Chapter 52: Novel Writers Can Write Scripts, Totally Normal
Qi Yunming really isn’t being sarcastic; the program Chao Yue Ban often makes corresponding adaptations when remaking film and television classics.
Which remake doesn’t involve adaptation?
Arbitrarily changing the plot is undoubtedly ruining a classic, but refining the dialogue to be a bit more modern is no problem at all; this kind of change can also be considered keeping up with the times.
The way Yu Wei described is indeed very interesting, so he let the other party give it a try.
Alright, mainly because this change makes it much easier, Qi Yunming wants to cut a little corner…
Yu Wei belatedly took the pen; he really wants him to revise it? This Old Qi seems a bit unreliable; who delegates such heavy responsibility right at the first meeting?
Seeing this, the other artists quietly gathered around; from what the director meant, it seems this change really has some merit?
They want to see how this layman Yu Wei revises the script.
“Come over here to revise it.”
Chi Leying doesn’t understand what wonderful tacit understanding these two have reached, but she quickly selected the small table and stool next to it for the lead actors to rest and sat down first to occupy the advantageous position.
Yu Wei doesn’t waste words either; he smoothly sits down, picks up the tool, and starts marking; revise it and be done, he doesn’t remember other scenes clearly, but this famous scene has long been etched into his DNA.
To the extent that he can recite it even without relying on the system.
This scene in Infidelity has a lot of opening filler talk; the male lead returns to the room, sees the mistress, and has to feign surprise and hesitate for a while—Yu Wei directly crosses it all out and changes it to one line: “Why are you wearing her clothes?”
What does this mean?
So much emotionally fluctuating dialogue is directly gone, replaced by this line…
Although it looks awkward no matter how you see it, what’s with this sudden sense of imagery? The mistress wearing the female lead’s clothes to seduce the male lead—thinking about it is exciting, no, thinking about it has strong dramatic conflict.
Amid the crowd’s uncertain gazes, Yu Wei waves his hand boldly and directly crosses out the mistress seducing the male lead’s dialogue too, then writes in reverse: “Since you want to pursue excitement, go all the way.”
But isn’t this a bit too stimulating?
Although it’s just one line, they can already see the mistress’s arrogant and domineering expression full of confidence; since she’s actively seducing, she obviously already knows what kind of person the male lead is.
It seems pretty reasonable and matches the character images, but the dialogue is much more concise, and the sense of imagery is stronger too.
Is this the strength of a professional novelist?
No, among them several people still read web novels; don’t web novel authors all like to pad word count? How could they refine dialogue themselves…
For the same plot segment, they definitely prefer the version with more filler talk.
Qi Yunming watches Yu Wei’s changes throughout; these two modifications are ingenious, shortening the length as much as possible while keeping the original plot, and making the character images even more distinct.
Actually, many film and television drama segments have a problem: only those who have seen the original know what the characters are doing; casual audience members can’t understand at all.
People unfamiliar with the situation watch and think: what are they babbling about?
Because they can’t get more information from the excerpted fragmented plot, it’s somewhat like quoting out of context.
But with Yu Wei’s change like this, even those who haven’t seen the original can tell what kind of personalities the two have; this really shows skill.
He wants to know how this kid will revise next; the higher the level of the previous dialogue, the harder it is to connect the following lines smoothly.
What does the male lead say to steadily continue the scene and start the “bed scene” part?
Yu Wei pauses for a moment and, as expected, deletes the male lead’s sanctimonious remarks on infidelity too, simply writing four big words.
“You’re so slutty!”
Just four simple words perfectly embody the scumbag male protagonist’s “lucid absurdity”; he knows full well this is morally corrupt behavior, yet bluntly comments “You’re so slutty,” exposing the contradictory mindset of “knowing it’s scummy yet committing it anyway.”
Several onlooker artists subconsciously let out a “holy shit”; they don’t understand drama that much, but this dialogue is a bit too vivid; you can’t write lines like this without a decade of infidelity history…
If Yu Wei didn’t have a completely clean record across the entire internet for now, they would almost think this inspiration came from life, adapted from personal experience.
