The winter chill still covered Paris, but inside the office of the director of the Comédie-Française, it felt somewhat stiflingly hot.
Lionel sat opposite Émile Perrin, pushing a densely written list across the large desk.
Émile Perrin picked up the list, and as his eyes moved across the page, his expectant expression gradually turned to astonishment.
His brow furrowed tighter and tighter, and his breathing grew ragged...
Finally, he put the list down, looked up, and gazed at Lionel for a long time, as if seeing the young man clearly for the first time.
Émile Perrin's voice was nearly hoarse:
"Lionel, do you know how much this will cost?"
Lionel spread his hands:
"Émile, to truly surpass A Doll's House on stage, mere script elegance and acting skill are no longer enough. We need an entirely new revolution in stage technology.
Otherwise, even the best script will have its dramatic effect severely diminished by outdated staging—if that's the case, I'd rather not write the script."
Émile Perrin raised a hand to cover his forehead and let out a pained groan:
"Must it be this way? Is there no other way? We can focus on the script, demand more in the acting..."
Lionel cut him off, his tone decisive:
"No, it must be this way. I have already seen A Doll's House at the Paris Opera. Its success is not just because of the script; did you see that near-realistic stage set?
The sense of immersion it gave the audience surpassed all previous plays. When the audience entered the theatre, they didn't see a painted canvas, but a real 'home' where Nora and Helmer truly lived.
If our new play still uses painted scenery, we lose by a huge margin from the very start!"
Émile Perrin struggled to sit up straight, picked up the list, and pointed to the first item, beginning the difficult clause-by-clause discussion.
"First, this: 'realistic set,' and it must have 'a two-story structure that can actually be traversed'!"
Émile Perrin became agitated:
"Lionel, do you realize the structure of our stage? A proscenium stage, with a depth of only 8 meters!
The popular method is to use perspective painting to create a sense of space, placing a few physical props in the foreground. The audience is used to it!
You are demanding a two-story structure with a staircase so actors can frequently go up and down, close doors, run, and even have conflicts occurring simultaneously upstairs and downstairs...
This is not just a question of set cost; we would need to reinforce the stage floor, redesign the fly system, and maybe even adjust the location of the orchestra pit! The cost is too high!"
Lionel shook his head and patiently explained:
"You are correct; the audience is used to painted scenery, but A Doll's House has already allowed them to experience 'reality'!
My new script is intrinsically linked to the atmosphere created by the setting; a flat painted backdrop can never achieve the effect I desire.
It requires an environment where actors can truly 'live.' If the 8-meter depth isn't enough, then we find a way to expand it. The Paris Opera can do it, so why can't the Comédie-Française? We are also a temple of French drama!"
Émile Perrin almost shouted:
"A temple must also consider the francs in the vault! The Opera has massive state subsidies, twice as much as ours! Although the Comédie-Française has a great reputation, every single franc must be meticulously accounted for!
Do you realize how much investment a stage structure renovation requires? This isn't just the cost of timber and craftsmen; it could also disrupt the rehearsal schedules for a series of subsequent productions!"
Lionel did not back down:
"Investment is for greater returns. A one-time renovation investment will meet the staging requirements for all future 'new plays.' Think about what The Choir brought to the Comédie-Française—was it just box office receipts? We need another Choir, one that surpasses it!"
Émile Perrin fell silent; he could not deny the enormous success and revenue brought by The Choir. He stared hard at the list, his finger moving to the next item:
"Lighting that can undergo 'subtle changes continuously' according to the plot and the characters' emotions...
To envelop the scene in the 'atmosphere of an approaching storm,' with lightning and thunder outside the 'window' at all times, reminding the audience that 'something terrible is about to happen'…
Lionel, this is too complicated! We primarily rely on gaslights and color filters right now; we cannot manage the kind of 'subtle change' you demand!"
Lionel's tone became firmer:
"The technology is already available. The Opera House experimented with arc lamps two years ago; although harsh, the brightness was sufficient. More importantly, I just installed incandescent lights in my home.
Although they aren't bright enough yet, they can be turned on and off at will, and they can serve as supplementary stage lighting. This is not a fantasy, Émile; it just requires investment and experimentation."
Émile Perrin was almost pounding the table:
"Investment and experimentation? You say that so easily!
Do you know how expensive these new light fixtures are? Installation, debugging, and maintenance alone require specialized engineers!
And they have to change according to the plot—how many people would that require backstage to operate? What is the risk of failure?
If the lighting system malfunctions midway through a two-to-three-hour performance, it's a disaster! A complete disaster! We would become the laughingstock of all Paris!"
Lionel responded calmly:
"Every revolution carries risk, but the risk of standing still is greater—that is, being left behind by the times. Do you want the Comédie-Française to be permanently stepped on by the Opera House?
We can start with small-scale experiments, find the most reliable engineers, and conduct thorough rehearsals. Risk can be managed, but opportunity cannot be missed. By the time other theatres install realistic sets and electric lights, the Comédie-Française will quickly be abandoned."
...
The ensuing argument lasted nearly an hour.
For every item on the list, Émile Perrin attempted to raise objections and opposition from the perspectives of cost, technical feasibility, and traditional precedent.
Lionel consistently argued that these investments and transformations were necessary for the sake of ultimate realism, immersion, and dramatic tension.
Furthermore, he maintained it was the only way to conquer A Doll's House and redefine stage art simultaneously.
The air in the office seemed to solidify, broken only by the occasional crackle of logs in the fireplace and the sound of their debate.
Émile Perrin's face was a mixture of struggle and yearning. He was suffocated by the high renovation budget and the risk, yet he could not resist the magnificent blueprint Lionel had described. Not just to surpass A Doll's House, but to lead the future of stage art...
He was acutely aware of Lionel's talent and desperately needed a new work that could revitalize the reputation of the Comédie-Française.
Lionel observed the shifting expression on the other man's face, knowing the discussion had gone on long enough for today.
Since he couldn't completely convince Perrin, he eased his tone appropriately and stood up.
Lionel straightened his coat and picked up his hat:
"Émile, this is indeed a massive investment, and it involves considerable risk. You don't need to decide immediately. I will leave this list with you. I am willing to wait until you have a budget proposal before I start writing this new play."
Émile Perrin looked up, his gaze complex, his face etched with the pain of indecision.
Before Lionel left, he asked almost subconsciously:
"Wait... Lionel, this new play of yours... what is its title?"
Lionel paused at the doorway and turned back:
"Thunderstorm!"
With that, he did not linger, pulled open the office door, and walked out.
(End of Chapter)