noveldepot Chapter 62 Los Angeles and Dialogue
Chapter 62 Los Angeles and Dialogue
As the Boeing 747 flew directly from Beijing to Los Angeles, it crossed the horizon at dawn and dusk. Outside the window, the azure blue of the Pacific Ocean was gradually replaced by the earthy yellow of the California coastline and the gray-white of reinforced concrete.
Lin Ruiyang sat in a window seat in business class, holding a copy of yesterday's Hollywood Reporter.
This summer, the North American film market is in a state of frenzy known as a blockbuster frenzy.
Christopher Nolan's "Batman Begins" was released a week ago, officially ushering in the dark and realistic era of DC movies. It grossed nearly 50 million US dollars in its opening weekend. Although it did not have the explosive success of the superhero movies of the previous two years, its reputation has been abuzz among film critics.
Following closely behind is "Mr. & Mrs. Smith," whose scandal involving Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie has generated more buzz than the film itself. This action-comedy remains firmly in the top three in its third week of release in North America, and its global box office is approaching $3 million.
Meanwhile, "War of the Worlds," directed by Steven Spielberg and starring Tom Cruise, is set to hit theaters in early July. Paramount's promotional campaign is overwhelming, and the giant tripod alien mech seems poised to dominate the entire summer movie season.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, the Chinese film market is also in turmoil, undergoing a silent reshuffling.
On June 23, "Initial D" officially opened in theaters nationwide. Jay Chou's screen debut, coupled with a racing theme, saw its box office soar to 21 million yuan in its opening weekend, overwhelming all other films released at the same time.
This film is creating a drifting craze across Asia, with daily box office records being broken continuously.
Following closely behind, "Seven Swords" was scheduled for release on July 29th, and a promotional offensive was launched, with Xu Ke's name and the slogan of the revival of martial arts being repeatedly bombarded in the media.
Under the leadership of Han Sanping, China Film Group is promoting the commercialization of domestic films with an unprecedented pace.
Lin Ruiyang put away the newspaper and rubbed his slightly dry eyes.
The plane began its descent, and the vibrations from the landing gear lowering sent shivers down his spine. In the moments before landing, his thoughts involuntarily drifted back to the phone call he'd received from Han Sanping before his departure.
The Toronto International Film Festival has officially been finalized.
On September 15th, Zhao Shi led the team. He was a representative of young directors and the only one in the delegation who was selected in an official capacity but did not have any works to participate in the exhibition.
Lin Ruiyang didn't say much at the time.
He mentally rehearsed the schedule: filming would begin in New York in July, and he would take two days off in mid-September to fly to Toronto and back, a red-eye flight. He would lose one filming day in between, but it wouldn't have a big impact. Besides, he remembered that Meryl would also be going to Toronto at that time.
The vibrations from the wheels rubbing against the ground pulled him back to reality.
Los Angeles, a city brimming with dreams and decay, awaits his second visit.
The arrival hall at Los Angeles International Airport is filled with the smells of coffee, duty-free perfume, and new carpets.
Roger Sutherland was already waiting at the exit. He handed me the coffee and took the suitcase handle.
"The car is parked in the parking lot across the street." Roger led Lin Ruiyang out.
"Brian has arranged everything. Tomorrow at 10 a.m., Malibu Beach, McConnell's house."
Lin Ruiyang got into the passenger seat and put the coffee on the cup holder.
"Brian told me something on the phone." Roger started the car, turned the steering wheel, and drove out of the parking lot.
"He said he had known Matthew for ten years and had never seen him prepare for any role like this. Brian once went to his house late at night and found him lying on the living room floor with his headphones on and the tape recorder running at the end of the tape, clicking away."
He was mimicking Ron's way of speaking, the way he trailed off the last syllable of a word, unlike the rising intonation of a Texas accent.
Roger turned onto the highway entrance to Century City, and the Eagles were playing the outro of "Hotel California" on the radio.
Lin Ruiyang closed his eyes, letting the sunlight from the window filter through his eyelids, turning into a warm orange glow. He wondered what different changes Matthew, who had made his decision a few years earlier, had undergone.
The following morning, Malibu Beach.
Roger parked his car outside the iron gate of a Spanish-style villa.
The iron gate was open, and standing in the doorway was not Brian, but Matthew McConaughey himself.
