Chapter 130: The Oscars

If you were to ask Jiang Yihan what surprised him most in 2007, he could tell you right now: it was that "Can I Love You?" had actually received an Academy Award nomination for Best Foreign Language Film.

The Oscars—the highest honor in world cinema, a palace that every actor dreams of entering. Jiang Yihan had managed to get a film nominated with his very first feature! Although it was for Best Foreign Language Film, a collective honor, Jiang Yihan was still incredibly thrilled.

For the first nineteen years, the Oscars only judged American films. It wasn't until the 20th ceremony that the Best Foreign Language Film category was introduced as a special award. Eligible films must have been released in a commercial theater in their respective countries between November 1st of the previous year and October 31st of the current year. Each country selects only one film, recommended by its national film organization or review committee, and submits it with English subtitles to the Academy’s Foreign Language Film Committee for review. Then, a secret ballot is held to select five nominees. After viewing the five films, a committee of 4,000 American film industry authorities selects the winner.

Therefore, the Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film can be considered the highest honor a country's film can receive on American soil. The nomination for "Can I Love You?" was naturally an exciting event. However, before the nomination, the film faced a major obstacle: the question of national attribution.

The previous Cannes festival was easier to handle; because Jiang Yihan was at a low point in his career, South Korea didn't place much importance on him and didn't strive to claim the film's national origin, so it was naturally categorized under China. But this time was different. Jiang Yihan had won Best Actor at Cannes, he was now a top-tier artist in South Korea, and this was the Oscars! Never in South Korean history had a film entered the halls of the Academy. How could the Korean Film Association not be excited? How could they not fight for it?

The details of the dispute were not the point; the result was that Jiang Haotian used his own methods to frustrate the Korean Film Association and secured the "sovereignty" of the film under China. No matter how frustrated the Korean Film Association was, the fact remained: "Can I Love You?" was submitted to the Oscars under China's name and had actually secured a nomination.

This surprise excited the Chinese media, and the Korean media even more so. For a time, Jiang Yihan’s name topped every search ranking.

"Yihan, are you going to the United States?" Park Young-ho came over to discuss the matter.

"How many slots did the Oscars give us?" Jiang Yihan looked at Li Ran, hoping for an answer.

Li Ran shrugged; he hadn't received notice. The notification had been sent to the film crew as a whole.

"One," Park Young-ho said.

"To be honest, saying I don't want to go would be a lie. Just thinking about a stage as grand as the Oscars makes me excited, let alone being there in person," Jiang Yihan said with a smile.

"Then you should go. After all, you deserve much of the credit for the film's success," Park Young-ho said, looking at his protégé with great pleasure. The film "Love" had already surpassed 10 million viewers. Although it was still a distance from the 17 million of "Can I Love You?", it was still an outstanding achievement, ranking eleventh in South Korean box office history—statistically, one in every five people had seen the film. More importantly, the industry reputation was excellent, gaining both box office success and critical acclaim. How could Park Young-ho not be happy?

"Uncle Park, the director is the core of a film. It is only natural for you to go. Besides, our nomination is for Best Foreign Language Film; by convention, the director is the one who attends. Don't push it back and forth with me. In every sense, it should be you." Jiang Yihan said firmly.

"Yihan, to be honest, without you, I wouldn't have my current status," Park Young-ho smiled. "Perhaps you'd say that without me discovering you, you wouldn't be where you are today. But have you ever thought that with your talent, if I hadn't discovered you that day, surely someone else would have. Discovering you and introducing you to Li Tong was actually you giving me an opportunity. You are a lucky star in my life. The Oscars... heh, I never really thought about it. But you are different. Your career is on the rise; why not use this opportunity to seek better developmental prospects? That is a global stage, not like this small place in Korea." Park Young-ho said earnestly.

