mesbooks Chapter 306 Industry Changes
Chapter 306 Industry Changes
Chapter 306 Industry Changes
The phenomenal success of "Resident Evil: Origins" in theaters worldwide not only completely reshaped Kitahara Productions' place in world film history but also propelled Shin Kitahara's reputation to unprecedented heights. He was no longer merely an Asian film mogul but was hailed by Western media as a visual prophet "capable of accurately predicting the future of the film industry."
Faced with a global tidal wave of praise and countless media inquiries, the usually low-profile Nobu Kitahara made a rare exception and granted an exclusive interview to NHK, Japan's highest-profile in-depth interview program. This program was not only broadcast live throughout Japan but also relayed via satellite to major television networks in North America and Europe.
The studio lights were soft and solemn. Sitting opposite Kitahara Shin was Tsukushi Tetsuya, a well-known veteran media personality in Japan, and a host known for his sharp words and insightful perspectives.
"President Kitahara, first of all, congratulations on the phenomenal box office success of 'Resident Evil: Origins' worldwide." Tetsuya Tsukushi bowed slightly before getting straight to the point, "The world is amazed by the groundbreaking visual effects you showcased in the film. Many Hollywood producers have said that your investment of hundreds of millions of dollars to build a private rendering farm was a crazy gamble that ignored market principles. May I ask, what were you thinking when you made that decision?"
Shin Kitahara, dressed in a well-tailored dark bespoke suit, leaned back on the sofa in a relaxed posture, his deep gaze looking through the camera lens as if he were looking at the whole world.
"I don't see this as a gamble, Mr. Tsukushi. I prefer to call it an investment that aligns with the times." Kitahara Shin's voice was steady and magnetic, exuding an undeniable confidence. "Many people, when watching movies, only see what the current market needs. But what I see is what audiences will need a thousand years from now. With the development of computer graphics technology, movies shouldn't just be limited to recording reality; they should create spectacles that don't exist in reality. The future trend of movies will inevitably be a high degree of integration between visual spectacle and emotional resonance. My heavy investment in the special effects industry stems from my firm belief that in the near future, high-quality CGI effects will become the absolute pillar supporting the global film industry. Whoever masters the most advanced visual production capabilities will control the future of the big screen."
Tetsuya Tsukushi keenly caught the sharp edge in Kitahara Shin's words. He pushed up his glasses and posed a pointed question that was highly controversial in the film and television industry today.
"But President Kitahara, some traditional figures in the film industry see your ideas as very dangerous." Tetsuya Tsukushi's expression turned serious. "Many veteran performing artists and critics worry that if future films are filled with these cool special effects and huge explosions, won't the audience's aesthetic sense be completely distorted? If people buy tickets to go to the cinema just to see computer-generated monsters and visual stimulation, then what about the actors' acting skills? Won't this over-reliance on special effects destroy the soul of performing arts?"
The moment the question was posed, the entire studio seemed to fall silent. Countless viewers, actors, and film critics in front of their televisions held their breath, awaiting the answer from the giant who had single-handedly ushered in the era of special effects blockbusters.
Upon hearing this, Kitahara Shin was not angry at all; instead, he let out a calm chuckle.
"Mr. Tsukushi, I think this is a completely false proposition. Special effects and acting skills have never been opposing enemies." Kitahara Shin leaned forward slightly, his eyes flashing with a penetrating power.
"Some people think that special effects can overshadow acting skills, but that's because they misunderstand the term 'good actor.' What makes a good actor? A good actor isn't someone who can only showcase their talent on a rudimentary stage or in a dilapidated, drafty room."
Truly excellent actors are those who can adapt to all sorts of changing environments and eras!
Kitahara Shin's words, like a resounding bell, vibrated in everyone's ears with the amplification of the live broadcast signal.
"When film transitioned from black and white to color, some said color would rob the audience of their focus on the plot; when film went from silent to sound, others stood up and wept, saying it was murdering the physical art of silent films. But what was the result? Time marches on, those actors who couldn't adapt to new technologies were eliminated, while those who knew how to use color and sound to elevate their performances became the new masters!"
