Although it might sound narcissistic, Chi Feiran believes that overall, he is quite a warm and bright person. Therefore, he finds the early phase of the character’s development relatively easy, which is likely one of the reasons he was selected for the audition.
The challenging part is expressing the character’s transformation later on. Due to the limited screen time as a supporting role, portraying this transition convincingly and capturing the character’s charm becomes more difficult.
“The Taste of Life” uses an entire series to slowly unfold each character’s emotional journey, capturing all the twists and turns on camera. “Soul of the Army,” however, is different. It’s a large ensemble piece, and often the characters are depicted in fragmented scenes, with limited screen time.
This approach isn’t without its benefits. Ensemble films, especially those honoring historical events, usually retain the most emotionally stirring moments. If performed well, these scenes can be very impactful, quickly establishing an actor’s skill. However, the downside is that if an actor’s performance is weak, it becomes glaringly obvious. At best, the actor might be criticized for failing to hold up; at worst, they could become the subject of widespread mockery.
Fortunately, over the years, filmmakers have accumulated enough experience to avoid such pitfalls. Recently, the standards for acting have remained high, and no selected actor has ended up being widely ridiculed—though some have sparked controversy.
Chi Feiran is now facing this “qualification exam” of sorts for potential controversy. If he fails the audition, there’s no point in considering the future.
Chi Feiran had mentally prepared himself before going on stage. Despite some inevitable nervousness, he was more driven by his determination to secure the role.
However, upon seeing the people present at the audition, Chi Feiran was taken aback. Why was his drill instructor from military training sitting there? Had he changed careers? And what a drastic change it was…
Instructor Zhang exchanged a glance with Chi Feiran and even smiled at him, seemingly unsurprised by his presence.
Chi Feiran quickly realized that it might be thanks to this instructor that he was even standing there!
And indeed, that was the case. This Instructor Zhang, whose full name was Zhang Kangwei, had the He family as his maternal relatives, with He Xuan being his great-uncle.
It was actually quite coincidental. The casting team didn’t choose actors arbitrarily. Many historical figures had living descendants, and to make the characters more authentic, the team’s opinions were often consulted. Any necessary artistic modifications usually required their consent.
Initially, Zhang Kangwei was just going through the motions. Since the film was overseen by relevant authorities, there was no fear of misrepresentation. He planned to say a few formal words and leave.
But then, someone asked him, “Do you have any actors in mind? If you do, feel free to suggest them, and we can take it into consideration.”
Zhang Kangwei, who rarely watched TV, was about to say he had no opinion when he suddenly thought of Chi Feiran.
His thoughts quickly expanded, and he realized how fitting Chi Feiran would be. Handsome, fluent in foreign languages, and young—importantly, he wasn’t just a pretty face, much like his great-uncle.
Although Zhang Kangwei hadn’t said it aloud, he always felt that no matter who portrayed his great-uncle, they could only capture his outward appearance. He didn’t expect the filmmakers to perfectly recreate his great-uncle’s essence; it seemed an impossible task.
Thus, he had refrained from giving any opinions, as long as the portrayal wasn’t negatively skewed.
But with Chi Feiran in mind, Zhang Kangwei felt that even if the actor was only capturing the essence, Chi Feiran’s essence would stand out. So, he strongly recommended him.
The Zhang family still carried significant weight, and Zhang Kangwei had proven himself reliable. He had taken on the role of drill instructor for Chi Feiran’s group out of boredom and curiosity. His enthusiastic recommendation was taken seriously by the filmmakers.
Upon review, they found Zhang Kangwei’s recommendation credible, adding Chi Feiran’s name to the candidate list.
Chi Feiran was unaware of Zhang Kangwei’s thought process, but he was already experiencing the outcome.
Despite his many thoughts, Chi Feiran focused on the audition at hand, not looking at Zhang Kangwei again, and concentrated on the task.
The casting director, a seemingly amiable middle-aged man, specified two scenes.
One was He Xuan attending a banquet after returning to the country, and the other was He Xuan after participating in the war. The instructions were clear: they wanted to see Chi Feiran’s grasp of these two different states.
The first scene was as easy as expected. Chi Feiran had attended countless banquets growing up, and his demeanor and speech were ingrained in him. All he needed to do was amplify He Xuan’s brightness and warmth.
Initially, He Xuan was charming and captivating, his smile and gaze as warm as the morning sun, radiating a gentle warmth.
The people present were quite satisfied with Chi Feiran’s performance, especially when he translated classical Chinese poetry into foreign languages. His seamless switch between languages was impressive, earning silent praise for his elegance. This must have been what He Xuan was like.
But He Xuan wasn’t just a refined gentleman who spoke foreign languages. If that were the case, his name wouldn’t be remembered by so many. His brightness and warmth faded with the nation’s turmoil, replaced by coldness and iron will.
Chi Feiran closed his eyes, and when he reopened them, all emotions had vanished. The warmth was gone, replaced by an icy resolve and tense jawline.
No, it wasn’t just his jaw; his entire being was tense.
This tension didn’t convey anxiety but a silent, oppressive atmosphere.
The people around him unconsciously felt affected, their breathing slowing, as if at a solemn funeral, influenced by the heavy atmosphere.
He Xuan had won another battle, but it wasn’t a glorious victory; it was achieved through extreme measures due to scarce resources. When he gave the orders, he did so decisively, coldly, as if those going to their deaths weren’t his countrymen.
His adjutant suggested a temporary retreat to find another opportunity.
But He Xuan refused, single-minded in his decision. To many, it seemed he was desperate for victory to save face, willing to sacrifice lives repeatedly.
But that wasn’t the case.
They couldn’t afford to lose. He Xuan couldn’t tell anyone that if they didn’t hold this position, all subsequent plans would be disrupted. This breach would become a dagger to the nation’s heart.
So they had to hold the line, no matter the cost.
In this scene, He Xuan had few lines. He had become a silent general, his once gentle voice now cold and harsh.
He Xuan stood there, looking at his soldiers, their blood-stained faces, as if engraving each one in his memory.
He said, “My brothers’ deaths will not be in vain.”
His words were cold and hard, almost dismissive, causing a stir in the script.
But those at the audition felt a shiver from his words.
It wasn’t discomfort but a physical reaction, a testament to Chi Feiran’s powerful performance.
Given their deep knowledge of history, the audience’s reaction was easily triggered, but this didn’t detract from Chi Feiran’s talent. On the contrary, it highlighted it. Their emotional response showed they were moved by his portrayal.
After finishing, Chi Feiran slowly bowed.
The casting directors felt uneasy, recalling a similar scene in the script where He Xuan bows at a funeral…
Having just witnessed such a heavy scene, Chi Feiran’s bow felt oddly poignant, beyond words.
Chi Feiran used this moment to collect himself, moving slowly. When he looked up, he saw the directors’ unusual expressions, worrying it was a bad sign.
During the audition, he hadn’t observed their reactions, focusing entirely on his performance, a life-or-death moment for an actor.
The professionals quickly masked their reactions, instructing Chi Feiran to await notification.
Chi Feiran hoped to read something from Zhang Kangwei’s face, but the instructor looked vacant, giving nothing away.
Chi Feiran sighed, “Guess I’ll just wait.”
His audition time was over; worrying would only cause more stress. He needed to wait calmly and meet his boyfriend, Rong Jin, outside.
Rong Jin was much busier than Chi Feiran. “Soul of the Army” included many young actors but also many veterans. Several had come today to assist with the auditions.
Rong Jin, usually reclusive, now took the opportunity to chat and network, knowing these veterans could help his boyfriend in the future.
