I Forged the Myth of the Ancient Overlords
Chapter 153 - 153 152. Dont look down on college students uncle_1

Chapter 153: 152. Don’t look down on college students, uncle_1 Chapter 153: 152. Don’t look down on college students, uncle_1 The film festivals in this world were not much different from those in Lu Ban’s original world.

In Europe, the three major film festivals were mostly held during the summer each year, with several important annual film awards taking place in the spring of March and April. By autumn, smaller domestic festivals like the Jiangcheng Film Festival would wrap up. After October, film exhibitions and festivals entered the off-season.

The closest and biggest one at the moment was the Miskatonic Film Festival in North America, located in Massachusetts. It mainly awarded sci-fi and fantasy films and selected its winners before Christmas in December every year.

But the submission process for this festival had ended, and Lu Ban wasn’t about to pay extra to insert his own entry. Moreover, the bigger the festival, the tougher the competition would be, and the lower the chances of winning—an unfavorable situation for Lu Ban’s career mission.

Too small a festival, like the Chenghua Boulevard Film Festival, might not even fit the definition of a major film festival and might not have any awards at all.

After researching, Lu Ban quickly found a suitable festival, the Yannan University Student Film Festival.

As the capital, Yannan was a hub of human traffic. The Yannan University Student Film Festival was held every November and was the only event in the country aimed at university students. It rewarded not only young directors and actors but also included awards for student works to encourage them to join the film industry.

This festival also depended on public judges, namely the college students themselves. Aside from academic awards, such as Best Actor and Actress, Best Director, there were also popularity awards. Lu Ban felt that even if he didn’t snag Best Actor, he could at least pick up something like the Most Popular Film award. It was a perfect match for this festival!

What was more important was the timeliness of university student works. The submission deadline for the festival was quite late, all the way at the end of October, allowing Lu Ban plenty of time to apply.

Some might say, Lu Ban, you’re already a successful director with many excellent works. Are you not ashamed to compete with university students?

To this, Lu Ban wanted to clarify.

University students were people too, future film industry professionals. Spielberg could make films while still in elementary school, not to mention all the high schoolers who were content creators and the new generation of youths starting their own businesses in college.

So, don’t look down on university students, Uncle.

It was the right of university students to compete on the same track as a talented young director like Lu Ban!

Inviolate and sacred!

“But it seems like the competition this time is quite tough?”

Lu Ban reviewed the currently submitted works, and he saw that he possibly had a chance in the young director category, which referred to directors under thirty. After all, making a movie was a complex task, and being able to direct one’s own film before turning thirty was commendable.

Moreover, most young directors made movies leaning towards the artsy side, mainly depicting the urban life of modern youth. It’s not because everyone was a culture vulture, but such films were low-cost, with classmates as actors and one’s own home as a set. As for genres like mind-bending mysteries or sci-fi and fantasy, the costs were too high for university students to afford.

This edition of the festival featured several young directors’ works that attracted much attention. For instance, one called “Past Like Smoke” was about college romance, another titled “Gaokao! Gaokao! Gaokao!” depicted the strife in a high school senior’s family, and yet another called “The Brevity of Spring Night” dealt with the troubles of newly graduated college students entering society. In short, they all leaned towards emotions, reality, and urban themes.

“My film, if you round up, is also urban, right?”

Lu Ban thought.

He made up his mind, dialed a number to inquire about the possibilities, and after getting a positive response that it was still possible to apply, he immediately began working on his movie.

This time he had to make a ninety-minute film. Considering Lu Ban’s own sense of exploration time, stretching it to ninety minutes would feel somewhat hollow.

He decided to check his material first.

Opening the computer folder labeled [Crying], Lu Ban saw various angles and approaches to his own exploratory process, including third-person and first-person perspectives. For example, one shot viewed Lu Ban moving through a hospital corridor, creating a strong sense of presence.

Additionally, there were some archives of Nanhua Private Renji Hospital, with information that went into much more detail than what Song Yunyan had taken over.

Further, Lu Ban found materials on the previously missing workers, including video records of incidents noted in the memorandums. It seemed this event had lasted quite a while; just the span of the materials alone exceeded all of Lu Ban’s previous experiences.

“With this, it’ll be easy to manage. I can include the initial setup and create a complete story.”

Previously, Lu Ban’s videos were often without a clear start or end, focusing more on atmosphere and setting creation.

But this time, Lu Ban could properly narrate the story from beginning to end.

He picked up his tablet and started by organizing a timeline, deciding which parts to showcase.

The disappearing workers, for instance, could be portrayed using CCTV footage, offering a more realistic touch while keeping the workers’ faces obscured from viewers.

The archives, on the other hand, could be turned into sequences of videos, enhancing the sense of immersion.

With these plans in place, Lu Ban began to work confidently.

The next day, as Lu Ban worked at his computer, his phone vibrated.

Seeing the caller ID, it was Li Zijian.

“Is there an issue at the hospital?”

Lu Ban wondered with some skepticism and answered the call.

“How’s your health?”

Li Zijian, still thinking about the way Lu Ban had crawled out of the elevator, asked with concern.

“No problem, running a marathon should be quite simple now.”

Lu Ban replied honestly.

“That’s good… Well, the thing is, because your internet movie was so popular, some journalists want to interview you. They couldn’t find your contact information, so they reached out to me. They are all from quite professional major media outlets and websites, so they should not write anything haphazard.”

Li Zijian said after exchanging simple pleasantries.

“Journalist?”

Lu Ban thought for a moment, unsure if modern journalists were still keen on big news, but realizing that some increased exposure was generally good and could even serve as publicity for his new film.

“No problem, let them come for the interview!”

Lu Ban said confidently, patting his chest.

He instructed Li Zijian to give his contact information to the journalists and then added a contact email to his profile on his video website, just in case potential sponsors needed to reach him.

Not earning as much money himself was a minor issue for Lu Ban, but the main concern was that a sponsor’s product wouldn’t be promoted and would languish unnoticed. What a pity that would be.

During the weekend, while Lu Ban had just begun the initial work on editing the material, the journalists arrived.