Chương 807: Chapter 807 Peace is only within the range of cannons
The director is the chief commander during on-site shooting, yet he doesn't need to oversee every single detail personally.
During a break, Chad took the opportunity to discuss the intricacies of a director's work with Martin, who had wandered over. "Take the gunfight scene at the Continental Hotel," Chad began. "I communicated my vision to the set design and art teams, outlining the kind of battlefield I wanted. Beyond that, I leave the specifics to them. They bring my ideas to life."
Martin, though familiar with the process, listened intently, absorbing the nuances.
Chad continued, "Effective communication is crucial for a director. The teams understand my needs and create the scene accordingly. I review it, and if it meets my expectations, we proceed. If not, we revise until it does."
Martin nodded, appreciating the layered process. "Everything needs meticulous coordination on-site," he acknowledged.
"Exactly," Chad agreed, gesturing toward assistant director Hassell, who was diligently managing the set. "Hassell is my executive director. He handles most of the on-site tasks. I step in personally only for critical scenes, especially those involving lead actors like you."
Martin drew a parallel, "For action sequences and gun battles, you convey your desired effects to Tiger and Marcus. Remember that stairwell fight in the last film? You set the requirements, and Tiger designed the choreography to make the fight look authentic and safe. These specific tasks are Tiger's responsibility."
Chad nodded, "Having a team that communicates well and executes orders efficiently is indispensable."
Marcus Ding, listening in, posed a question, "Would it be simpler if a film had fewer main characters, fewer scenes, and a simpler plot compared to what Jonathan faced?"
Chad pondered this for a moment. "That's a practical issue. The more extensive the crew, the larger the scale, and the more scene changes, the more challenging the direction becomes. Directing a film crew is exponentially harder than commanding a small group. This kind of coordination requires innate talent."
He stressed this point to Martin, "Talent is more crucial than effort."
Martin reflected on the prodigious directors he knew. Many renowned directors lived indulgent lives but could produce masterpieces effortlessly. Conversely, some directors toiled tirelessly yet remained unremarkable, their work forgotten by audiences.
Understanding his limitations, Martin confessed, "I lack that kind of innate talent. I'll start with a small-scale production, with a modest budget, simple plot, and few scenes. If it doesn't work out, the financial loss will be minimal."
Chad looked at him thoughtfully, "In terms of the market, sometimes marketing outweighs the film's quality."
Hollywood's recent history was full of poorly made films that, through effective marketing, achieved commercial success.
Martin smiled and said, "I don't want to make this one."
Mene sauntered over, a mischievous grin on his face. "The boss wants to be the next Spielberg."
Martin chuckled, "If I had Spielberg's talent, I wouldn't be standing here as an actor."
The three of them laughed heartily, their camaraderie evident.
Chad, always self-aware, knew he wasn't a naturally gifted director. His journey had been a relentless grind. He started as a stuntman in the early 1990s, eventually breaking into the action director group, contributing to iconic films like "The Matrix." After more than a decade of hard work, it was his collaboration with Martin on "Assassin's League" that finally propelled him into the limelight as an action director. Even then, his ascent wasn't without its challenges.
Critics often lambasted Chad's work, accusing him of being a one-trick pony who could only shoot action scenes, with his attempts at dramatic storytelling falling flat. But neither Martin nor Chad let the criticism bother them. For them, the "John Wick" series was about pure, unadulterated fun.
As their break ended, Martin and Mene prepared for their next scene. They got into makeup, grabbed the shotguns handed to them by Bruce, and stepped back onto the set of the Continental Hotel in New York.
A throng of stuntmen, clad in helmets and body armor, followed them onto the scene.
Filming resumed. Martin's Jonathan and Mene's Winston coordinated seamlessly, taking down the killers who had infiltrated the hotel. Unlike their heavily armored foes, Jonathan and Winston moved with agility, their shotguns loaded with steel-core armor-piercing rounds that easily shattered helmets.
Chad's direction ensured that while Martin, the lead, remained the focal point, Mene also received significant screen time. This was part of Chad's broader vision: a spin-off film centered on the Continental Hotel, with Mene potentially stepping into the lead role.
Gunshots echoed through the studio as Martin and Mene alternated between shooting and resting. This approach allowed them to catch their breath and maintain their stamina. The action sequences, crafted by Tiger Chen and Marcus, demanded high physical exertion but were well within Martin's capabilities.
Actors in action films often undergo rigorous physical training months in advance. Martin, known for his agility, blended close-quarters combat with gunplay, showcasing a distinctive gun-fighting style. Mene, on the other hand, excelled in pure gunfights.
As the morning's shooting wrapped up, the group reconvened for lunch. Martin, Chad, Mene, and Marcus gathered around, discussing the scene and planning their next moves, their bond strengthened by shared passion and effort.
