novellhall Chapter 87 Filming Progress
Chapter 87 Filming Progress
Chapter 93 Filming Progress
The first major scene in "Better Days" did not opt for a relatively gentle setup, but instead jumped directly to the first emotional and fateful turning point in the story.
On her way home from school, Chen Nian was bullied again by a small group led by Wei Lai and was pushed into a dark, damp alley filled with clutter.
Xiao Bei, like a silent ghost, rode his dilapidated motorcycle in the shadows of the alleyway and witnessed the beginning of it all.
Choosing this scene as the first major challenge after filming began was a decision made jointly by director Zhang Lei, Chen Nianbei, and Zhou Dongyu.
They believe that the character must be placed in the most extreme situation from the very beginning to maximize the tension of that stinging feeling so that the actor can immerse himself in the role more quickly and thoroughly, and lay the most solid and painful foundation for the establishment of the relationship between the two later.
Several hours before filming began, Chen Nianbei was already in character.
He refused the dry jacket offered by his assistant and, wearing the faded black hoodie that Xiao Bei often wore in the drama, sat alone on an abandoned set of steps near the filming alley.
The night rain in Chongqing was fine and cold, falling on his short hair and shoulders, quickly turning into dark water stains.
He hunched over slightly, elbows resting on his knees, staring blankly at the shattered lights reflected in the puddles on the ground. He exuded a loneliness and exhaustion that seemed completely out of place amidst the bustling preparations of the film crew around him.
That wasn't Chen Nianbei's exhaustion, but Xiao Bei's mental depletion from struggling at the bottom of society day after day with no way out.
Zhou Dongyu, on the other side, was having his final adjustments made by a stylist.
Her school uniform was deliberately made somewhat dirty, her hair was messy, and her face showed fear and feigned composure.
She rarely spoke, only silently reciting Chen Nian's few weak but stubborn lines of defense from the upcoming scene, her fingers icy cold.
Behind the monitor, Zhang Lei and director of photography Cao Yu made a final check of the camera positions and movement paths.
Shooting on a rainy night presents extremely complex lighting challenges, requiring the creation of light and shadow effects that convey both a realistic, rough feel and highlight the character's isolation and helplessness.
Art director Li Miao led a team to conduct a final inspection of the debris in the alleyway.
Torn cardboard boxes, overturned trash cans, slippery mossy floors—every detail ensures that the feeling of abandonment is reinforced.
An atmosphere of violence.
"Actors, get ready!"
The assistant director's voice came through the walkie-talkie, drowning out the sound of the pattering rain.
Chen Nianbei slowly stood up from the steps, stretched his stiff neck, and walked towards the designated starting point at the alley entrance.
Under the guidance of the staff, Zhou Dongyu stood deep in the alley, surrounded by several young actors playing bullies.
Liu Haochun was now completely in the shape of "Wei Lai," with a naive yet cruel smile on his delicate face and contempt in his eyes.
Wang Hao, who plays Zheng Yi, did not appear in this scene, but he stood near the monitor, silently observing and learning.
"Better Days, Scene 1, Shot 3, First Action!" The clapper sounded crisply, then was swallowed by the sound of rain.
The play has begun.
The camera first focuses on Zhou Dongyu in the alley. She is being pushed and shoved, her schoolbag is ripped off, and the books inside are scattered all over the ground, immediately soaked with mud and water.
She tried to pick it up, but her hand was stepped on.
Liu Haochun leaned down and spoke vicious words in a sickeningly sweet voice, poking her forehead with his finger.
Zhou Dongyu's lips moved slightly, uttering broken, seemingly rational sounds, but they were drowned out by even louder laughter.
Then, the camera slowly pans to the alley entrance.
Chen Nianbei stood there, hidden in the shadow of a cement pillar and a motorcycle.
Rain dripped down his strong jawline. He didn't rush in immediately, but just watched.
Cao Yu's camera gave him a close-up—his eyes.
He witnessed violence, but he himself lived on the edge of violence. This scene might not have been unfamiliar to him; it was just another form of "everyday life."
As Zhou Dongyu struggled, he inadvertently looked up, his gaze passing through the gap left by the abuser, and met for a moment the indifferent eyes at the alley entrance.
In that instant, her fear seemed to reach its peak, which then turned into a deeper despair.
Even the occasional passerby is merely an indifferent spectator.
Just then, an actor playing a thug made an overly forceful movement, actually pushing Zhou Dongyu so hard that he stumbled and his back slammed heavily against the slippery brick wall with a dull thud.
Zhou Dongyu groaned in pain, tears streaming down her face instantly. It wasn't acting; it was a genuine physiological reaction.
Almost at the same moment, Chen Nianbei at the alley entrance showed an extremely subtle tremor in his indifferent eyes.
His body tensed almost imperceptibly for a moment, and his fingers tightened around the motorcycle handlebars.
