MTL - Hollywood Lover-Chapter 1 I don't want to play football!
On March 27, 1995, in London, England, a group of homing pigeons flew over the ancient London Film Academy under the rare blue sky and white clouds.
In the classroom, there were more than 20 students who were whispering to each other or drawing on the paper. The fat Hebrew teacher came in with a stack of test papers, with a big belly, stepping on the class bell.
"I want to tell you a good news. The test results of "Film Theory" have come out!" A smile flashed in his eyes: "There is another bad news, everyone's exams are as bad as before!
"Oh, no, my God!" The students put their hands on their foreheads, looked at the countless crosses on the paper in front of them, and lamented.
"But this at least proves that you didn't cheat, you are really good boys!" Hebrew smiled slightly, touched the head of a student beside him, and walked quickly to the podium.
Out of curiosity, each student peeked at the test papers of other students, trying to know that he was not the worst one.
"Did that Chinese take the first place again this time, what about Smith, Zhang Dongcheng?" A voice came from the corner.
Following these words, everyone's eyes turned to the boy sitting at the end, who was alone.
The boy whose Chinese name is Zhang Dongcheng and English name is Smith is about 20 years old. He has black eyes and black hair, a typical oriental appearance. Old-fashioned black-rimmed glasses.
Zhang Dongcheng's clothes are also very ordinary, but he tidied up relatively cleanly. He shrank back unnaturally when he heard someone calling his name maliciously.
"Hey, Chinese boy, show me your paper." A tall British boy with a huge hooked nose turned his head and said to Zhang Dongcheng, and then unceremoniously snatched the paper from his desk .
Take a closer look, but it is a bright and eye-catching "A"!
Looking at the shameful "B-" on his paper, the hooked-nosed boy snorted in displeasure, and rudely threw the paper back to Zhang Dongcheng, but the paper did not return to Zhang Dongcheng's hand, but landed halfway.
Looking at the hooked-nosed boy who was obviously playing tricks on him, Zhang Dongcheng gritted his teeth and stood up, as if he wanted to say something, but after a long while, he still lowered his head sadly, and silently picked up the paper.
Seeing that the prank was successful, the hooked-nosed boy whistled loudly proudly.
Seeing them like this, everyone knows that Zhang Dongcheng took the first place in the film theory test again this time.
"Hey, I said Teacher Hebrew, did you make a mistake? This guy Smith gets a B every time in the screenwriting test, but why does he get first in other subjects every time? Is it because you leaked the test questions to him in advance, or is he Incarnation of the Thief? Everyone knows that there has never been a famous person of yellow race in the director industry, there is no reason why Smith did better than us in the exam!" Someone asked dissatisfiedly, looking at Zhang Dongcheng with mocking eyes.
"That's right, there must be ghosts here, why is it always an A? I study so hard to be an A-! The director talked about cultural literacy, ideological accumulation, imagination and creativity. This is not a mathematics department, a physics department, a yellow species People's talent can't be compared to this." Seeing someone in the early stage, some people stood up aggressively, waving their arms as if they had been wronged and insulted by Nuo Da, venting their dissatisfaction.
For a while, there was a lot of discussion in the classroom, like a handful of salt sprinkled in a boiling oil pan.
Zhang Dongcheng, who was in the center of the storm, just sat quietly, his face flushed slightly, but he kept silent, as if the students were blaming someone else.
It's just that those black eyes are not the same as Luo Mo who was ridiculed by others, they are still so bright.
"Students, be quiet. Mr. Smith is still very hardworking and serious in his studies, and he has quite unique insights into movies. I can swear on my wife's flowery pants, I have no behind-the-scenes dealings with Mr. Smith!" Teacher Hebrew The words caused a burst of laughter, and the humorous language also made several emotional students sit down.
"Okay, everyone, open your books. This semester will be over soon, and I will spend less time with my classmates. I want to cherish the time with you guys and girls. Let's start Let's go to class!"
This remark brought laughter again.
Zhang Dongcheng looked at the test paper in front of him, on which was the big footprint of that hooked-nosed boy called Ender. He just silently folded the test paper and put it in his schoolbag, then took out his glasses cloth and wiped the black frame carefully. Glasses, breathing deeply, let the heaving chest gradually return to calm, and then listened carefully to the teacher Hebrew's lecture, as if everything just didn't happen at all.
Graduating soon, Zhang Dongcheng wants to have a certificate for his college career, so he has been enduring, but this does not mean that he will always endure.
Soon, this difficult class ended, and the students rushed out of the classroom like a tide as they stepped on the bell.
Zhang Dongcheng packed his schoolbag. The first place in the class did not make him happy. He walked out of the classroom slowly until he was under the blue sky and white clouds. Then he took a deep breath of fresh air and let his footsteps be casual.