"Special effects are a vast canvas. When our industrial technology can infinitely enlarge this canvas, even to depict cosmic stars and deep-sea dragons, the demands on actors don't decrease, but rather increase! You must possess a stronger core and a more extreme sense of conviction to make the audience believe in your fear, your anger, and your love in front of a green screen, facing a computer-generated monster that doesn't even exist!"
Kitahara Shin's gaze hardened: "Don't be afraid of changes in external factors. To follow the times, adapt to the times, and even lead the times—this is what we, as actors, as creators, and even as people in any industry, should do! Only the weak complain about their environment; the strong always utilize it!"
These words seemed to shake the entire world.
In front of their televisions, countless young actors, bewildered by industry changes, listened with fervor, their eyes welling with tears. Kitahara Shin's state at that moment perfectly mirrored that of his character, the domineering yet philosophically insightful lawyer Sakuragi Kenji, from the phenomenal drama "Dragon Zakura." He wasn't just answering a question about film technology; he was pointing out a path forward for Japanese society, bewildered by the bubble economy, and indeed for the global entertainment industry, a path to a breakthrough.
His current status and achievements lend his words unquestionable authority. Looking at the man on the screen, so commanding and insightful, everyone genuinely felt that he was the leader holding the torch high, guiding the entire industry forward at breakneck speed.
The success of Resident Evil and this impactful interview have quietly changed the landscape of the world film and television industry.
The arrogant traditional studios in Hollywood finally bowed their heads. They not only took the initiative to import many of Kitahara's past works, but the presidents of the major giants also personally flew to Tokyo with great sincerity, wanting to invite the Kitahara Group to directly set up a branch or core special effects team in Hollywood, and even promised to provide the most generous production treatment and venue support.
To many, this is the highest honor for entering the world's entertainment center.
However, Kitahara Shin refused without hesitation.
His reasons were very practical and straightforward. Entering Hollywood sounded glamorous, but it meant he would need to transfer a massive amount of capital to the United States. The American tax system and labor union system are notoriously exploitative; the complex tax audits and high operating costs would easily eat up a large portion of his hard-earned profits.
Moreover, Kitahara Shin's roots are in Asia. He's currently based in Tokyo, and with his capital and prescient vision, he's already the undisputed "uncrowned king" of East and Southeast Asia. The money he earns here is far more comfortable than being controlled by others in Hollywood. He wants to make Japan his content export hub, turn all of Asia into his backyard, and then directly dump his "finished products" into the European and American markets, reaping the purest profits.
After temporarily shelving offers from Hollywood, Kitahara Shin did not stop there. While the film industry was achieving groundbreaking breakthroughs, he turned his attention to another important piece of the entertainment puzzle: live music.
His two close female confidantes, Akina Nakamori and Izumi Sakai, are now legendary divas in the Asian music scene.
Shin Kitahara astutely recognized a major shortcoming in concerts of that era. While the singers' vocal abilities were impeccable, in 1998 and even into the early 21st century, the vast majority of concert stage designs remained in a very primitive stage: a few stiff spotlights, rudimentary smoke machines, and a few painted backdrops. Such crude lighting designs simply could not fully unleash the awe-inspiring stage presence of the two divas.
"If you're going to play, play it to the extreme."
Shin Kitahara established a dedicated "Stage Technology Lab." He began pouring money into the field, recruiting top optical engineers, sound experts, and digital programming designers from around the world. He wanted to break the traditional concert concept and forcefully incorporate Hollywood-level visual effects technology, rudiments of holographic projection, and computer-programmed matrix lighting into Akina and Izumi's performances.
He wanted his woman to have a unique and dreamlike dominance on stage, capable of crushing all her peers to dust!
Of course, while spending lavishly on upgrading equipment, Kitahara Shin also seized every opportunity to multiply his wealth.
At a closed-door meeting of senior Asian investors led by SoftBank Group, Nobuyuki Kitahara met Masayoshi Son, known as the "investment fanatic." Meanwhile, on the fringes of that meeting, a young Chinese English teacher with an unusual appearance and fluent English was peddling his outlandish business plan called "B2B e-commerce."
Here, the gears of history have met in a wondrous way.