Jiang Yihan understood that the Oscar stage wasn't one you could just walk onto whenever you pleased. If he missed this opportunity, he didn't know when the next one would come. For an Asian artist to break into the American market is very difficult, and Jiang Yihan certainly knew he should seize such a good opportunity. But, "Uncle Park, just one word: go. A film receives collective recognition, and the director represents the entire crew. Our film getting nominated for Best Foreign Language Film is, aside from the actors' contributions, largely due to the hard work of the staff. I think you remember how hard we worked, Uncle Park. If I go, I represent the actors, but if you go, you represent our film. For my sake, for yours, for the other actors, and for the staff, you should be the one to go. You are our crew's general representative, you know?"

Park Young-ho looked at the sincerity in Jiang Yihan's eyes and remained silent for a long time. Finally, he just gave Jiang Yihan a hug before leaving.

"Do you think I'll regret this later?" Watching Park Young-ho's retreating figure, Jiang Yihan gave a wry smile. Only a fool wouldn't want to go, and of course, Jiang Yihan wanted to, but from every angle, Park Young-ho was the right choice. Jiang Yihan couldn't ignore the contributions of the entire crew just for his own sake.

"You won't regret it," Li Ran said, watching Park Young-ho's back and then looking at Jiang Yihan standing beside him. "Because you won't regret it. Because one day, you will stand on the world's highest stage with your head held high."

Hearing Li Ran's words, Jiang Yihan looked up. With his head held high? The world's highest stage? Could Li Ran mean an Oscar for Best Actor? Or Best Director?

Jiang Yihan smiled, light and calm.

Just when he thought the personnel for the Oscars had been finalized as Park Young-ho, Li Ran received notice for Jiang Yihan to prepare for the awards ceremony—a direct order from Jiang Haotian. When Jiang Yihan learned this, and realized the source was Jiang Haotian, Li Ran knew trouble was brewing.

Jiang Yihan stormed into the office, trying to keep his composure. A film belongs to the crew, yet because of one word from the big boss, everyone else was ignored, and he was pushed to the forefront alone. How could he face them? "Give me a reason."

Jiang Yihan tried to stay calm, not letting his true feelings show, not letting Jiang Haotian see that he still had expectations for this father, which was why he was so disappointed when things went wrong.

"The film's success is largely due to you. It is only fitting that you attend the awards ceremony," Jiang Haotian said flatly, knowing this would be the outcome.

"The film's success comes from everyone's hard work. With one word, you've ignored everyone else. The director represents our entire crew; he is the most appropriate choice." The tremor in Jiang Yihan's voice betrayed the excitement hidden beneath his calm tone.

"Yihan, have you considered that my decision was based on a fair assessment, not what you think?" Jiang Haotian didn't answer directly this time, instead hitting a nerve.

Indeed, Jiang Yihan was worried—worried that Jiang Haotian was doing this because he was his son, worried that Jiang Haotian was trying to make up for past mistakes, worried that he had to admit he still couldn't treat Jiang Haotian as a stranger.

Jiang Yihan's heart was in turmoil. He bit his lower lip. "Regardless of the reason, I only hope you can make this decision fairly." His tone had softened; he was afraid his worries were being seen, afraid of his innermost thoughts being guessed.

"Yihan, I am a businessman, even if I am also your father. In this matter, I hope to maximize the benefits, and since you are the spokesperson for Zi Yi, why wouldn't I want you to go?" Jiang Haotian was blunt. "Besides, I invested in the film. Choosing the most advantageous person to attend achieves my goal. The film's success was the result of the staff's collective effort, and Park Young-ho going would be natural, but no one else would have as significant an impact as you. Your popularity in Asia is very high, and you are a Cannes Best Actor. Your influence in the United States is surely greater than Park Young-ho's. If you go, the positive effect will be much greater."

What Jiang Haotian said was the brutal truth, but Jiang Yihan simply wanted to refuse, without reason. Perhaps it was the resentment toward his father deep in his heart, perhaps the fear of his father's affection, or perhaps the fear of letting Jiang Haotian get close to him so easily. Jiang Yihan stubbornly refused. "I'm not going." At that moment, Jiang Yihan was as stubborn as a child—knowing it was for his own good, yet stubbornly refusing for no discernible reason.

Jiang Haotian looked at the sulking Jiang Yihan, sighed, and waved his hand, signaling him to leave.

