boyutpedia Chapter 176 The New Emperor's Coronation: I am Crowned on the Ruins of the Old Era
Chapter 176 The New Emperor's Coronation: I am Crowned on the Ruins of the Old Era
Chapter 176 The New Emperor's Coronation: I am Crowned on the Ruins of the Old Era
The awards ceremony hall was brightly lit.
The air was filled with the scent of expensive perfumes, and a unique aroma that only appeared on occasions, a mixture of anticipation and anxiety.
Kitahara Shin sat at the round table in the first row, holding a glass of champagne in his hand, but did not drink it.
The last time he attended such an event, he was a newcomer, sitting in the back row like a country bumpkin visiting a grand garden, only able to watch the important figures chatting and laughing under the spotlight. Back then, he felt only envy and a little bit of resentment.
But now, things are different.
He looked at the "Best Art Award" being presented on the stage and felt surprisingly calm.
This calmness wasn't feigned; it stemmed from absolute self-confidence.
In the past year, although he only filmed three movies, in a climate where his peers were eager to film seven or eight movies a year to make quick money, he took each step with solid footing. From the waiter in "The Grand Hotel Lies" to Goro Zaizen in "The White Tower," he dissected and reshaped himself for each role.
He doesn't need to prove anything to anyone.
The fact that he is sitting here is proof in itself.
"The winner of the Best Director award at the 17th Japan Academy Film Prize is..." the presenter on stage said, opening the envelope.
"Sai Yoichi, *The Night of the Moonrise*!"
There was thunderous applause.
Sitting not far away, Juzo Itami, though somewhat disappointed, still clapped with impeccable manners. (Although it was related to "The Grand Hotel's Lies")
It was also nominated for Best Director, but this kind of satirical comedy is ultimately not as good as serious themes that explore the issues of Koreans in Japan in the eyes of academics.
Following that, the Best Screenplay Award was given to Yoji Yamada's "School".
One by one, the awards were announced.
Although "The Grand Hotel Lies" won Best Editing and Best Original Score, it went home empty-handed in the major awards.
The atmosphere at the scene began to become subtle.
Many people secretly turned their attention to Kitahara Shin's table.
Is it possible that tonight, this ratings god will really be ostracized by the film industry, just as those old fogies predicted, and end up only receiving a "consolation prize"?
at the same time.
Tens of millions of households across Japan are glued to their television sets.
The awards ceremony was broadcast live, and because of the huge suspense of whether Kitahara Shin would win the Best Actor award, the ratings soared, even showing signs of surpassing the "Red and White Song Battle".
Kanagawa, Kamike family.
The Quan family sat around the television, clutching their cushions tightly.
"Why hasn't it been Shin-kun's turn yet?"
The younger brother scratched his head in frustration, "I've never even seen that 'Moonrise Night' thing! How did it win an award?"
"Don't rush."
Although Mitsuyuki Kamachi said that, he didn't even realize that the cigarette in his hand had burned down to the filter. "The best is always at the end."
Shinagawa Ward, Sato family.
"Honey, do you think Kitahara-san can win the award?"
Mrs. Sato was so nervous that she crushed the orange peel.
Mr. Sato stared at the screen, his eyes gleaming with excitement. This office worker, usually worn down by life's hardships, was now hunched over: "He can. He definitely can. If he can't win, then this award is rigged."
Kitahara Office, Minato Ward.
In the conference room.
Yosuke Kubozuka, Takako Matsu, and Ryoko Hirosue, three newcomers who had just signed contracts or were still hesitating, were intently watching the big screen.
"Who is that old man?"
Yosuke Kubozuka pointed at Akira Nishimura, who flashed across the screen, and pursed his lips. "His eyes are so annoying, like someone owes him money."
"That's Akira Nishimura-senpai."
"He's one of the frontrunners for Best Actor this year," Matsu Takako explained casually. "I heard the judges really like his composed style."
Ryoko Hirosue didn't say anything, but just stared intently at the back of the figure on the screen who was sitting upright even though he hadn't won an award.
She is waiting.
Wait for that man to live up to the composure he displayed in the office.
at last.
The awards ceremony was drawing to a close.
And also the best actor of the night's climax.
The lights went out.
The spotlight shone on the center of the stage.
A man dressed in a black suit, with a tall and straight figure, walked out.
Ken Takakura.
The entire audience rose to their feet and applauded. The fact that this living legend of Japanese cinema, a true national heartthrob, personally presented this award speaks volumes about its significance.
Ken Takakura walked up to the microphone but didn't rush to speak.
His eyes, which had witnessed countless ups and downs, slowly swept over the crowd below the stage. The silent pressure he exuded instantly silenced the previously noisy scene, so much so that you could hear a pin drop.
