The movie ‘Tears Behind Bars’ was quite interesting. Its tear-jerking nature did not rely on overly melodramatic scenes; the entire film maintained a positive and uplifting tone.
Even during the protagonist Huo Yuan’s darkest periods in life, the movie never descended into gloominess. So, what truly made this movie heart-wrenching?
Its realism. In the latter part, the movie became excessively realistic. Rather than portraying Huo Yuan as a mere fictional character, he felt like someone living among us – someone we might encounter in our own lives, whose experiences would not seem out of place in reality.
Huo Yuan was no different from an ordinary person, with both virtues and flaws. He had his own interests and hobbies, people he liked and hated, likes and dislikes. He was truly ordinary and commonplace.
He lacked any sort of protagonist’s halo. If there was anything special about him, it was that he was a bit unlucky.
Throughout the movie, the protagonist Huo Yuan underwent three major emotional shifts – the first after failing the college entrance exam thrice, the second after hastily committing a homicide and being imprisoned, and the third prompted by his parents’ passing, leading to a complete transformation of his character.
Despite his diligent efforts in prison, earning multiple sentence reductions and even inventing two patents, he still struggled to find his place in the world.
With a twenty-three-year sentence, he entered prison in his vibrant youth, full of youthful vigor and radiance. When he was released, however, his temples had grayed, and though his back remained straight, his face bore wrinkles.
Twenty-three years later, the outside world had changed beyond recognition. The familiar alleys, now renovated and clean, made him hesitant to even step out.
The girl he liked had long since married someone else, and his old friends had started their own families. The parents he left behind, full of life and health, were no longer there.
The small building he had lived in since birth had been demolished, replaced by rows of sleek high-rises.
In the final scene, Huo Yuan stood on a long path, slowly walking towards the distance. As the long shot pulls back, his figure recedes further and further.
Simultaneously, Huo Yuan’s voice emerged, accompanying the lengthening shot:
“One must ultimately pay the price for their mistakes, some borne by themselves, others affecting others. Some mistakes can be rectified, others cannot.”
“If possible, one should strive with all their might to break free from the quagmire and be reborn.”
“If not, one must forge ahead resolutely, with no turning back thereafter.”
As the movie ended and the lights came on, the vast theater remained silent for a few moments. Then, someone softly asked their companion, “Is he still alive?”
“Probably not.”
“Perhaps both death and rebirth coexist.”
Midnight screenings on opening night did not attract a large crowd; only about half the seats were occupied in the theater. Most of the viewers were adults, and some of the more emotional ones were softly weeping, while others exchanged glances in silent contemplation.
However, one man who appeared to be in his fifties sat alone in the back corner, silently shedding tears.
While an ordinary person might find the film moving, for someone with personal experience of incarceration, it struck a profound chord, evoking tears.
The protagonist’s struggles mirrored what this middle-aged man had recently endured himself, merely months ago. As the theater gradually emptied until only a handful remained, the man’s silent tears escalated into audible sobs.
Ye Zhou and Jiang Tingyuan left the theater, walking slowly under the dimly lit street lamps.
“Jiang-ge, what do you think the box office performance of this movie will be?” Ye Zhou inquired.
After some thought, Jiang Tingyuan spoke frankly, “The box office probably won’t be very good.”
Despite its high quality, the film’s niche subject matter inherently limited its appeal. While meeting the criteria for an award-winning film, most award candidates share a distinct characteristic – a limited audience. In the eyes of critics and professionals, He Feiyang’s film may have flaws in its narrative, but its merits outshine its faults.
He Feiyang’s handling of lighting and cinematography was exceptional. Throughout the film, explicit dialogues were rarely needed, as the atmospherics are deftly conveyed through lighting and camera work alone.
However, what resonates with a niche audience often struggles to gain widespread acceptance. For those with specialized knowledge, this work is a rare gem, but to the general public, it is merely a film – one that may seem obscure and difficult to comprehend.
Achieving box office success with this film was evidently an improbable feat.
Furthermore, the director of ‘Tears Behind Bars’ lacked the level of public attention and discourse surrounding Ye Zhou, making it quite challenging to replicate the success of ‘Chasing the Light.’
More accurately than public attention, it was the surrounding controversy that made a difference.
When Ye Zhou made ‘Chasing the Light,’ he had a significant prerequisite – the polarizing reception and divisive word-of-mouth surrounding his previous film, ‘A Farce.’ Some loved it, others hated it.
Although ‘Chasing the Light’ itself had no marketing from start to finish, the promotional onslaught for ‘A Farce’ was immense, to an extent even Ye Zhou had not anticipated. The marketing for ‘A Farce’ inadvertently benefited ‘Chasing the Light.’
Ye Zhou, as a director, remained a constant subject of controversy – some praised his talent, while others dismissed him as an opportunistic risk-taker who merely got lucky with two successive hits.
It’s not that no one had tried to emulate the marketing Ye Zhou did for “A Farce” three years ago, but the convergence of timing, circumstances, and individuals then was impossible to replicate now.
Even Ye Zhou himself could not guarantee he could replicate that period’s success, let alone others.
Therefore, while both ‘Tears Behind Bars’ and ‘Chasing the Light’ cater to niche audiences, Ye Zhou could capitalize on the residual attention from his previous film, whereas ‘Tears Behind Bars’ had no such advantage.
Ye Zhou had, in fact, anticipated these considerations and discussed them with Liu Zhao and He Feiyang. Ultimately, they decided to release the film during the holiday season, given their ability to do so.
