Hollywood: Lights, Ink, Entertainment!

....

"And?"

Jackie opened his mouth, paused, then suddenly laughed.

"Okay. That’s actually why I like it."

He flipped through several pages until he stopped at one of the match sequences.

"Wait a minute..." Jackie leaned closer to the page. "This guy actually kicks the ball hard enough to break the goal?"

"That is the idea."

Jackie looked up. "And the Iron Head guy really uses his head to play football?"

Regal nodded.

Jackie stared at him for a second before breaking into a laugh. "You know, when you first started telling me this story, I thought you were trying to make something serious."

"It is a serious film."

"....." Jackie studied him for another second before looking back at the pages.

That was when it finally clicked.

The film itself wasn’t taking its premise seriously, and that was clearly deliberate. The absurd martial arts techniques, ridiculous characters and impossible football sequences weren’t accidents or signs of careless writing.

Regal knew exactly how silly the concept was and was leaning into it completely.

Yet the writing underneath all that absurdity was anything but careless.

The comedy had structure, the characters had purpose, and even the action followed its own logic. Even the ridiculous techniques were built around specific personalities and fighting styles.

Jackie slowly lowered the pages, a grin spreading across his face.

"Ah... now I understand."

Regal raised an eyebrow. "Understand what?"

Jackie pulled the script closer.

"I think I like this...."

Regal smiled. "I am glad we are on the same page."

His tone then shifted, becoming quieter and more serious.

"But football isn’t the only thing that matters, Jackie. I am not planning to produce this as a standard Hollywood studio project."

Jackie tilted his head, his interest fully captured. "What do you mean?"

"We’re shooting the entire film in China." Regal said firmly. "With an entirely Chinese cast, local crews, and Cantonese as the original language. Once the final cut is locked, we’ll produce a high quality English dub for the international theatrical release, but the film itself will remain rooted in the culture and place where its martial arts spirit was born."

Jackie’s cup clicked sharply against the wooden tray, and he stared at Regal in complete disbelief.

"What?" Jackie blurted out. "Regal, you want to leave Los Angeles, fly all the way to mainland China, and make a movie in Cantonese?"

"I do." Regal nodded confidently.

"But the risk..."

Jackie’s voice carried genuine, protective concern, but he chose to voice it anyway. Regal wasn’t a fool, and he already understood what was at stake if the film bombed.

He could already imagine how the Hollywood media would tear him apart. They would say the golden boy of Burbank had finally lost his mind, that his arrogance had driven him straight into the ground.

And the Chinese press would be no kinder. Regal knew how fiercely protective they could be when Western filmmakers attempted to portray their cultural heritage.

If he got it wrong, they could accuse him of commercial exploitation or claim he didn’t understand the philosophy and traditions behind Shaolin martial arts.

Jackie leaned closer, his eyes bright with a mixture of concern and reluctant admiration.

"You’re risking your entire reputation on a movie about kung fu and football."

Regal didn’t flinch. "Actually, that’s not quite right. I am not risking my reputation on a kung fu soccer movie. I am risking it on making the right kung fu soccer movie."

He took a sip before continuing.

"If I make this in Los Angeles, cast American actors, shoot everything in English and add the Chinese elements afterward, then yes, I would be gambling on a gimmick. The audience would see a Hollywood movie pretending to be Chinese."

He placed the cup back on the tray. "I don’t want that."

Jackie’s expression slowly became more serious.

"I want actors who understand the culture and people who grew up with these traditions, so the language sounds natural, the jokes land properly, and the martial arts feel like something these characters genuinely know rather than something an American stunt team learned three weeks before shooting."

Jackie remained silent.

"And if we fail." Regal continued. "Then we will fail honestly."

That made Jackie pause.

Regal leaned back. "But I don’t think we will."

Jackie gave him a doubtful look. "You say that very easily."

"I have already seen the film in my head."

"Ah." Jackie shook his head with a small laugh. "You know what happens when a director says that?"

"They become successful?"

Jackie completed. "...and impossible to argue with."

Regal smiled.

Jackie picked up his teacup again but didn’t drink from it. "And the Chinese audience?"

"They’re the first audience I care about."

That answer caught Jackie off guard.

Regal continued. "If someone in China watches this and thinks, ’This understands us,’ then I have done my job. Everything after that is a bonus."

Jackie studied him for several seconds. "And Hollywood?"

"They will survive without me for a few months."

Jackie laughed. "You really have thought about this."

"Of course."

"You know, when I first met you, I thought you were brave." Jackie stared at him before shaking his head.

He smiled.

"Now I think you’re crazy."

Regal raised his cup. "Those two things aren’t mutually exclusive."

