Chapter 331: A Boring Movie

Chapter 331: Chapter 331: A Boring Movie

"Long time no see, Irene. Thank you for coming to my premiere." Ang Lee shook hands with Irene.

Irene said with a smile, "I wouldn’t miss your new film for the world. How are you feeling? There are quite a few film critics and industry heavyweights here today. It seems Universal takes this movie very seriously."

"Of course, there’s some nervousness, like sending a child on a long journey and hoping they’ll be treated well." He looked toward the screen. "But it’s alright. From polishing the script to filming and editing, I’ve given my all at every step and pushed everything to the limit. The rest is up to the audience and time." He turned to Irene, his tone lightening. "As for you, making time to come here in the midst of your busy schedule—you didn’t come specifically to ’nitpick,’ did you?"

"I wouldn’t dare nitpick," Irene said, lightly patting his arm. "I’m here to be among the first witnesses."

After a brief farewell, Ang Lee walked toward the front row’s production area. Staff and guests greeted him along the way, and he nodded in response to each one without stopping. Clearly, as the core of the film, he still had too many things to coordinate.

Irene withdrew her gaze and turned to walk toward her seat.

The general admission area was indeed toward the back, almost against the very last row of the theater, right next to the exit leading to the corridor. A few ordinary audience members sat scattered about, talking in low voices, most having come with high expectations for the Hulk IP.

She sat down quietly. Just as she adjusted her posture, the lights in the theater dimmed suddenly. The Universal Pictures logo lit up the big screen, and Hulk officially began its screening.

For the first ten minutes, the theater remained relatively quiet as the audience focused on the plot setup.

But as the film progressed, the pace gradually slowed. Long internal monologues and explorations of family ethics replaced the expected action scenes, and the murmurs of discussion behind her began to spread like a rising tide.

"Is this really a superhero movie?" a young woman’s voice asked with clear frustration. Her volume wasn’t low, enough for people in the surrounding rows to hear clearly.

The boy next to her immediately agreed, his tone full of disappointment. "I thought there would be action all over the screen, but after half an hour, it’s all Bruce Banner’s psychological struggles. It’s more tedious than an art film!"

"Exactly," an audience member wearing a baseball cap behind her chimed in impatiently. "Director Ang Lee wants to film human nature, but he can’t forget this is the Hulk! We paid to come to the theater, not to listen to a philosophical debate!"

"The special effects are mediocre, too. The muscle lines look weird when he transforms. It’s nowhere near as impactful as Peter Parker swinging through skyscrapers in Spider-Man."

"I’m seriously starting to doubt if Universal spent all their money on the premiere and didn’t put any heart into the movie itself."

These complaints were like fine needles, puncturing the grand atmosphere created by the premiere.

Irene sat in her seat. She didn’t look back, but she could clearly catch every complaint.

She had anticipated this reaction from the audience long ago. After all, Hulk wasn’t a traditional commercial film. Its spiritual core leaned toward the artistic.

As someone who had seen more than one of Ang Lee’s movies and considered herself half a fan, and having directed many films herself, Irene could more or less guess what Ang Lee was thinking.

In Ang Lee’s view, contrary to the Hulk’s exaggerated physique, he has a very sensitive inner self. To Lee, such a character should have those deep-seated anxieties and rages explored.

Perhaps with a different character, Ang Lee could have succeeded. But this was a highly anticipated superhero movie. The audience wanted to see exhilarating action scenes, shocking special effects, and the thrill of the protagonist stepping up in a crisis. In reality, the audience just wanted to see a simple popcorn movie.

As a director who leans toward the artistic, Ang Lee was certainly unwilling to make a brainless popcorn flick. So, he included a lot of personal elements, and Universal likely hoped to produce a different kind of commercial film.

Both the investors and the production team were satisfied, but they overlooked the feelings of the most important party: the audience. Whether the audience would be satisfied is precisely the biggest taboo for a commercial film—when the expectations of the core audience are unmet, a collapse in word-of-mouth is almost inevitable.

As the film continued and Bruce Banner fell into another long flashback, a clear sigh came from behind: "My god, can he just transform already? If this keeps up, I’m leaving early."

Someone nearby whispered an encouragement: "Wait a bit longer. Maybe there are big scenes later." But their tone lacked conviction.

Irene quietly looked up and noticed the Universal executives in the front rows sitting stiffly, occasionally exchanging solemn glances.

Clearly, they had also heard the audience’s discussions, but they couldn’t react given the setting.

Meanwhile, Ron Meyer sat in the front row, his back ramrod straight, his profile tense, and his fingers unconsciously tapping the armrest. His internal anxiety was easy to see.

Irene withdrew her gaze and refocused on the screen.

Undeniably, Ang Lee’s cinematic language remained delicate, and his portrayal of the character’s inner world was deep enough. Bruce Banner’s struggle between "humanity" and "bestiality" was performed to the fullest.

But as a commercial blockbuster with a $137 million investment, such an expression was clearly too niche.

The balance between commercial and artistic elements was completely skewed. By focusing too much on depth, the film lost its core entertainment value.

As the film neared its end, the discussions gradually died down, but they were replaced by a clear sense of detachment—the audience stopped complaining, but they didn’t feel any resonance either. They just mechanically watched the screen, waiting for the movie to end.

This silence was even more unsettling than the previous complaints.

When the final shot faded and the credits slowly rolled, the applause in the theater was sparse and clearly perfunctory.

Taking advantage of the gap before the lights came on, Irene quietly stood up and left the theater along the corridor.

She didn’t even go to say goodbye to Ang Lee, because he might not want to socialize at a time like this. At least, if she had made a work that was what she wanted but not what the audience wanted, the blow would be hard for her to take.

Stepping out of the Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, the evening breeze blew against her face with a hint of chill.

Irene took out her phone and called Robert Smith.

"It’s basically as I expected. This is an atypical superhero film, and it’s bound to face losses. Now it’s just a matter of seeing the extent of the loss. Keep a close eye on things with Lisa during this time. Find a suitable opportunity to see if we can get the rights to the Hulk. At the very least, we need the filming rights. This is our best chance."

"Understood!"