OBS Chapter 66 The Butterfly Effect
Chapter 66 The Butterfly Effect
In 2000, there were approximately 550 million television households in Shanghai. If we calculate based on 2.5 people per household, the population covered would be approximately 1375 million.
Based on this, a 19.58% viewership rating is equivalent to 108 million TV households watching "iPartment" every night, which translates to 270 million viewers.
And this only applies to Shanghai.
……
January 13th, 9:00 AM.
The editorial office of Beijing Television.
The heating was on full blast, and a layer of white mist condensed on the windows, completely obscuring the gray sky outside.
Gao Yilun sat behind his desk, looking at the CSM data sheet in his hand with a serious expression.
As the director of the television station's editorial department, his main tasks are to arrange the weekly program schedule; formulate annual publicity plans; and purchase and import programs in accordance with the television station's policies.
Logically speaking, Gao Yilun didn't need to personally review the ratings reports every day. There were dedicated people compiling them, summarizing them weekly, and all he had to do was sign them.
However, the data for a certain urban sitcom was too exaggerated. It was so exaggerated that in just 5 days, the TV station's ratings plummeted by 5.22% in the same time slot!
This is equivalent to the ratings being cut in half!
You have to understand that in television, ratings are everything.
Commercials spend money based on viewership ratings, management uses viewership ratings to determine performance, and even the station's annual budget allocation is closely linked to these figures.
A TV series can make a period of time popular, or it can ruin it.
Gao Yilun turned to the second page of the report and his eyes fell on the viewership curve of "Internet Addict's Diary".
On the day of its premiere, the rating was 8.54%, the next day it was 9.21%, the third day it was 6.83%... After a brief climb, the line began to decline all the way down.
He pursed his lips and turned to the third page.
This page is a summary of the caller records, several lines of text written densely:
"It's not funny at all..."
"There are too many celebrities; it's distracting..."
"A messed-up plot, a messed-up casting..."
The overwhelmingly negative reviews made Gao Yilun frown.
He made an internal call, summoned the editorial supervisor, and said in a deep voice:
"What's going on with Yingda? Isn't Wang Shuo the literary planner for this drama?"
The supervisor remained silent for a few seconds, his expression shifting between light and dark.
"The project was initiated by Director Ye Daying..."
He carefully chose his words and said, "As far as I know, Wang Shuo's literary planning role is just nominal; most of the script was actually written by three online writers."
Gao Yilun frowned even more deeply: "If that's the case, why would Ye Daying and Wang Shuo have thought of doing this?"
The supervisor vaguely replied, "Director Ye seems to be the CEO of the website 'Culture in China'."
Gao Yilun was taken aback, and his expression instantly turned helpless.
He raised his hand to his forehead and said, "The Ying family and Asia-Pacific are just going to take over like this?"
The supervisor explained, "I guess they're eyeing the connections within the Beijing elite circle. Even a fallen camel is bigger than a horse; in the area of censorship, the Beijing elite circle still has a considerable advantage."
In recent years, there has been a surge in Qing Dynasty dramas, with various fictionalized, adapted, and secret historical accounts portraying historical figures... The Cultural Bureau has not remained completely indifferent to this.
It's understandable that Ying Shi would want to make a living solely from sitcoms, so transitioning to directing within the Beijing film industry is perfectly reasonable.
Gao Yilun had roughly figured out the ins and outs and asked the most crucial question:
"What's going on with 'iPartment'?"
The supervisor remained silent, clearly unwilling to answer the question.
Gao Yilun was stunned for a moment, and asked in confusion:
"What, is something really wrong here?"
The supervisor pondered for a moment, then finally sighed:
"The screenwriter and producer of 'iPartment' is a student from the Beijing Film Academy."
Gao Yilun blinked: "A student?"
"Students in continuing education programs."
The supervisor hinted, "I heard that we initially submitted a script to 'Internet Addict's Diary'."
Gao Yilun understood, and his face immediately turned ugly.