Fortunately, tomorrow is the weekend, and I can finally have two days without looking at Ender's hateful face.
After leaving the school and taking the bus for almost an hour, Zhang Dongcheng came to his place of residence, which was a very old villa in a relatively remote suburb of London.
This is the house of a distant relative, a cousin who can only play eight poles. In order to save money to go to school, although Zhang Dongcheng is very reluctant to be nagged by his cousin who is somewhat powerful and always raises his eyebrows and eyes day after day , but still live here in humiliation.
My cousin felt very sorry for me who was studying alone, but my aunt was not so friendly anymore. As soon as Zhang Dongcheng entered the door, his voice with a local accent sounded an octave higher, and he was very angry.
"Zhang Dongcheng, hurry up and mop the floor upstairs. If you don't mop the dust all over the place for a day, how can this be a place where people live? It's as dirty as a pig's nest! Hurry up!"
Her hair was permed into an afro, she was wearing fat pajamas, her eyes were darkened from lack of sleep, and she was a typical shrewd woman standing in front of Zhang Dongcheng with a dripping mop. with.
"Understood, auntie." Zhang Dongcheng didn't dare to hesitate, immediately put down his schoolbag, took the mop, and ran upstairs to mop the floor vigorously.
"Here are your letters. There are hundreds of them. My inbox is almost full! It's a pity that they are all rejection letters from the film crew! I don’t even give you a job! Zhang Dongcheng, Zhang Dongcheng, why do you have a feverish brain and learn to be a director? It’s great to learn finance from your cousin! After graduation, you can find a white-collar job so you can stay in the UK! Look at you These rejection letters, I think you are really burnt out by your own dreams!" The voice of the cousin downstairs continued, bombarding like a loudspeaker, all the time.
"Did the film crew send me a letter?" Zhang Dongcheng was slightly taken aback, and ran downstairs in three steps at a time, picking up the letters piled up on the dining table like a hill, as if he was holding the most important things in his life, and quickly ran back upstairs.
"Don't watch it, I've said it all! No film crew is willing to use you, no film director is willing to give you a chance, and no film-related job is waiting for you!" The aunt's voice was as sharp as chalk. It was so harsh like a blackboard that Zhang Dongcheng wanted to cover his ears.
Sitting on the floor with his back against the cold wall, Zhang Dongcheng stared blankly at the more than one hundred letters that had been opened in front of him, and suddenly felt very tired.
Carrying the seemingly brilliant but in fact extremely difficult dream, Zhang Dongcheng struggled. He didn't know when, being ridiculed by others, his directionless dream would fall down like an avalanche, crushing himself to pieces.
Open a letter with harsh words: Dear Mr. Smith, sorry, your personal conditions have not yet met the requirements of the crew...
Sighing, he opened another one, with the same tone of voice, all speaking of the fact that his hard work and persistence were in vain.
The seals of more than a hundred letters in front of me were all torn apart by my cousin's hands, and the cuts were criss-crossed and ferocious. This simple action told Zhang Dongcheng how much she was not optimistic about her future.
Hanging his head against the wall, Zhang Dongcheng felt a little helpless. He habitually took deep breaths, as if this would relieve some of the burden on his mind and make his gradually cold heart feel better.
He didn't give up. Although every time he saw a rejection, his confidence would sink further, but Zhang Dongcheng still had a ten-thousandth hope. He read every letter carefully, hoping that there would be a miracle. There is a film crew who can tell themselves that they are willing to give themselves a chance.
However, a miracle is a miracle, it is not so easy to happen.
Lowering his head and stuffing them all into the trash can, Zhang Dongcheng suddenly felt a little sour, but he quickly raised his head and looked at the ceiling, resisting the endless loss and confusion in his heart, and breathing hard.
I love movies, I want to make movies, I will let my name appear in this world, movies are my dream, my only dream!
Sniffing vigorously, Zhang Dongcheng picked up the mop and mopped the ground with all his strength, as if he wanted to throw the helplessness, frustration and disappointment in his heart into a bucket full of soap bubbles.
Sweating profusely and listening to more than a dozen heavy metal rock songs, Zhang Dongcheng looked at the clean and beautiful home in front of him, and finally put all his troubles behind him.
"If you want to learn directing, go to the United States, come to the UK to learn directing, your head is really caught by the door!" The cousin downstairs is still chattering, even though she has been busy for two hours, she is still there. Falling on myself.
"Even if it's learning football, if you can be a striker in Arsenal, you can have millions of pounds a year!"
Hey, who doesn't know that the director's school must be good in the United States, USC Film Academy, New York Film Academy, which one is not well-known in the world, but who told me that I have no relatives, no friends there, and feel sorry for the parents of their children So I decided to arrange myself to come to England.
I want to be a director, I don't want to play football!