Kitahara Shin didn't use his prophetic vision to kick aside Masayoshi Son and choose to swallow this future trillion-dollar pie alone. As a seasoned chaebol leader, he knew very well that "spoiling" was a foolish act that would breed resentment in top-tier capital circles. Moreover, Alibaba did indeed need the endorsement of Son's connections in the international internet world during its early development.
So, Kitahara Shin simply smiled, pulled up a chair, and sat opposite Son Masayoshi and the young Jack Ma. After a brief but efficient negotiation, the Kitahara Group and SoftBank Group reached a joint investment agreement. Kitahara Shin, at an extremely low price, split the first round of massive venture capital investment in Alibaba with Son Masayoshi.
With just a casual investment, Kitahara Shin secured a super VIP ticket to the highest board of directors of the future Chinese Internet empire.
Everything is developing rapidly towards the most perfect and prosperous direction.
Beneath this vast capital and entertainment empire, Kitahara Shin still retains his own unique sense of romance.
Two weeks later, at the Tokyo Dome.
Akina Nakamori's new nationwide tour is set to kick off here in two days. But tonight, the huge venue, which can hold 50,000 people, is completely empty and so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Because the entire Tokyo Dome has been completely cleared out and booked by Shin Kitahara.
The venue was pitch black. Kitahara Shin held Nakamori Akina's soft hand and led her step by step to the VIP inner area center, which was closest to the stage.
"Shin, what exactly are you going to show me?" Akina was wearing a comfortable beige trench coat today, her long hair casually draped over her shoulders. Her beautiful, clear eyes, like those of a doe, looked somewhat lost in the darkness, her voice carrying a hint of coquettishness and curiosity. "You've been so secretive lately, not even letting me see the venue for rehearsals, and you've ordered all the staff to keep it a secret from me. A proposal doesn't have to be this dramatic, does it? It's pitch black in here; I can't even see the edge of the stage."
Kitahara Shin stopped and turned around, precisely cupping her delicate face in the darkness.
"I told you, I'd give you a unique stage." Kitahara Shin's voice sounded exceptionally gentle in the empty venue, yet it carried an air of absolute control. He smiled as he gazed at Akina's eyes, which shimmered in the dim light, and said softly, "Now, obediently close your eyes."
Although Akina was filled with doubt, she obediently closed her eyes. She had an unconditional and absolute trust in the man before her.
Kitahara Shin raised his hand and snapped his fingers crisply at the chief engineer hidden in the control room at the highest point.
"start up."
"boom--!
""
It wasn't the sound of lights being turned on, but a shocking wave of sound like a starry sea being poured out! The top-of-the-line matrix spatial sound system, custom-made in Germany by the Kitahara Group at great expense, first released an ethereal musical prelude.
Immediately afterward, Kitahara Shin whispered in Akina's ear, "You can open your eyes now."
The moment Akina Nakamori slowly opened her eyes, she froze completely, as if struck by a spell. She covered her mouth tightly, her eyes instantly reddening.
So stunning! So beautiful!
That was nothing like the makeshift stages she had imagined, constructed with a few spotlights and confetti.
Directly in front of her, a dreamlike stage, built at a cost of hundreds of millions of yen and a full twenty years ahead of its time, suddenly awoke like a sleeping ice behemoth.
Behind the stage were several enormous, ultra-high-definition, seamless curved LED screens. On these screens, incredibly realistic images of the deep sea and the changing stars and ocean were playing.
As the music rose and fell, hundreds of fully computer-controlled laser lights intertwined in mid-air to create a huge and dazzling three-dimensional light net. What made Akina even more breathtaking was that at the very center of the stage, an expensive water screen projection system used the principle of optical refraction to conjure up giant blue roses that were slowly blooming in the air.
Light and shadow intertwine, stars twinkle, and mist permeates the air.
The beams of light seemed to come alive, dancing gracefully in Akina's vision. The entire Tokyo Dome was transformed by this god-like lighting system into a dreamlike universe defying the forces of reality. And she, standing at the center of the stage, would be the one and only, the most dazzling queen in this universe.
This is a miracle that Kitahara Shinbo created for her with money, technology, and absolute love.