Ye Zhou sighed, a tinge of resignation in his voice, “There’s no better choice than this.”
“Although the box office performance won’t be outstanding with a holiday release, at least the larger audience base guarantees it won’t completely flop.”
Despite Ye Zhou’s grand promises and rosy projections when dealing with theater executives, the reality was far from his glowing depictions.
‘Tears Behind Bars’ could at least capitalize on the massive holiday crowds to generate some box office revenue. A release during any other period would likely be even more disastrous, potentially failing to recover the costs.
That’s the drawback of award-winning films – they gain fame but lose profit. While Ye Zhou did not prioritize profits, He Feiyang and Liu Zhao were independent filmmakers who cannot rely on Ye Zhou’s investments for every project. The best Ye Zhou could do was ensure this film doesn’t completely bomb.
Earning critical acclaim and a respectable box office performance indirectly validates He Feiyang and Liu Zhao’s capabilities. In the future, whether seeking investments, assembling crews, or engaging with theaters, their impressive résumés would open more doors.
After years of working together, Ye Zhou’s relationship with these three projects and their teams has transcended the initial investor-investee dynamic. Through an exchange of sincerity, they have become close friends rather than mere collaborators.
Even if unspoken, they understand the genuine care and effort Ye Zhou has invested – more than in his own films.
Jiang Tingyuan habitually ruffled Ye Zhou’s hair reassuringly, “With awards in hand, even a modest box office exceeds most others’ starting points. No need to worry excessively.”
Comforted by Mr. Jiang, Ye Zhou’s spirits lifted. He was right. Even if the box office was not satisfactory, the awards were real and the abilities of the two were real.
Whether He Feiyang, Liu Zhao, or Ye Zhou himself, they had each given their utmost effort. As for the box office performance…
They had already done their best, the rest would be left to fate.
—
Including this year, it was Ye Zhou and Mr. Jiang’s third New Year together.
Previously, they would stock up on festive goods and celebrate at home. However, this year brought an unexpected turn of events. On New Year’s Day, as they were eating dumplings, Mr. Jiang received a phone call that lasted about twenty minutes. When he returned, something seemed off.
Ye Zhou swallowed his dumpling and noticed Mr. Jiang unconsciously dipping one in the empty vinegar dish for an unusually long time. He couldn’t help but ask, “Should I get a new vinegar dish?”
Jiang Tingyuan snapped out of his daze, glancing at the empty dish before setting down his chopsticks. Hesitating, he asked, “Would you…want to…”
“Hmm?” Ye Zhou picked up another dumpling, inquiring as he ate.
After a momentary pause, Jiang Tingyuan’s tone carried an uncharacteristic uncertainty, “Meet my family?”
Ye Zhou: “……”
If he remembered correctly, aside from Mr. Jiang’s grandfather, the entire Jiang family – from Jiang Tingyuan’s parents to his uncles, aunts, and cousins – none of them were decent people.
In the book, when the Jiang family underwent a succession battle, the reason the protagonist could so easily claim victory were not only thanks to his protagonist halo and the original owner’s blunders. The Jiang relatives certainly did their part in causing trouble.
Mr. Jiang’s grandfather passed away over a decade ago, so the family members Mr. Jiang referred to, barring any surprises, were likely his scumbag father, scumbag mother, and scumbag relatives.
Seeing Ye Zhou’s silence, Jiang Tingyuan picked up his chopsticks again, “It’s fine if you don’t want to go. We can do it another time.”
Though his expression remained calm, Ye Zhou could sense Mr. Jiang might misunderstand his hesitation as an unwillingness to meet his family.
Ye Zhou wanted to explain, but upon opening his mouth, he realized it was something that couldn’t really be explained. What could he say? Could he directly tell Mr. Jiang that his relatives, including his parents, were no good?
Of course not.
“Sure, when should we go? Now?”
Ye Zhou tilted his head, pondering for a moment, then decided to agree. Whatever demons or snakes they faced, he would deal with them as they came. It’s not like they could bully Mr. Jiang in front of him, right?
Upon his agreement, Ye Zhou saw a flash of joy in Mr. Jiang’s eyes, and his own gaze softened even more. His poor Mr. Jiang, usually so shrewd, became utterly confused when family and emotions were involved.
To prevent any unexpected situations later, Ye Zhou urged Mr. Jiang to finish the dumplings on their plates before they set off for the Jiang family ancestral home.
When they arrived at the entrance of the Jiang family’s old house, Ye Zhou suddenly remembered something important. Regardless of what the Jiang family was like, he needed to observe proper etiquette when meeting Jiang Tingyuan’s parents for the first time.
Feeling embarrassed to mention it to Jiang Tingyuan, Ye Zhou set an alarm on his phone, pretending to make a call as they were about to get out of the car. He ran to the entrance, hoping to buy something, but there were no shops or even people to be seen near the old Jiang house.
Left with no choice, Ye Zhou called his assistant, asking him to purchase and deliver a suitable gift.
After all the hustle, more than half an hour had passed. In the cold winter, Ye Zhou was sweating profusely by the time he returned to the Jiang house with bags in hand. As soon as he entered the courtyard, he heard men shouting and women crying inside the house.
Ye Zhou’s heart skipped a beat. He quickly approached and, upon pushing the door open and seeing the situation in the hall, he threw the things he was carrying to the side, rolled up his sleeves, and charged in.
He landed a punch on the middle-aged man who was about to lay hands on Jiang Tingyuan.
“I’ll beat you senseless!”
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