The story about the catfish came from Lu Chen's memories of the Dream World.
In that world, there was even a specific term for it: the Catfish Effect. It referred to introducing outside competition to stimulate the vitality of a company or an industry. The story itself, however, was fictional rather than historical fact.
Using this brand-new story from another world in a debate was both vivid and clever. Anyone could understand it, and everyone could grasp the point he was making. Most importantly, Hong Kong's film and television industry desperately needed real change. There was no point in dwelling on past glory.
Hong Kong cinema had reached its last golden age in the 1990s. After the turn of the century, the industry began a steady decline. Many insiders clung stubbornly to the achievements of the past instead of moving forward.
They failed to recognize the massive market changes brought by the rise of the internet, and in the end, the market abandoned them.
Even now, although Hong Kong's film and television industry was still sizeable, its influence was nowhere near what it had once been. Worse yet, the movies and TV dramas being produced had become increasingly repetitive.
Formulaic plots were copied everywhere, crude toilet humor had barely changed in over a decade, and even local audiences were growing tired of it.
If local viewers were losing interest, how could the industry hope to hold on to the mainland and Southeast Asian markets? The industry's future was hanging by a thread.
That was exactly why the Hong Kong government had worked with mainland authorities to introduce the new support policy, allowing mainland film companies to invest in Hong Kong productions while sharing preferential treatment and subsidies. Simply put, the policy was meant to stimulate the local industry through competition.
Yet some people in the entertainment business refused to reflect on their own shortcomings. Instead, they focused solely on rejecting outside competition. If they continued down that path, they'd end up just like those sardines, huddling together until they all died.
Of course, the mainland film industry had plenty of its own problems as well. But the boom in major intellectual properties had created a thriving market, and annual box office revenues continued to climb. If Hong Kong cinema truly wanted to regain its former glory, it had to win back the mainland audience.
---
Since the topic had already come up, Lu Chen spoke without holding back.
"The biggest problem facing Hong Kong film and television today was the lack of popular IPs and fresh ideas," he explained. "Hong Kong doesn't lack talented filmmakers, distribution channels, or decades of accumulated experience. But it has fallen behind the times."
Many viewers watching at home nodded in agreement.
Hong Kong people loved going to the movies. Statistics showed that the average Hong Kong resident spent more than 300 Hong Kong dollars on movie tickets every year, adding up to an annual box office of three to four billion dollars, not even counting concession sales.
But nowadays, especially among younger audiences, the favorites were Hollywood blockbusters and films or TV dramas from Japan and South Korea. The reason hardly needed explaining.
Chen Shuling asked, "Is that why you chose to come to Hong Kong to make movies?"
Since Lu Chen had boldly declared he wanted to be the "catfish" of Hong Kong's film industry, the clearest proof would naturally be the movie he was about to shoot. Otherwise, his claims would just be empty words.
"That's one of the reasons." Lu Chen nodded without hesitation. "I believe my film will be both innovative and made with genuine care."
Lu Chen's appearance spoke for itself. He was tall, handsome, and carried himself with unmistakable confidence.
As his achievements in the entertainment industry continued to grow, that confidence had naturally become a part of his presence. It wasn't the kind of confidence born of arrogance; it was the kind that inspired trust. Not only did it affect the people in the studio, but viewers could feel it through the television screen as well.
"Ahhh!" In Ah Kang's bedroom, his younger sister let out an excited squeal. She grabbed her brother's arm and shook it enthusiastically. "Lu Chen is just too handsome! I've decided! From today on, I'm officially a Lu Chen fan!"
Ah Kang couldn't help rolling his eyes. Inside, he felt a little jealous. Xiao Wei liked Lu Chen, and now his own sister had become a fan too. This mainland entertainer's charm was almost unfair.
Still, he had to admit that Lu Chen looked incredibly impressive speaking confidently on the program. Among Hong Kong's younger generation of entertainers, very few could compare.
---
Zhuang Dong, however, refused to accept it. "If I remember correctly," he said, "this is your very first movie?"
The implication was obvious: 'How dare you boast so confidently before you've even released your first film? Aren't you afraid you'll embarrass yourself?'
Lu Chen simply smiled. "I made my debut last year. My first album sold over three million copies. The first TV drama I wrote and starred in surpassed a 3% television rating on the mainland, and when it aired in South Korea, it exceeded 30%."
That single sentence was enough. Zhuang Dong had nothing left to say.
A debut album that reached triple platinum. A first television drama that broke 3% ratings on the mainland and became a massive hit in South Korea.
Even Liu Gangsheng's early career couldn't compare with accomplishments like those. What grounds did Zhuang Dong have to claim Lu Chen's first film was bound to fail?
Taking advantage of the moment, Lu Chen shamelessly advertised his new movie. "I hope everyone will watch my first film, 'A Chinese Ghost Story', when it's released. I'll gladly welcome all your feedback."
To be honest, Lu Chen had been treated rather unfairly. Long before he arrived, several major mainland film companies had already come to Hong Kong to prepare new productions. Whether in reputation, influence, or scale, every one of those companies was far larger than Lu Chen's newly established Hong Kong workshop.
Yet somehow, he had become the one singled out as a target. Although he had successfully fought back against the criticism during the program, he figured he might as well get a little extra promotion out of the opportunity.
Even Chen Shuling couldn't help laughing. It wasn't unusual for celebrities to promote their work while appearing on television, but very few were as completely straightforward about it as Lu Chen. Instead of seeming calculating, though, it only made him come across as sincere and genuine.
Smiling, Chen Shuling said, "When your movie comes out, I'll definitely buy a ticket to support it."
Lu Chen pressed his palms together in thanks. "Thank you, Sister Shuling. One ticket... can you bring your husband along too?"
Chen Shuling burst into laughter, genuinely amused. The audience in the studio laughed along with her. The tense atmosphere that had filled the room earlier disappeared completely, replaced by a warm and lively mood.
---
At that very moment, while 'Entertainment Three Talks' was airing, Chen Shuling was sitting in the control room, monitoring the ratings for the episode. Watching herself laughing heartily on one of the monitors, she couldn't help smiling again.
Looking back on the interview now, she felt there was still so much more to discover about Lu Chen. Unfortunately, the recording time had been far too short.
'Ring, Ring, '
The telephone in the control room suddenly rang. A staff member answered it. After listening for a moment and responding with a couple of nods, he turned toward Chen Shuling and held up one hand, extending all five fingers.
5%!
Even with all her years of hosting experience, even after weathering countless highs and lows in television, Chen Shuling's heart skipped a beat.
The gesture told her everything. The latest episode of 'Entertainment Three Talks' had reached a 5% viewership rating, far above its usual average of around 3%.
It was an undeniable success.
(End of Chapter)
You can read ahead up to 60 chapters on my patreon https://www.patreon.com/darkshadow6395