"How is it? Are you satisfied with this gift?" Kitahara Shin gently wrapped his arms around Akina's slender waist from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. Looking at the dazzling sea of light before him, a gentle smile played on his lips. "From now on, every time you perform on stage, you'll see this dreamlike scene. I want the whole world to know that Nakamori Akina's stage will forever be the most unique spectacle on this planet."
Upon hearing this, Akina could no longer control her emotions.
Tears of emotion welled up and streamed down her delicate face. She turned around abruptly and threw herself into Kitahara Shin's arms, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.
Beneath this grand and romantic starry sky, which belonged only to the two of them, Akina tiptoed and, with all her love and emotion, pressed her soft red lips heavily onto Kitahara Shin's lips.
After giving Akina an unparalleled dream night, Kitahara Shin's business acumen did not stop for a moment.
While the allure of a secluded paradise was intoxicating, his gaze remained fixed on the far-reaching and expansive empire.
A few days later, the atmosphere in the top-floor conference room of the Kitahara Group headquarters in Chiyoda Ward was extremely heavy. Apart from Secretary Aida, several core executives from Kitahara Productions' film and television development department, talent agency department, and overseas distribution department were all sitting upright.
Kitahara Shin sat in the main seat and threw a thick proposal onto the large conference table.
"The phenomenal success of 'Boys Over Flowers' proves our ability to create stars and our precise control over the market. But, everyone, don't let the immediate profits blind you." Kitahara Shin's long, slender fingers tapped lightly on the table, his voice steady yet sharp. "Actors, to put it bluntly, are products of the film and television industry's assembly line. As long as we have top-notch scripts and the best publicity resources, we can make one F4 famous today, and tomorrow we can create a hundred more Takuya Kimura and Kou Shibasaki."
He paused, a hint of deep ambition flashing in his eyes.
"But in the future battlefield of cinema, what truly changes the game, what determines whether a film company can become a century-old empire, is never the actors, but the brain."
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"The brain I'm referring to is the director."
The executives present exchanged glances, and Secretary Aida immediately understood Kitahara Shin's meaning, respectfully asking, "Does the president mean we should begin a large-scale recruitment of experienced directors?"
"No, there's no point in poaching those old fogies who've been assimilated by the traditional studio system and whose thinking is rigid," Kitahara Shin rejected without hesitation. "What I want is to build a matrix of young directors belonging to our Kitahara Foundation. I'm going to launch a director support program called 'Rising Stars' across Asia. Whether they're making short films, coming-of-age movies, or even just being an assistant director on a film set, as long as they have outrageous ideas that are ahead of their time, Kitahara Productions will provide them with funding, the best special effects team, and even absolute creative freedom!"
Kitahara Shin was well aware of his current situation. He was indeed a "genius," but his talent came from the prophetic perspective of a time traveler. Human energy is ultimately limited; he couldn't possibly direct or write the script for every masterpiece himself.
If Kitahara Productions wants to create a massive and continuously growing industrialized production chain like the Marvel Cinematic Universe or the six major Hollywood studios in the next twenty years, it must have its own large number of talented directors.
What he wants to do is not to be a general fighting alone, but to become a "god" sitting on the throne and commanding countless genius directors!
"There's no budget limit. Spread the word about this support program throughout Asia through our distribution channels." Kitahara Shin gave the final instruction. "I want all the talented but unappreciated young people to know that the Kitahara Foundation is the only sacred place for them to realize their ambitions."
In just half a month, the "New Stars Take Flight" program was like a thunderclap, completely igniting the grassroots film and television industry across Asia.
In an instant, thousands of short videotapes, script outlines, and lengthy self-recommendation letters from Japan, South Korea, Hong Kong, Taiwan, and even Southeast Asia poured into the headquarters of the Kitahara Group like snowflakes.
The film and television development department's review team works around the clock, screening through mountains of documents and finally sending scripts and resumes with a few bright spots to Kitahara Shin's desk.
That afternoon, Kitahara Shin was sitting in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling window, flipping through a stack of overseas director candidate files that had just been delivered that day.
Most of the manuscripts were still full of immature and illogical, pointless complaints. Kitahara Shin rejected more than a dozen in a row. Just when he was feeling a bit bored, a document from Seoul, South Korea, caught his attention.
