Chapter One: The Down-and-Out Director Pens Jurassic Park
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Chapter 1: The Fallen Director, Writing Jurassic Park
America, California, Los Angeles.
“Qin Feng, your sci-fi film ‘The Sunken Village’ failed at the box office because you insisted on doing things your way. The company lost thirty million dollars because of it.”
“I’ve spoken up for you countless times, but… President Xiang is deeply disappointed. We took a chance letting you direct such an important project; now we have to accept the loss.”
“The company has terminated your contract. From now on, you’re on your own in America.”
“Take care of yourself.”
Qin Feng held his phone and listened in silence.
On the other end was the vice president of his former company, Third Line Media.
“I understand,” he replied.
He hung up and gazed out the window, lost in thought.
It had been five years since he crossed over to Blue Star in 2009.
At this time, full-screen smartphones had yet to become popular; Weibo and Bilibili had just launched, and WeChat and TikTok didn’t exist. The biggest difference between this world and Earth was the lack of a vibrant entertainment industry—film genres were monotonous, dominated by art films, dramas, and comedies.
Even the most popular releases were limited to kung fu and action movies, and their box office returns were mediocre at best.
As for sci-fi, fantasy, and disaster blockbusters, they were so rare as to be almost nonexistent—even in Hollywood, only a handful released each year.
In recent years, there was a dire shortage of scripts, and special effects were so crude that no one even bothered making such films anymore.
Qin Feng was a director, a graduate of the Beijing Film Academy’s directing program.
His dream was to make genuine visual effects blockbusters!
After five years of struggle, he’d gone from assistant director to helming his own film, convincing his company to fund his dream.
Thus, “The Sunken Village” was born.
Born, but never soared—in fact, it sank almost as soon as it was released.
There had been all kinds of mishaps during filming, and the subpar domestic special effects failed to impress audiences. The film tanked at the box office.
Qin Feng became the scapegoat.
The internet was ablaze with criticism and insults.
[What the heck! What did Qin Feng direct? Is he out of his mind? He sunk the whole village underground.]
[No plot, no special effects—did he make this for pocket change? Anyone would think it’s a tokusatsu film from a decade ago!]
[With skills like his, he should be directing commercials. These days, anyone can call themselves a director—I’m done.]
[What director? Just a money-laundering scheme. I suggest the tax bureau investigate him.]
[Whoever watches ‘The Sunken Village’ is an idiot!]
[…]
In the end, the film cost the company thirty million dollars.
A week ago, his contract was terminated.
To avoid letting his negative press affect his family, and feeling utterly dejected, he flew to America.
His work visa was an O-type, meaning he could only work in the arts, film, and television.
He couldn’t do anything else.
He had just a thousand dollars left in his bank account.
He rented a dilapidated studio apartment.
He would have to start over from scratch, with nothing but uncertainty ahead.
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He was even bordering on depression.
Qin Feng tossed his phone on the table and dragged himself into the bathroom.
He stared at his reflection.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, with slightly wavy long hair and a handsome face—somewhat resembling a young Takeshi Kaneshiro.
With sword-like brows and clear eyes, there was an unmistakable hint of melancholy.
Buzz—!
Suddenly, a violent buzzing filled his head.
Countless fragments of information stormed his mind like a tornado.
“Hiss—ah…”
Qin Feng squeezed his eyes shut, nearly collapsing, one hand clutching his head, the other gripping the edge of the sink.
It hurt! Was this a system?
There was no chime, no status panel.
But he could sense it: all those classic visual effects blockbusters from his previous life were flashing madly through his mind.
Scripts, actors, lines, scenes, trivia, box office numbers—
They flashed by at lightning speed!
Swish, swish, swish, swish, swish!
It was as if a portal through time and space had opened, granting him a glimpse into a dazzling cinematic universe.
Brilliant special effects! Relentless visual bombardment! A rapid-fire montage of silver screen moments!
“Ah…!”
A minute later, the torrent of information ceased abruptly.
Qin Feng slowly lifted his head and opened his eyes.
Sweat beaded on his forehead.
His expression was a mix of shock and disbelief.
“No way… This is… a golden finger?!”
Taking a deep breath, he tried to recall a particular film.
To his delight, the script and details were vividly clear before his eyes!
All the visual effects blockbusters from his previous life were stored in his mind!
Both domestic and foreign titles—even “The Wandering Earth” series.
From works over a century old like “The Mechanical Butcher,” “A Trip to the Moon,” and “Frankenstein,”
To the latest hits from his past life like “The Meg 2,” “Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3,” and “Dune: Part Two.”
Everything was there.
“I… I’m going to make it big!”
Qin Feng was ecstatic—he wanted to share this with someone!
But as he looked around—
He calmed down again.
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Here he was, alone in a foreign land.
He washed his face and sat at his desk.
Make movies! I’m going to make movies!
The film library in my mind is a dimensional blow to this world’s film industry.
No one here wants to write sci-fi or fantasy novels or scripts.
No one wants to make visual effects films.
Perfect—then I will!
He recalled those awe-inspiring, soul-stirring classic scenes.
He collected his thoughts.
With no contacts in America, all he could do was write a script and submit it to movie studios’ slush piles.
But which script should he write first?
He opened his laptop and closed his eyes.
In his mind, a Tyrannosaurus Rex shook its head, opened its massive jaws, and roared at him!
“Roar—!!”
Dinosaurs! That’s it!
His eyes flew open, the corners of his mouth curling upward as he remembered the immortal masterpiece of film history: “Jurassic Park.”
Back in his previous life, it had premiered in 1993—a science fiction adventure film.
It ushered in a new era of dinosaur movies and CGI effects!
This was the one!
Without hesitation, his blood surging, he opened a document and started typing.
In his past life, “Jurassic Park” was adapted from Michael Crichton’s novel of the same name. Because the novel was so long, only about 20% was used in the film script.
In this world, however, the novel had not yet been published.
Which meant—his script would be the world’s first telling of the dinosaur story!
More than three hours later…
At last, the movie script was finished!
Qin Feng read it through, thoroughly satisfied—the plot matched the original film by 97%.
Only a few lines and scenes had been tweaked.
Now, it was time to submit.
He saved another copy of the script, omitting the final third.
After a quick online search, he found the submission emails for three studios: Universal Pictures, Warner Bros., and 20th Century Fox.
“These three will do.”
Whoosh—
The scripts were sent!
A new journey begins—welcome to the world of cinema, where the dream of directing takes flight!
(End of Chapter)