But that was only for a moment; he still didn't move.
"Cut!"
Zhang Lei called a halt and immediately led his men inside to check on Zhou Dongyu's condition.
"Dongyu, are you alright?"
Zhou Dongyu waved his hand, panting, tears and rain mingling on his face, his voice a little hoarse: "It's nothing—I bumped into something, and it's just right—my mood is even better now."
She looked towards the alley entrance, where Chen Nianbei had already returned to his aloof demeanor, fiddling with the motorcycle's rearview mirror, as if the tension of that moment had never occurred.
Zhang Lei and Han Jia's daughter returned to the monitor to review the footage.
The woman from the Han family pointed to Chen Nianbei's subtle changes in his eyes and body: "This is good. Xiao Bei isn't purely cold-blooded; he reacts to Chen Nianbei's experience, but he suppresses that reaction with even stronger indifference. This is the first spark that ignites a connection between them."
Zhang Lei nodded, then looked at Zhou Dongyu's reaction to the realistic impact: "Sister Dongyu, that was incredibly realistic. The pain and despair were spot-on. However, safety first, next time control the force of similar movements."
He gave instructions to the young actors via walkie-talkie.
After about ten minutes of adjustments, filming continued.
This time, the bullying scene went smoothly. It was Chen Nianbei's turn for the "reaction" shot.
After taking action, Chen Nianbei returned to his previous standing posture. But when the camera zoomed in on his eyes again, subtle changes were noticeable.
Beneath that indifference lay a deeper scrutiny, as if assessing how long the girl in the alley could hold out and whether it was worth getting into trouble for him.
He didn't make a heroic entrance; he simply started his motorcycle slowly when the bullies temporarily stopped, laughing and preparing to leave. The engine roared, and the bright beam of his headlights pierced the darkness of the alleyway, intentionally or unintentionally flashing across the faces of the perpetrators, eliciting a chorus of curses and their attempts to dodge.
Then, he twisted the throttle, and the motorcycle slowly drove into the rainy night, disappearing around the street corner. From beginning to end, he didn't even glance at Chen Nian in the alley.
But his presence, his blinding headlights, like a thin needle, briefly pierced that enclosed space of violence, leaving behind an indescribable, suspenseful aftertaste.
"Cut! This one's done!" Zhang Lei's voice was filled with excitement.
Beside the monitor, Han's daughter let out a soft breath and whispered to Zhang Lei, "Their aura—that's it. One maintains a sliver of clear-headed pain amidst despair, the other reveals a hint of unseen unease beneath indifference. This scene has been convincing."
Chen Nianbei rode the prop motorcycle around and came back. He stopped, took off the hood of his soaking wet hoodie, and his hair was still dripping wet.
Zhou Dongyu also came over, wrapped in a large towel handed to him by a staff member, and the two watched the playback in front of the monitor.
On the screen, a rainy night, an alleyway, bullying, and indifferent bystanders—
The oppressive, realistic, and tense atmosphere of the scene silenced the staff around them.
"Xiao Bei had already seen Chen Nian at this point, right?"
Zhou Dongyu looked at the close-up of Chen Nianbei's eyes on the screen and asked softly.
"Um,"
Chen Nianbei's voice still carried a hint of Xiao Bei's deep tone, "But he didn't know what that meant, nor did he want to know. It's just—a little annoying."
Zhou Dongyu nodded and said nothing more. A tacit understanding, needing no further words, quietly formed in the damp, chilly air.
They all knew this was just the beginning; the more difficult and soul-searching performances were yet to come. But the success of the first major scene was like lighting the first lamp firmly in the dark rainy night, illuminating the path ahead and the characters they played. And in the story of "Better Days," that poignant chapter about protection and pain had truly and irreversibly begun, just like this night rain.
Filming for "Better Days" is in full swing, and spring in Chongqing alternates between dampness, gloom, and the occasional sparse sunlight piercing through the clouds.
The film crew was like a sophisticated yet oppressive ecosystem, with everyone immersed in that dark yet intense narrative of youth.
The filming schedule did not become easier after the first major scene went smoothly. On the contrary, it became more and more difficult as they delved deeper into the core pain of the character, but it also presented an amazing sense of realism.
The tacit understanding between Chen Nianbei and Zhou Dongyu, amidst countless confrontations, silences, and extremely limited moments of warmth, quietly grows like vines, entwining themselves into the rhythm of their performances.
They rarely interact much off-camera; often, a single glance or a subtle adjustment in movement is enough for them to understand where the emphasis of the next line will fall and where the next look will be directed.
This tacit understanding is built upon the shared "role constraints".
An emotional outburst takes place on a rooftop on a rainy day.
Chen Nian, having suffered a mental breakdown after a failed attempt to "inform" on someone, ran to the rooftop where Xiao Bei lived and wept silently in the pouring rain. Xiao Bei caught up with her but offered no comfort, simply standing a few steps behind her in silence, letting the rain soak her through.
