied eyes. It slammed its front hooves heavily onto the grass with a muffled "thud," then snorted uneasily and gradually calmed down.
Only then did the girl on horseback finally regain her balance, breathing slightly heavily.
Kitahara Shinsuke turned off the hood, dusted off his hands, looked up, and his eyes met the girl's.
This is a kind of beauty that is extremely visually striking.
The girl's skin possessed a pale and delicate quality characteristic of European aristocracy, and her features were deep and sculpted. What was most unforgettable were her deep, emerald-like eyes, which exuded a unique charm that was mysterious, aloof, and even carried a hint of Gothic darkness.
"This horse must have twisted its left hind leg on the gravel beach; the fishy smell in the sea breeze aggravated its pain," Kitahara Shin said calmly, looking at her in perfect, accent-free London English. "Forcing it to move under these circumstances is not a wise choice."
The girl looked down at the Asian man who had suddenly appeared in front of her.
She keenly sensed the unique aura emanating from Kitahara Shin. His actions in subduing the wild horse with his bare hands were powerful, yet his demeanor when speaking was so composed and elegant. What surprised her even more was his appearance. His features were handsome and sharp, his eyes as deep and unfathomable as a pool of black water; the dangerous yet alluring hormones he exuded were a hundred times stronger than those of Hollywood male stars who were deliberately cultivated.
"How I discipline my horse is none of your business, uninvited strangers." The girl slightly raised her chin, her tone carrying an innate arrogance. "Besides, Blackwood Island is private property. You've landed on the island without permission, and I can have security throw you into the sea at any time."
"If someone answered the door when I knocked, I wouldn't have come up here myself." Kitahara Shin didn't mind her aloofness, he just smiled slightly, "I'm here to talk to the manager here about a mutually beneficial deal."
The girl glanced at him coldly, a hint of undisguised disgust flashing in her eyes.
In her subconscious, Hollywood film crews were all annoying flies. The skilled man in front of her was probably just an advance bodyguard or negotiator sent by that persistent Asian film company.
"It's those money-grubbing filmmakers again," the girl scoffed without any politeness. "Go back and tell your arrogant Asian boss to stop sending people to bother us. Hollywood trashy film crews don't welcome polluting the air here."
After saying that, the girl gently pulled on the reins, controlling the now-docile black horse, and walked slowly towards the manor without looking back, leaving Kitahara Shin with only a cold and arrogant back view.
"President—this girl is too arrogant." Secretary Aida, who caught up, wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, somewhat indignant.
"That's just how most old-money families in Europe are. Let's go meet the real boss here." Kitahara Shin said dismissively, flicking the straw off his suit jacket and continuing upstairs.
A dozen minutes later, Kitahara Shin was led by an indifferent-looking old butler into the manor's huge study, which was filled with a sense of historical vicissitude.
The study was furnished with extreme luxury, and the walls were covered with old oil paintings and hunting rifles.
However, to Kitahara Shin's surprise, the person sitting behind that large mahogany desk, holding the power of life and death over this island, was not some white-haired old family elder.
It was the girl riding a horse on the edge of the cliff!
She had changed out of her mud-covered riding clothes and into a fine, dark green vintage velvet gown. Her black hair was casually pulled back, and she exuded an undeniable air of mystery and nobility.
Seeing Kitahara Shin walk in, a hint of undisguised surprise flashed in the girl's eyes. Just now at the cliff edge, she had assumed that this young man who had subdued the wild horse with his bare hands was merely a bodyguard or representative sent by the film company. She never imagined that this man with such a powerful aura was actually the "boss of the Asian film company" himself, whom the butler had been complaining about for days.
"Let's get to know each other again, Kitahara Shin." Kitahara Shin calmly pulled out a chair and sat down, meeting her gaze without flinching.
"Eva Green," the girl said, crossing her long legs and leaning back in her chair.
Upon hearing this name, a particularly subtle glint flashed deep within Kitahara Shin's eyes.
Eva Green!
No wonder his gaze seemed so familiar. For the next twenty years, this name will represent Hollywood's unique "dark retro goddess." She is the Venus de Milo in *The Dreamers*, and...
The only Bond girl in Casino Royale who won Bond's heart is also the most perfect heroine in countless Gothic films!
In 1998, she was only eighteen years old and had not yet entered the entertainment industry. She was just a rebellious heiress surrounded by her family's wealth and influence.
Kitahara Shin never expected that while searching for a filming location, he would actually run into this stunningly beautiful woman who would become the most unique woman in Hollywood.
“Mr. Kitahara, your PR team is persistent, but my answer is the same as it was on the edge of the cliff.” Eva Green looked at him, her tone languid and resistant. “I don’t trust you. My family lives in seclusion here to escape the noise of the outside world. If I rent the venue to you, those rude production assistants and actors will trample the lawns and make a mess of the beach. Besides, I don’t think an Asian can make any truly profound Western suspense film.”
You guys should just go back to the studio and shoot those cheaply made videos.
Kitahara Shin was not angry at this rejection, which was based on cultural prejudice and class arrogance.
He leaned forward slightly, his deep gaze like two tangible swords piercing Eva's eyes. In that instant, the oppressive aura of a superior emanating from him was released without reservation.
"Miss Green, don't judge my film with your narrow-minded prejudices." Kitahara Shin's voice was deep and magnetic. "I will not only give you a venue rental fee several times higher than the market price, but I will also sign the most stringent environmental protection agreement. As for depth—the script I brought is an exploration of postwar trauma, schizophrenia, and the abyss of humanity. It is ten thousand times more profound than those pretentious paintings hanging on your wall."
Eva Green was taken aback by Kitahara Shin's sudden and powerful aura.
She looked at the man before her. His features were impeccably handsome, his proportions were perfect, and especially the undeniable confidence and wildness in his eyes stirred a strange and indescribable feeling within her.
The European aristocratic young men she grew up with were either weak and pretentious or arrogant and brainless; while the Hollywood producers were all beer-bellied and full of shrewd calculations.
But Kitahara Shin before him was like a dangerous enigma. He possessed the elegance of an old-fashioned gentleman, the wildness of taming a spirited horse, and now, at the negotiating table, he displayed a kingly domineering presence.
Eva's heart, bound by family rules yet brimming with rebellious spirit, skipped a beat for the first time. A sly glint of interest flashed in her emerald eyes.
"Your attitude is arrogant, Mr. Kitahara." Eva Green narrowed her eyes slightly, her red lips curving into a meaningful smile.
She stood up, walked to the desk, looked down at Kitahara Shin, and suddenly threw out a bargaining chip that caught everyone off guard.
"But I admit, you've successfully piqued my curiosity. I don't care about your rental fee, but I'm very interested in you as a person, or rather, in the confidence behind your arrogance."
Eva placed her hands on the table and leaned close to Kitahara Shin; the two were so close that they could feel each other's breath.
A provocative and alluring smile appeared on her cold, beautiful face: "We can make a bet. If you're willing to spend this weekend alone with me on a date, as long as you can prove on that date that you're not a boring capitalist, and that your soul truly lives up to the profundity you just boasted about."
Eva extended a long, slender, fair finger and gently tapped the table: "Then, I'll take the liberty of lending you this Blackwood Island for three months unconditionally."
Power