He slammed the report on the table, the papers slid off, and several sheets scattered on the floor.
"This is utter nonsense!"
The supervisor didn't know who the director was talking about and didn't dare to respond.
"Tell Yingda over there,"
Gao Yilun calmed down again. "If the ratings drop again, we'll change the time slot."
The supervisor was taken aback: "Where to?"
"Ten o'clock."
The supervisor agreed.
After 10 PM, the value of the show is less than a third of that of prime time. Once it's moved to that slot, it's tantamount to a death sentence for the show.
"besides."
Gao Yilun was silent for a few seconds, then said in a complicated tone:
"Let's ask if they sell second-run broadcast rights in Shanghai. The price is negotiable."
The supervisor opened his mouth, his expression indescribable.
The last time BJ bought a Shanghai drama was for "Sixteen-Year-Old Flower Season," a youth campus drama that sparked a lot of discussion in China.
But that was a work from 10 years ago.
After that, cultural exports were always one-way, with most of the dramas broadcast across the country being from the north, and very few from the south.
But now, this situation has been changed.
They were defeated in the sitcom genre, which is where they excel.
Moreover, it was an unprecedented and devastating defeat.
……
……
At noon, in a private restaurant in Chaoyang District.
The restaurant, converted from a traditional courtyard house, is hidden deep in the alley. It has gray bricks and tiles, and there is no sign at the entrance, only a red lantern swaying in the wind.
Passing through the screen wall and around a clump of withered bamboo, the waiter led a middle-aged man into the innermost private room.
The private room was small, with a mahogany round table, a few lamps and chairs, and a traditional Chinese ink painting of a landscape hanging on the wall.
The middle-aged man walked into the room and looked around. He found that there were not only senior managers from portal websites, but also many newspapers and media outlets present.
His gaze fell on Ye Daying, who was at the head of the table:
"Director Ye, such a big fuss?"
Ye Daying slowly stood up, his face expressionless, and said:
"Even a lion uses its full strength to hunt a rabbit; I was careless before."
He paused for a moment, then said in a complicated tone:
"So I can only ask Director Feng for help."
For some reason, he really didn't want to bring it up, but now he had no choice.
Feng Xiaogang was well aware of this, so he didn't say anything more, nodded, and sat down.
……
……
At noon, on Longgang Road, at the set of "iPartment".
On the sofa in the rest area, Lin An hung up the phone, slumped back, rested his head on the back of the sofa, looked at the chandelier above him, and let out a long sigh.
Ji Tao peeked out from behind the director's monitor, still clutching the storyboard, and couldn't help but say:
"How is it?"
Lin An glanced at him and grinned:
"Starting next week, 'iPartment' will switch to a single-episode daily broadcast, with the time moved up by one hour."
Ji Tao's eyes lit up, and his voice even changed tone:
"Prime time!?"
Lin An nodded, the smile on his lips finally becoming impossible to suppress:
"Prime time slot".
Ji Tao swallowed hard, took two steps forward, sat down on the armrest of the sofa, and lowered his voice:
"What kind of performance-based agreement did you sign back then?"
Lin An thought for a moment and casually said, "A ratings bet. If the average ratings in the first week exceed 10%, an additional 4000 yuan will be awarded for every 0.5% above that."
Ji Tao's breathing became heavy, and his voice lowered even further:
"How much do you estimate you can earn?"
Lin An blinked and quickly went through the accounts in his mind.
He casually remarked, "Probably two or three hundred thousand."
Ji Tao's expression was incredibly sour, and he said in a low, sullen tone:
"You've become famous overnight, right? Remember to treat us after filming wraps up!"
Lin An chuckled, his eyes filled with complex emotions, and said:
"If filming wraps up smoothly, I'll definitely treat everyone."
Ji Tao was taken aback and asked, puzzled, "What do you mean?"
Lin An shook his head, said nothing, and just stared blankly at the black and white arc-shaped pointer on the sofa armrest.
At this moment, the pointer is tilted completely towards the black end.
That was a harbinger of impending disaster.