Zhou Dongyu's crying wasn't a loud wail, but rather a huddled-up body with his shoulders heaving violently, emitting only suppressed sobs like those of a wounded animal, which, mixed with the sound of the pouring rain, sounded even more desperate.
Chen Nianbei just watched, rainwater streaming down his angular face like a small river.
His eyes were extremely complex, filled with confusion and agitation, but deep down, there was a sense of helplessness as if he were being slightly burned by her pain.
He tried to go forward several times, but his feet moved and then he stopped.
In the end, he simply took one step forward, roughly threw the old, still-dry coat he had originally intended to wear onto her trembling back, then turned around, walked back to the eaves, sat down with his back to her, and lit a cigarette.
The scarlet cigarette butt flickered in the hazy rain.
"Cut!"
After Zhang Lei called for a stop, the staff rushed over to wrap the two actors in thick bath towels and serve them hot ginger tea.
Zhou Dongyu was still caught up in her emotions, her head down, sobbing softly, while her assistant gently comforted her. Chen Nianbei took the towel, wiped her face haphazardly, and went to the monitor to watch the playback.
He watched himself throw his coat on the screen.
With impatience, yet with precision, he covered her up.
His eyes seemed to be lost in thought.
Zhang Lei patted him on the shoulder: "This gesture is well-designed; it's more powerful than any words."
Liu Haochun, who plays Wei Lai, also constantly pushes her own boundaries under the stimulation of the director and her fellow actors.
In a scene where Wei Lai is being questioned at the police station, Liu Haochun initially struggled to find her footing, unconsciously revealing her own timidity.
Zhang Lei called a halt, told her to rest aside, and then whispered a few words to Chen Nianbei.
Before filming resumed, Chen Nianbei, as one of the "suspects," was also taken to the interrogation room next door.
As Liu Haochun passed by him, Chen Nianbei looked up and glanced at her.
That one glance, like a needle, instantly pierced through Liu Haochun's attempt to maintain the facade of an "innocent young lady."
Her face paled, her eyes instinctively darting away. Then she forced herself to raise her chin, revealing a hint of offended arrogance, but beneath that arrogance, a guilty conscience began to creep in.
Once inside the interrogation room, her performance immediately improved dramatically. The cruelty hidden beneath her sweet appearance, her anger and rage after her disguise was exposed, and the deep-seated, unconscious evil within her were all clearly revealed.
Wang Hao, who plays Zheng Yi, has relatively scattered scenes, but he seizes every opportunity to appear.
Whether it was the meticulousness and caution during the initial investigation, or the confusion and perseverance in the face of the two teenagers' lies during the middle stage.
Whether it was the heaviness and helplessness as they approached the truth later on, he delivered a solid and believable performance, successfully playing the key role of connecting the plot and representing the complex perspective of the adult world.
The filming process was not without its challenges.
Chongqing's changeable weather often disrupted plans, and some street scenes required coordinating a large number of extras and complex on-site management, with retakes and repeated polishing being commonplace.
Chen Nianbei and Zhou Dongyu both lost weight and suffered from poor sleep due to prolonged immersion in repressed emotions, but both refused to use any "techniques" to alleviate this exhaustion, believing that this genuine physical and mental fatigue was precisely the nourishment needed for the roles.
Zhang Lei was under unprecedented pressure. He not only had to grasp the overall narrative and visual style, but also had to pull the actors back when they were too immersed in their emotions and give them a precise "push" when their performances were not strong enough.
His communication with the photography, art, and styling departments has become increasingly close, striving to ensure that every shot and every detail serves the core of that painful yet authentic story.
Every night, when filming ends, the crew's residence is often unusually quiet.
Few people talked or laughed loudly; everyone seemed to still carry the "chill" from the daytime scenes.
Chen Nianbei would do simple physical training alone in her hotel room, or repeatedly watch the day's footage to find subtle areas for improvement.
Zhou Dongyu sometimes listens to soft music to soothe her emotions.
Liu Haochun would often pull the acting coach aside to continue refining the scene. Wang Hao, on the other hand, would quietly study the script for the next day and the professional details of the police.
Time slips away quietly as the film reel turns, as the actors deliver each precise or slightly off-target performance, and as the director alternates between "Action" and "Cut".
In the story, Chen Nian and Xiao Bei experience their despair and glimmer of hope in front of the camera;
The creators outside the story are also using all their sincerity and skill to jointly build this film, which is destined to be challenging.
The fog of the mountain city enveloped the film set and the hearts of everyone involved.
But everyone knows that what they are creating is perhaps more than just a film; it is a courageous gaze into the darker side of youth, a profound tribute to protection and sacrifice. Filming continues, and pain and light continue to intertwine.