He was barefoot, his trousers rolled up to his calves, wearing a faded T-shirt, and his hair was messily pulled back. His cheekbones protruded from below his cheeks, and the ends of his collarbones were clearly visible inside the neckline. The fabric of the T-shirt hung loosely on his shoulders.
The muscles that seemed to have been drawn from ancient Greek sculptures have disappeared. The man standing in front of the iron gate doesn't look like a Hollywood star; he looks like an electrician who has just driven ten hours from rural Texas to Los Angeles.
"You arrived ahead of schedule," Matthew said, his voice even hoarser than the last time he spoke on the phone.
"You're lighter than last time," Lin Ruiyang said.
The two stared at each other for a moment through the iron gate, the waves crashing against the beach behind them, one after another.
Matthew stepped aside to make way for the doorway. "Come in. There's only chicken breast and egg whites in the fridge, but I can make you a cup of coffee."
The living room curtains were all drawn, leaving only a slit. The morning sunlight from Malibu cut through that slit, casting a thin strip of light on the floor.
An old-fashioned cassette recorder sat on the coffee table, its headphone cord tangled in a ball, and several cassette tapes with dates written on their labels were piled up next to it.
While Matthew went to the kitchen to make coffee, Lin Ruiyang squatted down in front of the coffee table and picked up a cassette tape.
The label reads: 1992, Ron Woodruff, Dallas. The edges of the cassette case are worn white from repeated handling.
"Craig sent them to me," Matthew said, coming out with two cups of coffee.
"He made a complete copy of the recordings of his interview with Ron, more than twenty hours of tape, and I played one tape every day."
"You're imitating the way he speaks."
"Because he's a man sentenced to death, he doesn't have the extra strength to raise the pitch of his words when he speaks." Matthew pushed one of the coffee cups across the coffee table and sat down on the sofa.
Lin Ruiyang didn't sit down. He picked up the rough-edged script, flipped directly to a page in the second half, and pressed his fingertip on a line of dialogue.
"Ron Woodruff's line in court, 'AZT is poison, HIV does not cause AIDS,' does not reflect Ron Woodruff's personal stance."
Matthew's hand, holding the coffee cup, froze in mid-air, a look of confusion on his face.
"When I had my lawyer do a copyright investigation, I also checked the revision history of the original script. This line wasn't in Craig Bowden's first draft in 1992; the problem was with co-writer Melissa Warlake, who got involved later."
She included some AIDS denialist viewpoints in the script. These weren't based on interviews with Ron himself, but rather used his words to express her own views. Ron did indeed go to Mexico to find alternative medications due to the severe side effects of AZT, but he never claimed that HIV couldn't cause AIDS. These two things are fundamentally different.
Lin Ruiyang turned to another page.
"This project has been rejected too many times. Every production company has read the script, but not every one of them is willing to spend the time to investigate the stance behind the lines."
If someone discovers this, it will no longer be a story about survival, but a target that can be attacked at any time.
Matthew's face was filled with disbelief: "Then how did you find out?"
"In a 1992 interview, Ron Woodruff said, 'I'm not fighting the FDA, I'm looking for something that will keep me alive for another day.' He didn't believe in any ideology; he only believed in his own fate."
Lin Ruiyang closed the script: "I will contact Craig to confirm the revision of this line, and remove those positions that do not belong to Ron from his mouth."
"I listen to these tapes every day. I hear his anger and his despair, but I never question the logic behind these lines."
Matthew chuckled self-deprecatingly.
"We're filming a jerk who just wants to survive, not a public opinion leader standing on a pedestal."
Stripped of its false slogans, Ron Woodruff's character becomes more authentic and powerful. We want the audience to see the struggle of life itself, not cheap medical conspiracy theories.
Matthew raised his head, and for the first time, a light of conviction shone in his deep-set eyes.
"When can we see the new lines?" Matthew's voice held a hint of urgency; he couldn't wait to delve into this more authentic character.
"Soon. But you'll have to keep fighting fat this week. I want a completely dried-up Texas gambler with death at his throat."
Lin Ruiyang glanced at his phone; it was Roger reminding him of his flight time to New York.
"I'm going to New York to oversee the start of filming for 'The Queen,' Matthew. Don't make me go to the hospital in Los Angeles to see you before this movie wraps up."
Matthew put his headphones back on, pressed play, and said in a hoarse but unusually firm voice, "Don't worry, I definitely won't die before your camera yells 'Action' at me."