I Forged the Myth of the Ancient Overlords
Chapter 372 - 372 371. Commentator Sharp Critique on Lu Bans

Chapter 372: 371. Commentator Sharp Critique on Lu Ban’s Transformation_1 Chapter 372: 371. Commentator Sharp Critique on Lu Ban’s Transformation_1 Lu Ban clicked on the article.

The author of the article was a film critic who had previously criticized Lu Ban for his lack of ambition and for only staying in his comfort zone making horror movies. Now it seemed he was ready to offer his opinions, presumably because he saw that Lu Ban had indeed tried to transform his style.

“…A director should have a distinctive style, and I admit Lu Ban is adept at shooting horror and special effects-heavy blockbusters, but in the realm of art-house cinema, he is still a novice. His previous film style was clearly not suited for art-house movies, and his latest attempt is bound to face setbacks…”

“…Simply put, I think Lu Ban wants to make a new film based on his past achievements. He’s gotten full of himself. Are his films really that excellent? If high box-office returns are the mark of excellence, does that mean superhero movies are better than classic cinema?”

“…The high box office of Lu Ban’s movies is related to the domestic audience’s vengeful viewing habit after being influenced by Europe and American films for a long time. His film quality does not match his current success. In other words, his merit does not justify his position…”

“…I’m not optimistic about Lu Ban’s works, not because of personal taste but because rashly stepping into an unfamiliar field inevitably leads to failure. And with Lu Ban being hyped so high by the domestic industry, if he falls from grace, others might think that domestic cinema is incompetent, which is a severe blow for an industry just beginning to emerge!”

After reading the article, Lu Ban was somewhat unsettled.

The same person who criticized him for being complacent and soaked in his comfort zone without trying new genres was now accusing him of being arrogant for changing his style and experimenting with new material. This person had the audacity to make both good and bad comments as if executing a flawless defense.

The article attracted a lot of attention and discussion. Regarding Lu Ban’s new film, audiences and industry insiders were mostly divided into three attitudes.

The first kind was those looking forward to Lu Ban’s new work, believing that a director who had excelled with every movie since his debut would also create splendor in a new field.

Another group shared the view of the article, thinking Lu Ban was bound to fail. A horror movie director, what did he know about art-house cinema?

The last group consisted of the so-called fence-sitters: neutral passers-by who thought it best to wait until Lu Ban’s film was released before forming an opinion. Pre-emptively taking sides was a sure way to suffer embarrassment.

The film’s production was moving forward on two fronts.

The entire movie lasted about one hundred and twenty minutes, with the first hundred minutes encompassing themes of growth, healing, and a warmhearted journey.

Then, the story took a sharp turn towards the end, reflecting the cruelty of the world.

By the end of March, just before the submission deadline, “Peaceful Days in Spring” was finally completed.

Bai Qiquan watched the finished film once more.

He always felt something was not quite right.

“The movie seems to lack something, like it’s just short of a final breath,” Bai Qiquan muttered to himself.

As a youth romance, the film was exceptional, vividly showcasing the girl’s innocence, growth, excitement, and regret. The visuals were beautiful, the scenery was splendid, and the plot was well-paced.

But was this truly the kind of movie Lu Ban would produce?

To put it in Bai Qiquan’s words, the movie was too plain.

Although art films should be understated and grounded in reality, the question remained whether this film truly reflected Lu Ban’s style.

Had Director Lu really been so affected?

After completing the submissions for the festivals, Lu Ban released the first trailer.

Bai Qiquan had not been involved in the production of the trailer, so this was also his first time seeing it.

Upon playing it, the first thing he heard was the sound of a piano, soft and gentle, resonating deeply.

The screen lit up, and a flurry of cherry blossoms filled the view.

Those were the cherry blossoms drifting down, spring sunlight warming the girl who seemed even more dazzling than the sun.

“Since I was young, my family told me that I would go to the Shrine under the Divine Sakura and become an existence above all others.”

The entire trailer was composed of the girl’s monologue. She walked through the cherry blossoms of spring, practiced Kyudo in the blazing summer sun, brewed tea with graceful gestures amidst the red autumn leaves, and looked up at the snowflakes falling like willow catkins while attired in a Witch Costume during the snowy winter.

For a moment, Bai Qiquan was enchanted.

Not only because he had seen the finished movie and knew the girl’s ensuing story, but also because of the strong visual storytelling and immersion.

The backdrop of the gentle piano sound made one feel like a relative who had grown up alongside the girl, watching her mature step by step into an excellent person.

In this trailer, the girl’s sentiment was fully displayed. Although it only comprised daily scenes and trivial life moments, everything done by the beautiful girl seemed pleasing to the eye.

“Managing to create scenes filled with such girlish imagination, Director Lu really is impressive.”

In Bai Qiquan’s view, male directors generally focused more on visual presentation within the broader framework. The camera’s purpose was stronger, and every shot needed to convey or express something, similar to boys online shopping by directly searching for the item and completing the purchase swiftly.

These types of shots tended to be “harder,” easy to analyze and deconstruct.

Conversely, female directors valued the emotional content of the shots more. Sometimes, even shots without clear purpose would be included in a film. These moments were often conveyed through music or the underlying mood between adjoining scenes. When you felt a certain shot was meaningless, the director might have included it just because it simply felt right.

These kinds of shots were “softer.”

For instance, in this trailer, the transition between the four seasons: if handled bluntly, would come across as a chronicle of the protagonist’s past experiences. But Lu Ban skillfully interspersed many landscape shots, many shots without people, of insects, vegetation, and flowers that could have been replaced without causing dissonance, almost as if they were simply added to pad the length.

Yet, these visuals effectively smoothed and laid the groundwork for the audience’s emotions. After watching the seasonal sequences, viewers would be left reflecting on the girl’s beauty, charm, and gentleness.

It had to be said, after watching this trailer, Bai Qiquan felt he had completely fallen for Amber.