-
"Film is an art of regret."
He spoke, his voice deep and magnetic: "But amidst regret, there are always some souls who try to fill those voids with their performances. Tonight's five nominees are all such souls."
Highlights of the five finalists began playing on the big screen.
Akira Nishimura's wrinkled, weathered face in "The Last Blow".
Hiroyuki Sanada's neurotic outburst in "That's Us, Just a Little Bit".
besides----
In "The Grand Hotel Lies," Kitahara Shin's eerie smile before the film ends sends chills down your spine.
The camera cuts back to the scene.
It was given to the candidates sitting in the audience.
Akira Nishimura straightened his back, a reserved smile on his face, and even adjusted his collar, as if he were ready to go on stage to receive an award.
Kitahara Shin simply sat quietly, even taking a sip of champagne, his gaze as calm as if he were watching someone else's spectacle.
Ken Takakura picked up the envelope.
open.
He took out the card and glanced at it.
Then, he fell silent.
one second.
two seconds.
three seconds.
Those three seconds were a triumphant three seconds for the "conservative" old fogies on the judging panel. They thought Ken Takakura was paving the way for the announcement of the veteran actor's name.
For viewers in front of their televisions, those were three seconds of suffocation.
Ken Takakura looked up, a rare smile of appreciation appearing on his face.
He paused deliberately, as if to let the final suspense build to its peak.
"Although I would love to say something encouraging to young people, I think that encouragement is unnecessary for this award winner."
All he needs is a stage.
"17th Japan Academy Film Prize, Best Actor"
Ken Takakura's voice rose a few decibels, clearly penetrating the entire hall: "Nobu Kitahara, *The Grand Hotel's Lies*!"
"boom-!!!"
At that moment, thunderous applause erupted.
The crowd cheered.
The young actors sitting in the back row jumped up, and Juzo Itami was so excited that he hugged Rentaro Mikuni next to him (although Rentaro Mikuni was also a rival, who cared about that at the moment).
in front of the TV.
The Pu Chi family erupted in cheers as if it were New Year's Day. Quan Shui was so excited that he covered his mouth and tears welled up in his eyes.
At the Sato family home, Ken was excitedly bouncing around on the sofa when Mr. Sato clenched his fist and exclaimed, "Yes!!"
Inside the office, Ryoko Hirosue stared at the screen, her eyes gleaming with an almost frightening intensity.
on site.
Kitahara Shin stood up.
He buttoned up his suit jacket and took a deep breath.
Although I was mentally prepared, when that name was actually uttered by Ken Takakura, the weight of it all still weighed on my shoulders.
This is more than just a trophy.
This is the admission ticket.
This is proof that he has truly established himself and gained a voice in the prejudiced and hierarchical entertainment industry.
He turned around, hugged Itami Juzo, and shook hands with the others at the table.
Then, he strode onto the stage.
Behind him were countless complex eyes.
On the judges' panel.
The goatee-wearing old man nearly dropped his wine glass, his face filled with astonishment and disbelief. The fat old man next to him stared wide-eyed, like a goldfish suffocating from lack of oxygen.
How is that possible?!
We already made arrangements! We clearly agreed it would be for Akira Nishimura!
They all turned to look at Sayuri Yoshinaga, who was sitting in the very front row.
The actress sat quietly, an elegant smile on her face, clapping gently with both hands. She didn't glance at those old-fashioned people; her gaze remained fixed on the young man walking onto the stage.
That kind of silent support is more powerful than any words.
Kitahara Shin walked onto the stage and accepted the heavy trophy from Takakura Ken.
"Congratulations." Ken Takakura shook his hand firmly. "You're a promising young man."
"Thank you, senior."
Kitahara Shin walked up to the microphone.
The spotlight shone on him, somewhat blinding, but it also made it impossible for him to see the faces of the people below the stage.
But he knew they were there.
Those who want to see him fail, those who want to bring him down, those who cling to the old rules.
He adjusted the height of the microphone.
The whole place fell silent.
Some people say that actors have an expiration date.
His voice, carried through the speakers, resonated in every corner, calm yet carrying an undeniable power: "They say youth is both an asset and a disadvantage. They say we need to accumulate experience, learn the rules, and wait for our time to come."
"But I don't think so."
Kitahara Shin raised his head, his gaze fixed on the camera, as if looking at everyone in front of the screen, and also at the ashen-faced old men in the audience: "I believe an actor's life is limitless. As long as I can create a memorable character for everyone at this moment, bring a little joy to everyone's tiring lives, and make everyone feel that watching this play was truly worthwhile."