Marcus pointed at the subtitle "Parabellum" in the film's title and asked, "What's the meaning behind that? I remember there's a gun with that name."
Chad leaned back, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "It's from Latin. The full phrase is 'Si vis pacem, para bellum.' It means 'If you want peace, prepare for war.'"
Mene, who hadn't delved much into such concepts, frowned in confusion. "Isn't preparing for war just to fight?"
Marcus, a veteran with battlefield experience, chimed in. "Peace is something you have to fight for. Without the means to defend yourself, you're just asking to be attacked, like in Afghanistan and Iraq."
Martin, taking a leisurely sip of water, added, "I once heard a saying that rings true, 'Peace is only within the range of cannons.'"
Marcus nodded in agreement. "That's exactly it. Look at America. Against stronger opponents, we avoid direct military confrontation. Even when there are tensions, we know when to back down."
Chad raised an eyebrow. "Are you referring to the big bear?"
Marcus shrugged. "It sure isn't Iraq."
Bruce, always quick with a quip, interjected, "So, if America accuses you of having weapons of mass destruction, you'd better actually have them. If not, you're in real trouble."
Mene scratched his head. "I'm lost. What are you guys even talking about?"
Martin, with a smirk, said, "Because you don't follow politics. You spend all your spare time honing your verbal skills."
Mene, unabashed, replied, "That's my ticket to making it in Hollywood, just like you, Boss Martin!"
Chad brought the conversation back on track. "The subtitle signifies that Jonathan, the protagonist, wants peace with the High Table. But to achieve that, he has to wage war against them first."
Martin nodded. "Exactly. I made some tweaks to the scenes in Morocco. Jonathan is going to unleash a massacre there."
Originally, Martin had contemplated portraying a segment of the High Table's forces as Jewish. Jonathan would journey to the Middle East seeking peace, only to find his efforts thwarted, leading to another bloody spree. However, after discussing this idea with Bruce, he decided against it. Despite Hollywood's reputation for creative freedom, very few mainstream films dare to cast Jews as the principal villains.
Martin recalled the backlash Mel Gibson faced after "The Passion of the Christ," where some perceived anti-Semitic undertones. The drunk driving incident where Gibson cursed at Jews was merely the tipping point.
Because of a personal bias following a Moroccan kidnapping incident, director Nolan had avoided depicting Jews negatively in his films, opting instead to sideline them altogether.
The group continued to delve into film topics, eventually touching on "Lone Survivor," a film adapted from Marcus's own harrowing experiences. The conversation flowed, a blend of war stories, cinematic strategies, and the delicate dance of Hollywood politics.
The film garnered a robust response in North America, raking in $138 million at the box office by the time it left theaters. Considering its $40 million investment, it was a resounding success. However, the film's reception overseas was lukewarm, bringing in only $31.02 million. Despite this, the global box office total of $169 million ensured a substantial profit.
After lunch, the crew retreated to their trailers to rest, especially Martin and Mene, who needed to recharge for the afternoon's demanding action scenes. Martin even declined Clara's offer to join him, prioritizing his need to conserve energy for the intense shoot.
The afternoon saw Martin and Mene switch to AR-15s as they continued battling killers in full-body bulletproof suits. The studio echoed with constant gunfire, yet thanks to strict management, no accidents occurred with the firearms.
When Martin wrapped up for the day, he was drenched in the scent of gunpowder. Even after changing and showering, the smell clung to him. On his way back to the hotel, his phone rang. It was Taylor Swift.
"Hi, Martin," Taylor's voice sounded weary. "I heard you're filming in New York?"
"Yeah," Martin replied. "Just finished for the day. Heading back to the hotel now."
Taylor inquired about his hotel and proposed, "I'll be passing by in half an hour. Do you have time for a quick chat?"
Martin checked his watch. "Sure, I'll wait for you in the lobby."
"Great. See you soon," Taylor said, ending the call.
Back at the hotel, Martin found a quiet spot in the lobby lounge and sent Taylor a message. Within minutes, Taylor, flanked by several assistants, hurried in. She spotted Martin, instructed her team to wait, and made her way over.
Taking a seat next to him, she sighed, "I'm holding a concert in New York this weekend."
"I saw the ads," Martin said. "Looks like it's going to be a hit."
Taylor's makeup couldn't hide her exhaustion. "Concerts are incredibly tiring. It's a huge strain on physical endurance, singing skills, and especially on the voice midway through the show."
Sensing her need, Martin asked, "How can I help?"
Taylor leaned in, her voice barely a whisper. "Come to the concert this weekend. Go backstage when it's about halfway through and help me with my throat."
She pleaded softly, "Please, Martin."
How could he refuse someone he cared about?
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