Walking out the door, Jiang Yihan's rapidly beating heart slowly calmed down. A stranger? If the person inside were a stranger, Jiang Yihan would probably have agreed to go to the United States. Jiang Yihan realized he still couldn't treat that man as a stranger. What to do? What to do?

In the end, Jiang Haotian compromised with Jiang Yihan's stubbornness. Calmly, Park Young-ho boarded the plane to the United States.

February 25, 2007. The Kodak Theatre in the United States was filled with stars; world-class celebrities had all arrived.

Sitting in front of the television, Jiang Yihan, Li Ran, and Jiang Ziyi watched the live broadcast, joined by Lee Hyori and G-Dragon in the tense hall.

As the most prominent part of Chinese cinema, the Best Foreign Language Film nomination for "Can I Love You?" became a hot topic. Competing for the award were Algeria's "Days of Glory," Denmark's "After the Wedding," Germany's "The Lives of Others," and Mexico's "Pan's Labyrinth." The competition was fierce, raising the quality of the category significantly.

Watching everyone walk the magnificent red carpet, the flashes, the audience cheering, Jiang Yihan felt as if he had returned to that night in Cannes. The awkwardness of the first half and the glory of the second half were still fresh in his memory. When would he be able to walk that red carpet with his head held high? Jiang Yihan drifted off.

When the awards ceremony began, Jiang Yihan's heart began to pound. Unconsciously, he grabbed Lee Hyori's hand, not even knowing why. Lee Hyori looked at their tightly clasped hands and smiled brightly.

As each award found its owner, the golden statuette in their hands made others envious. The Oscar statuette is a knight holding a sword, standing on a film reel with five spokes, each representing a branch of the Academy: producers, directors, writers, actors, and technicians.

The weight of that nearly 4-kilogram trophy was far more than just 4 kilograms. The trophy shimmered with a special color under the lights, making one feel a bit dizzy.

Finally, it was time for Best Foreign Language Film. Clips of the five films appeared on the big screen.

When the footage of "Can I Love You?" appeared, Li Ran and Jiang Ziyi sat up straight. Jiang Yihan could feel his breathing quicken.

The story of Han and En unfolded before everyone once more, shining with its own unique light.

As the clips ended, the camera cut to the presenters. They opened the envelope. At that moment, the screen showed the five directors. Park Young-ho sat in his chair, maintaining a smile, but one could see he was extremely nervous; sweat was faintly visible on his forehead, and his face was gradually stiffening.

"Thump, thump, thump..." The intense drumbeats began just as before. Yet Jiang Yihan felt it was so different; his heart inexplicably beat in rhythm with the drums.

The presenter's movements seemed slowed down tenfold. Her lips parted, changing shape, before finally uttering the answer. Jiang Yihan felt as if his heart had risen to his throat; he held his breath completely.

"The 79th Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film goes to..."

"Germany's 'The Lives of Others'."

The moment the answer was revealed, Jiang Yihan's tense heart completely relaxed, and his gripped hand loosened. Even though they didn't win, Jiang Yihan felt a weight lift from his heart. He applauded, sincerely. Although Li Ran and Jiang Ziyi felt regret, they believed this was just a starting point for Jiang Yihan—a very good starting point.

Park Young-ho's expression also told everyone that winning wasn't the most important thing; the nomination itself was an affirmation. Moreover, Jiang Yihan had left an impression in the U.S. with the film he starred in, leaving a possibility for future international expansion—that was what mattered most. Although world cinema is moving toward a diverse form, American Hollywood remains a special place in the hearts of actors worldwide. He believed that one day, Jiang Yihan would appear there too.

In reality, only those who have experienced it know that while a nomination is a reward, the feeling after the nomination, when you know you have a chance to win, is agonizing—a mix of tension and expectation—until the moment it is announced, and only then is it a relief. Even if you don't win, even if there is regret, that feeling of release is a form of liberation, a kind of pleasure. Beyond the disappointment, applauding for others, cheering for others, then examining one's own shortcomings, starting over, working hard again, facing challenges again, and finally standing in this palace—this process is an enjoyment.

The gates to the Oscars are not open to everyone, but Jiang Yihan still had chances—many chances.