It was a rough outline of a short film script and a VHS tape with very poor picture quality.
The script is called "Kidnapping the Door Dog".
Upon seeing the somewhat absurd and darkly humorous name, Kitahara Shin abruptly paused in his page-turning motion. He quickly shifted his gaze downwards to the director's name, Bong Joon-ho, which was displayed in both Korean and Chinese characters on the information sheet.
Kitahara Shin's pupils contracted sharply, his previously casual posture instantly straightened, and his heartbeat accelerated uncontrollably by half a beat!
It was him!
At the end of the 20th century, this name wouldn't even make a ripple in the Asian film and television industry. But in the eyes of Kitahara Shin, who possessed a futuristic perspective, this name was an invaluable treasure radiating dazzling light!
Who is that?
That was in the future, when he used "Memories of Murder" to completely establish the pinnacle of Korean crime thrillers, used "Snowpiercer" to go head-to-head with the Western industrial system, and finally used "Parasite" to sweep four Oscar awards: Best Picture, Best Director, Best Original Screenplay, and Best International Feature Film, completely shattering the Oscar ceiling that had stood for non-English films for over ninety years!
He was the key figure in Asian film history who truly accomplished the feat of "slaying gods" in the heart of Hollywood!
Kitahara Shin's mind was racing.
What is Bong Joon-ho doing now, since 1998?
The information clearly states that this young man, who had just graduated from the Korean Film Academy less than two years ago, was 29 years old this year. At that time, the Korean film industry was in its nascent and chaotic stage. Bong Joon-ho had no funds or connections and could only squeeze into a cramped and damp semi-basement in Seoul with his wife, barely making ends meet by writing some fragmented scripts for others and doing odd jobs.
His dark humor and profound insight into social classes were seen as incomprehensible "box office poison" by South Korean capital at that time.
"Found it."
Kitahara Shin closed the rough resume, a barely suppressed look of elation and ambition playing on his lips.
For a genius of this caliber, what does he need most right now? Appreciation! Resources that will free him from worries about basic necessities! Absolute trust that will allow him to skip the setbacks, compromises, and even the failure of his first film in his previous life, and directly realize his talent as a timeless masterpiece!
And all of these, now incredibly wealthy Kitahara Shin, can provide!
If, during this most desperate period of decline, an olive branch is extended to this future Oscar-winning director, Bong Joon-ho will be utterly devoted to him. This is not merely signing a promising director; it's installing a heavy railgun—a weapon powerful enough to blast open Hollywood's highest hall of honor—onto the Bukwon Group's chariot!
"Secretary Aida!"
Kitahara Shin abruptly pressed the communicator on his desk, his voice filled with an unusual urgency and excitement.
"President, what can I do for you?" Secretary Aida immediately pushed open the door and entered.
"Put down everything you're working on." Kitahara Shin grabbed the document with "Bong Joon-ho" on it and slammed it on the table. "You have three hours to prepare. Immediately bring your legal team and translator and book me the fastest flight to Seoul."
Secretary Aida paused for a moment, then asked, "Seoul? President, is there some urgent acquisition going on there?"
"Ten thousand times more important than the acquisition." Kitahara Shin's eyes were blazing, his tone carrying an undeniable domineering air. "Go to this address and find a young man named Bong Joon-ho in a semi-basement in Seoul."
"Tell him that I've read his script. Not only will I fully fund his production of 'Barking Dogs Never Bite,' but I'll also sign him to a long-term exclusive directorial contract."
Kitahara Shin walked up to Aida's secretary, patted him on the shoulder, and said, word by word, "Go to Seoul. No matter how dire his financial situation is right now, and no matter what creative demands he makes, just slam a top-tier director's contract and a blank check on his desk. Tell him that the Kitahara Group will be his strongest backing from now on!"
Although Secretary Aida was shocked, he couldn't understand why an unknown, poor Korean boy would warrant such a huge investment from the company president, even with such an outrageous condition as a "blank check." However, his years of professional experience prevented him from asking any further questions.
"Understood, President. I will definitely bring him back to Tokyo safe and sound!"
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