"That's the most important thing to me."
He raised the trophy in his hand, glanced at it, and then, instead of kissing it like the others, gently placed it on the podium.
"So, no matter when, even now that I've won this Best Actor award, I don't think it proves that I've reached the end."
"My life, everyone's life, and my future works—all of this is just beginning."
"For me, the real show is just beginning."
"This trophy is not the end, but a declaration of war for me to march into a wider world."
The words fell.
After a brief silence.
The applause erupted again, even more enthusiastic and enthusiastic than before.
This is the declaration of the victors.
It is also a declaration of a new era.
The director very considerately switched to a different shot.
On screen, Akira Nishimura, who had previously mocked Shin Kitahara backstage, now sits stiffly in a chair, his face ashen, his lips twitching as he tries to force a smile, but it looks worse than crying.
The "conservative" judges next to him looked at each other, embarrassed and ashamed, as if they had swallowed flies.
Face slap.
A complete slap in the face.
At that moment, the viewers in front of their televisions felt absolutely thrilled.
After the awards ceremony.
Inside the banquet hall, glasses clinked and toasts were exchanged.
Now, Kitahara Shin has become the absolute center.
Countless big-name producers and directors who would normally have no say in the conversation were now gathered around him with wine glasses in hand, smiling broadly as they handed him their business cards and offered compliments.
"Kitahara-san, congratulations! Do you have any availability for your next project?"
"Kitahara-san, I'm from Toei Animation—"
"Kitahara-san————"
-
Kitahara Shin maintained a polite smile as he dealt with each question. His manners were impeccable, but a clear-eyed detachment remained deep within his eyes.
After finishing all the social engagements.
He saw Sayuri Yoshinaga standing in the corner, chatting with several veteran directors.
Kitahara Shin walked over.
"Professor Yoshinaga".
Sayuri Yoshinaga turned around, saw it was him, and her smile became more genuine. She nodded to her old friends beside her, indicating to wait a moment, and then turned to Shin Kitahara.
"Congratulations."
She raised her champagne glass and gently touched it to Kitahara Shin's glass. "The newly crowned Best Actor."
"Thanks to you," Kitahara Shin said sincerely, lowering his voice.
Sayuri Yoshinaga shook her head: "Although some people want to target you and do some dirty tricks, everyone has eyes. If this award isn't given to truly good acting, then there's no point in having this Academy Award."
"So, you don't need to thank me. You just need to continue being yourself and don't need to conform to any inexplicable rules."
She looked into Kitahara Shin's eyes, her tone gentle yet firm: "What we actors need to do is to perform our roles well, fulfill the purpose of our characters, and give our souls to them. That's enough."
Hearing these words, Kitahara Shin felt a warmth in his heart.
This is what a true artist is.
Compared to those old-fashioned people who spend all their time calculating interests and seniority, Sayuri Yoshinaga's vision is simply unparalleled.
"I understand." Kitahara Shin nodded.
"very good."
Sayuri Yoshinaga smiled, her goddess-like playfulness returning: "Then I look forward to the day we work together on a TV series. I hope your acting skills haven't declined by then. If you can't keep up with my performance, I'll definitely yell at you on the spot, you know."
No, it won't.
Kitahara Shin smiled confidently, "I will do my best."
,,the next day.
Kitahara Shin wins Best Actor!
"A 24-Year-Old New Best Actor! A Miracle in Japanese Film History!"
After the towering tower, let's climb to the top again!
The front pages of major newspapers were dominated by photos of Kitahara Shin. His powerful acceptance speech was played on a loop on television news.
The whole of Japan is talking about this young Best Actor.
Everyone is saying that he deserved the award, and that it was only right for Goro Zaizen from "The White Tower" to win it.
But actually————
Many people have overlooked a somewhat funny fact.
The film for which Shin Kitahara won Best Actor was not the nationally acclaimed "The White Tower" (because television dramas are not eligible for film awards), but rather "The Grand Hotel Lies," which was criticized by many as "nonsensical" in its early days and only achieved moderate box office success.
Many viewers, unaware of the facts, watched the news and wondered, "Huh? Professor Zaizen won the award? That's great!"
"Wait a minute—what's 'The Grand Hotel'? Did he act in that too?"
"Who cares! Anyway, it's a good thing that Kitahara-kun won the award!"
This beautiful misunderstanding caused the sales of "The Grand Hotel Lies" videotapes to skyrocket overnight, and Juzo Itami couldn't stop smiling, calling Shin Kitahara his lucky star.
The world is truly amazing.
The flowers you carefully plant may not bloom, but the willows you plant unintentionally may unexpectedly grow into a forest.
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