Chapter 139 First Popularity Award
Chapter 139 First Popularity Award
Chapter 139 The First Popularity Award (Seeking Monthly Tickets)
Shin-Takanawa Grand Prince Hotel
This is the awards ceremony for the 15th Japan Academy Film Prize (commonly known as the "Japanese Oscars").
As the most prestigious event in the Japanese commercial film industry, tonight's red carpet featured some of the most expensive suits and the most dazzling jewelry in all of Japan.
A black Toyota Century slowly pulled up at the entrance.
Kitahara Shin got out of the car and straightened his black tuxedo.
He held an invitation with gold lettering in his hand, which was given to him by Iwashita Shima, the lead actress and boss of "Yakuza Wife".
When Kitahara Shin opened the envelope and saw the words "Japan Academy Film Prize," he was indeed a little surprised.
He thought it was just an ordinary film festival, but he didn't expect Shima Iwashita to have such a big influence that she directly gave him a ticket to the highest hall of the Japanese film industry.
"call----"
Kitahara Shin took a deep breath and stepped into the venue.
Upon entering, the oppressive atmosphere unique to the "elite world of fame and fortune" immediately hits you.
Unlike the lively and noisy atmosphere of a TV drama press conference, everything here is quiet and expensive.
The large round tables were covered with pristine white tablecloths, and each table was adorned with exquisite flower arrangements.
The waiters moved about as lightly as cats.
And those people sitting around those round tables—
Kitahara Shin glanced at it casually, and his eyelid twitched.
The elderly man sitting at the head table, holding a glass of red wine, exuding an air of quiet authority, was Ken Takakura. With masterpieces like *Manhunt* and *The Yellow Handkerchief*, he was already a living icon of Japanese cinema. He simply sat there quietly, his silent, mountain-like masculinity making the surrounding air feel solemn.
In the corner, though slightly overweight, still exuding a powerful aura, is Shintaro Katsu. This actor, who plays "Zatoichi," is known for his boldness and unruliness. It's said that he once lived with his eyes closed for several months to experience the life of a blind swordsman. Even in this formal setting, he unbuttoned his collar, his eyes radiating a wild "I'll do whatever I want" attitude.
Opposite them sat a man with graying hair but eyes as sharp as an eagle—Toshiro Mifune. "The Mifune of the World." He was Akira Kurosawa's soulmate, the beast in *Rashomon* and *Seven Samurai*. He was the only Japanese actor who could hold his own against Marlon Brando in Hollywood. At this moment, he was cutting a steak with hands that had wielded a samurai sword countless times, each movement carrying a chilling aura of ruthlessness.
Beside him sat an elegant woman whose face seemed untouched by time—Sayuri Yoshinaga. Japan's "eternal innocent beauty," a national-level actress. She wore a simple kimono, her smile gentle. But a saying circulates in the Japanese entertainment industry: You may not know who the Prime Minister is, but you cannot not know Sayuri Yoshinaga. Even the most arrogant yakuza boss must respectfully address her as "Sayuri-san."
Any one of these people could be included in textbooks.
In such a setting, although Kitahara Shin had become incredibly famous thanks to two hit dramas, in the eyes of these bigwigs, he was at most just a "somewhat interesting young man".
He was about to find a corner to sit down when someone suddenly tapped him on the shoulder.
"Kitahara-san!"
A surprised voice rang out.
Kitahara Shin turned around and saw a somewhat familiar face.
Toshiaki Karasawa.
This rising star, who recently gained immense popularity with "When Designer Brands Are in the Air," is currently wearing a sharp white suit, holding a glass of champagne, and looking at him with excitement.
Just seconds before, Kitahara Shin had seen him chatting and laughing with a producer, his composed and sophisticated demeanor a perfect replica of his character in the drama.
But when he turned around and saw himself, he instantly lost his composure and turned back into the little fanboy with shining eyes he was on the set of "The Grand Hotel".
"Tang Zejun".
Kitahara Shin smiled, raised the glass in his hand, and said, "Long time no see."
"It's been so long! I never expected to run into you here!"
Tang Zezhiming quickly bowed slightly, and his respectful demeanor attracted the attention of several minor celebrities passing by.
"No need to be so polite."
Kitahara Shin said with some helplessness, "In terms of seniority, you've been in the industry for much longer than me. According to the rules, I should call you senior."
"That won't do!"
Toshiaki Karasawa waved his hands repeatedly, his expression so serious it was as if he were about to blow up a bunker: "Seniority is just an empty thing. Ever since I saw your performance on the set of 'Grand Hotel,' I've known that you will always be my senior in the world of acting."