Well connected! Qi Yunming watches in quiet admiration; three lines directly cover half the original length, even surpassing it in sense of imagery—this kid is simply born to be a screenwriter.
It’s just that this dialogue is a bit too vivid; his first two songs were love songs too—Yu Wei might really be a true scumbag, who knows how many girls will fall victim to him in the future…
The wild boar king has arrived; another cabbage is about to fall.
Actually, Yu Wei’s revised dialogue isn’t necessarily better than the original; Infidelity is a film history classic mainly because it excellently depicts the psychological conflict of disillusionment with love and achieving self-salvation.
In comparison, this infidelity scene is just a side dish; the original doesn’t emphasize it much either.
Yu Wei’s change isn’t perfect either; it sacrifices some slow-building emotional pacing and goes straight for high heat intense attack.
Inserting this adaptation into the original would seem mismatched, but if it’s just a segment, a bridge with strong dramatic conflict obviously has the advantage.
Not better, just more suitable.
Yu Wei knows he took a shortcut, but the others don’t; in their eyes, a music guy who’s a layman actually understands scripts this well—could this be occupational talent?
Writing novels is the right path!
The following photographer records this scene crystal clear; although their program can’t do live broadcasts, they post on-site short video slices on the official account every few days.
Posting Yu Wei revising the script—won’t the reservations for this episode break ten million?
The program post-production team is already working overtime to edit, but Yu Wei still plans to check out the other three film crews; you can’t put all your eggs in one basket.
Chi Leying was originally quite fond of the female protagonist in this scene, but after thinking it over, she still followed Yu Wei; compared to one role, she’s more curious what antics Yu Wei can pull off next.
Several artists unknowingly follow along too; anyway, the competition here is too intense to compete, so checking out other sets on the way isn’t bad.
For the remaining half day, Yu Wei basically wanders between several film crews; the other three plays are respectively a palace drama, a spy drama, and a realism topic, but unfortunately, none of these plays have the blind person scenes he’s good at.
He hasn’t decided which set to audition for yet, but he’s really not in a hurry either; it’s only the first day, and most actors are still observing too.
That evening, Chao Yue Ban finally released the first slice of this episode at eight o’clock, including the appearances of several temporary contract guests.
They spent half a day editing just a one minute twenty second slice; one can imagine how insane it would be for the program to air synchronously.
Not many audience members consistently follow the program vlogs; basically just hardcore fans and fans of the regular guests; everyone just casually watches and looks for guests they like.
They watch absentmindedly until Yu Wei walks out.
Isn’t this buddy a singer?
Yu Wei has been really popular lately; even if not a fan, no one is unaware of him—a singer-songwriter going on an acting variety show, what is he doing?
But what surprises the audience more is still to come; the last few seconds of the video actually show Yu Wei boldly revising the script, pen moving decisively to cross out a large chunk.
The visual impact of this scene is too strong, even carrying a flavor of effortless mastery, like a veteran teacher grading papers, straightforward without any muddling.
The slice cuts off abruptly, leaving the audience stunned; they don’t know exactly what he changed, but from the motion amplitude, it seems like major revisions.
Those who don’t know might think Yu Wei is a drama tyrant throwing his weight around on the film crew, casually rewriting the front part of the script.
Doing acting variety is one thing; how can you revise scripts too?
The slice spreads rapidly, soon appearing in the Super Topic and book friend circles of the person involved; Yu Wei’s fans see it and are stunned too—what skill does this kid have…
“Although but, don’t you think an author writing scripts is more reasonable than an author writing songs?”
At least the former are both text work; the latter is completely different fields, and Yu Wei has done even more outrageous things, so this is nothing.
Besides, he has written scripts in his novels too; the outside world is buzzing, but Yu Wei’s fans just think they’re making noise.
“Agree, isn’t it normal for novelists to write scripts?”
Much ado about nothing; long-time fans are used to it.