"...." Jackie stared at him for a long, silent moment, the realization of what Regal was offering washing over him.

This wasn’t a standard corporate deal or a Hollywood executive handing him a contract with a checklist of commercial requirements, but a true storyteller standing at the edge of a cliff, completely willing to jump because he believed in the beauty of the landing.

In that single moment, every ounce of Jackie’s lingering frustration and self-doubt evaporated, replaced by a deep, permanent respect that would bind their careers for the next decade.

"Alright." Jackie said, his voice steady, his fists clenching with a sudden, powerful resolve. "You don’t need to say another word. I am in, and I don’t care about the budget or the salary....

"My stunt team, the Sing Kar Ban, is yours, I will handle the local government clearances in Beijing, secure the filming permits for the Shanghai stadiums, personally help you find every actor we need, and together, we will build the Jade Bridge."

He reached out, his hand open.

Regal smiled, extending his right hand and shaking Jackie’s with a firm grip.

Yet beneath the surface, Regal’s mind was calculating every logistical risk.

From the memories of his previous world, he knew the hidden landmines surrounding this exact story.

In that past timeline, the film had suffered a devastating regulatory fate.

Mainland Chinese censors had pushed back aggressively against the title, claiming that pairing the sacred, historic name of the Shaolin Monastery with a secular comedy ’made too much fun of football’ and tarnished the cultural dignity of the monks.

When the original Hong Kong production chose to bypass those ongoing negotiations and unilaterally premier the film in Hong Kong theaters anyway, the State Administration viewed it as a blatant regulatory defiance.

The punishment was swift: a total theatrical ban across all mainland Chinese cinemas.

Even though that ban had backfired into an uncontrollable black-market boom, spreading pirated VCDs across every street corner and turning it into an overnight cult classic across the mainland anyway.

It was a financial and regulatory catastrophe that Regal was determined never to repeat in this world. He wasn’t going to let bureaucratic clashes or unauthorized release blunders derail his bridge into the Chinese market.

He would handle the cultural bureau with more care, securing legitimate clearances without compromising the artistic soul of the story.

Meanwhile Jackie sat in absolute stillness, the sheer absurdity of the premise settling into his mind.

He looked from Regal to the script, then back again.

"Now." Jackie grinned, his eyes sparkling with an academic, almost childlike excitement. "Can I re-read the script, please?"

"It’s all yours." Regal said, nodding toward the silk-bound manuscript.

....

And in the quiet of the eighteenth floor office, as the twilight faded into a deep, velvety blue across the Los Angeles basin, the master began to read.

He flipped further, stopping at one of the climactic match sequences.

Jackie leaned closer, his eyes widening at the descriptions. "The only thing I am doubtful about here is... How are we supposed to explain the physics of a human kicking a ball like that?"

"Do we have to?" Regal replied smoothly, a faint, confident smirk playing across his lips–

"I say we throw real world sports physics out the window entirely. The action shouldn’t follow Premier League mechanics, but the logic of anime, with Sing’s flaming strike serving as a live action translation of an anime style special move. We lean into the fantasy completely."

Jackie stared at him, fascinated. "And the visual effects? I am not very knowledgeable in that department."

"That is something you don’t have to worry about. It’s my job." Regal said calmly, leaning back with an amused glint in his eyes.

Jackie blinked, momentarily caught off guard before his eyes went wide. He suddenly clapped his hands together, bursting into a booming laugh.

"Aiya! Right!" He chuckled, pointing an accusing finger at Regal. "How did I forget? I am sitting here worrying about something, not my job. And not to mention the techniques you have invented through vfx in your films. The whole world is still copying what you did, and here I am lecturing the master!"

"Thank you."

Regal laughed softly, enjoying the banter, before shaking his head.

Jackie studied him for a long beat, his grin lingering as he looked back down at the pages.

That was when it finally clicked.

The absurd martial arts, the heightened anime logic, and the impossible football maneuvers weren’t careless gags.

The comedy had structural discipline, the characters had emotional roots, and the action carried a distinct language.

Jackie slowly lowered the manuscript, a wide, genuine grin spreading across his face.

.

....

[To be continued...]

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A Small Announcement

Hey everyone!

If you’ve been enjoying [Hollywood: Lights, Ink, Entertainment!], I wanted to let you guys know about another story I’ve recently released under OrgoWriters.

🔥 [MHA: I Became Endeavor, Now I’ll Fix Everything]

It’s a completely different kind of story from Hollywood, but I’m really excited about how it’s turning out. If you’re a fan of MHA, or just want to give another one of my stories a try, I’d really appreciate you checking it out!

Thanks, as always, for reading and supporting my work! ❤️

— OrgoWriters

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