As he spoke, his eyes revealed sincere admiration: "Really, I watched both of those dramas recently. The gentle younger man in 'Bare Face,' and the aloof doctor in 'Under One Roof'—Kitahara-san, how did you manage to do that? How can you portray such contrasting characters so convincingly?"
"When I act now, I mostly focus on my own characteristics, playing roles that suit me, like elite or warm-hearted men. But you seem to be able to play anything, completely without any trace of Kitahara Shin; only the character itself."
Faced with such sincere and heartfelt flattery, Kitahara Shin could only laugh it off.
"Just lucky."
This kid is so self-praising he's almost embarrassed.
Beware of sugar-coated bullets.
After chatting for a while, as more and more big names entered the room, Kitahara Shin suddenly asked, "By the way, are you familiar with this award?"
Toshiaki Karasawa paused for a moment, then realized, "Is this your first time attending an awards ceremony of this caliber?"
"Yes. I'm a complete novice." Kitahara Shin nodded frankly. "So, what's the intricacies of this kind of award?"
Toshiaki Karasawa smiled, lowered his voice, and began to explain to Shin Kitahara the unwritten "class theory" within this circle.
The Japan Academy Film Prize is known as Japan's Oscars, but its nature is actually somewhat unique.
Toshiaki Karasawa pointed to the main table: "It's jointly organized by major film companies (Toei, Toho, Shochiku, etc.). So, winning an award here means you not only need acting skills, but also connections and commercial value. It's the highest recognition an actor can receive from the mainstream commercial film industry."
"In the Japanese entertainment industry, there is an invisible hierarchy of contempt."
Toshiaki Karasawa took a sip of champagne, his gaze becoming somewhat complicated: "No matter how popular a TV series is, no matter how high its ratings, in the eyes of the bigwigs in the film industry, they're just TV stars. They're fast-moving consumer goods; they might be famous this year, but no one will remember them next year."
"But film awards are different. Especially academic awards like these, or more prestigious ones like the Kinema Junpo Awards and the Blue Ribbon Awards."
"Once you win one of these awards, even just once, your name will be etched into the industry's annals. That means you've transformed from a 'star' into a 'real actor.' Your salary, status, and even your influence on set will experience a qualitative leap."
In short —
Toshiaki Karasawa looked at Shin Kitahara and concluded, "Ratings determine how much money you can make, while awards determine how high you can stand in this industry and how long you can stay there."
Kitahara Shin listened to his words and nodded thoughtfully.
It turned out to be the case.
Although he is currently among the top five most popular male actors, in the real power structure, he is still just a rising star jumping around.
To truly become the dominant force, viewership ratings alone are not enough.
He needs a trophy.
Many, many trophies.
After chatting for a while, Toshiaki Karasawa was called away by his manager.
Kitahara Shin continued to stroll around the venue, holding a wine glass.
As he passed a round table, he saw an old acquaintance.
Mikuni Rentaro.
The veteran actor who had a wonderful on-screen chemistry with him in "Grand Hotel" is currently resting with his eyes closed.
Hearing footsteps, he opened his eyes and saw Kitahara Shin, whose serious face showed a rare smile.
-
"You're here?"
"Senior of the Three Kingdoms." Kitahara Shin bowed slightly.
I've seen your new drama.
Without any unnecessary pleasantries, Rentaro Mikuni cut straight to the point: "The doctor's character was handled quite well. Especially the eyes, they had a certain depth."
To receive a single "You've got some flair" from a big shot of that caliber is worth more than ten thousand compliments from the media.
"Thank you for the compliment, senior."
The two exchanged a few words briefly, and Kitahara Shin didn't disturb them further, continuing to walk forward.
Soon, he saw that familiar figure at one of the most central tables.
Shima Iwashita.
Today, this yakuza boss was wearing a deep purple kimono, her hair was neatly styled, and she looked like a beautiful porcelain vase sitting there. People around her had to bend over to talk to her.
She waved when she saw Kitahara Shin.
"Sit here."
She pointed to the empty seat next to her.
This move drew surprised glances from many people around. That position is usually reserved for veteran producers or renowned directors.
Kitahara Shin sat down without any hesitation.
"How are you feeling?" Iwashita Shima asked, holding a glass of sake, a half-smile playing on her lips. "Is it stuffy here?"
"fine."
Kitahara Shin frankly said, "It just feels like the air here is a bit more expensive than outside."
Iwashita Shima laughed out loud.
"You're quite eloquent."
She put down her glass, her gaze turning serious. "I've seen the nominees, and the Best Newcomer award is basically given to the 'sons' of the big companies. Besides, your experience and connections are too shallow. Although you acted well in 'The Triad's Wife,' in the eyes of those old fogies, you're not big enough."
"I asked you to come here so you could experience this atmosphere."
Shima Iwashita pointed to the filmmakers sitting upright around her: "This is the heart of Japanese cinema. Although it's full of interpersonal relationships and political compromises, it's also the only place where you can prove your worth."
I believe in you.
She looked at Kitahara Shin, her tone carrying the expectation of a senior to a junior: "You are one of the rare actors who can focus entirely on acting without having to please anyone. As long as you keep acting like this, sooner or later you will be sitting in a more central position than me."
Kitahara Shin looked at this senior who, though usually domineering, was unusually gentle at this moment, and nodded solemnly.
"Thank you, big sister."
Soon, the awards ceremony began.
The emcees on stage were Toshiyuki Nishida (a famous veteran actor) and another popular actress.
Awards were presented one after another.
The Best Supporting Actor award was given to Masatoshi Nagase (for "Son"). He cried uncontrollably on stage, recounting how he spent six months experiencing life at the bottom of society for the role.
The Best Director award went to Kihachi Okamoto (for "The Great Kidnapping"), and the entire audience rose to their feet to applaud. This director is a renowned genius, and this film was a box office dark horse that year, achieving both critical and commercial success.
Finally, it was time for the "Best Newcomer Award".
This award is usually given to several people.
When the emcee read out the list, Kitahara Shin's name did not appear.
The winners were Masatoshi Nagase (yes, he won another newcomer award, he was really impressive back then), Masato Hagiwara (for "School"), and the famous Kyogen performer Mansai Nomura (for "Onmyoji").
These people are all accomplished professionals who have cultivated their skills in their respective fields for many years, or they are the kind of art film actors who "spend three years honing their skills" and pursue depth rather than popularity.
In contrast, while Kitahara Shin was popular, he still seemed too "commercial" in the eyes of the academic judges.
That's too "frivolous".
Iwashita Shima was not surprised at all by this.
She patted Kitahara Shin's hand as a gesture of comfort.
Kitahara Shin sat in the audience, watching his colleagues on stage holding trophies and shedding tears of emotion.
He was not disappointed.
Instead, his gaze became clearer.
This stage will be mine sooner or later.
More than ten days later.
Tokyo, a luxurious banquet hall.
Compared to the serious and somber atmosphere of the Japanese Oscars, today's event was like a carnival.
-
This is the award ceremony for the 29th Golden Arrow Awards.
Organized by the Japan Magazine Association, all judges are editors-in-chief and reporters from major entertainment magazines.
This means that this award is purely based on who is the most popular, who generates the most buzz, and who helps the magazine sell the most books.
"The next award presented is the Best Newcomer Award!"
The winner is ————
The host deliberately drawled out his words, then loudly proclaimed the name the entire audience had been eagerly awaiting: "Kitahara Shin!!"
"boom--!!"
The applause and screams from the audience erupted instantly. Flashbulbs went off like crazy, illuminating the entire stage as if it were daytime.
Kitahara Shin, dressed in a well-tailored black suit, calmly walked onto the stage.
Although it's just a "popularity award," it represents the official recognition of his status as a "rising star" by the entire Japanese media.
He accepted the golden arrow trophy.
It's very light.
Compared to the heavy trophies I've seen at the Japanese Oscars before, this trophy is indeed quite light.
But he knew it was an admission ticket.
A ticket that would grant him the right to stand in the spotlight and speak to everyone.
He stood in front of the microphone, looking at the reporters below the stage frantically pressing their shutters, and at Daejeon sitting in the front row with a look of satisfaction on his face.
Kitahara Shin pushed up his glasses, a confident smile curving his lips.
Thank you everyone.
His voice resonated throughout the venue through the speakers: "I know that many people think I'm just lucky, that I just happened to act in two popular TV dramas and a few unconventional movies, which is why I have my current popularity."
There was a moment of silence in the audience.
Kitahara Shin raised the trophy in his hand, his eyes gleaming with undisguised ambition: "Consider this award as an advance payment from you all."
"With my next work, I will repay the audience double, with interest."
"Snap, snap, snap—!!!"
The flashbulbs from the audience went absolutely wild.
That's insane!
Too confident!
This is what a superstar of the Heisei era should be like!
Kitahara Shin.
This name has finally taken root in this industry.
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