“Action! Cast of Buddha Says, eyes on the camera—three, two, one, roll!”
A sharp clapperboard snap rang through the room, and the camera whirred to life.
In the recording studio, the lens zeroed in on a long sofa crowded with several figures.
Zhao Meiyou scratched his head awkwardly. “Uh, what am I supposed to say here…” He cleared his throat. “Ahem. Truth is, we didn’t have this segment lined up—at least not till Old Three gets out and we can fill the table. But the Landlady was crying her heart out so bad, what could we do? They yanked us straight out of bed in the dead of night for this. Where’s the justice in that? We literally wrapped filming today, and here I am in my pajamas, face caked with makeup like a layer of cheap plaster…”
As he spoke, Zhao Meiyou stood up to give the camera a full view of his slippers, baggy boxers, and unshaven leg hair.
Liu Qijue shoved him back down from the side, while Diao Chan smoothly took the microphone.
Diao Chan cleared his throat. “As you can all see, this is a special rush behind-the-scenes episode of Buddha Says. The time is 9:34 p.m. on April 2, 2023. We were stunned to learn of the death of renowned musician Mr. Ryuichi Sakamoto. His famous track ‘Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence’ featured in Buddha Says, and the script drew deep inspiration from him. Tonight, the cast has gathered to share a few reflections on how the music shaped our filming process—a humble tribute to this era’s great composer, producer, singer, actor, and pianist, Mr. Ryuichi Sakamoto.”
Liu Qijue nodded. “That’s correct.”
Little Mister added, “Mr. Ryuichi Sakamoto was an outstanding musician. His passing is a true loss to our time.”
Zhao Meiyou chimed in, “The Landlady was already backstage at the theater, crying herself silly.”
A staff member prompted, “In that case, could everyone share their thoughts on Mr. Sakamoto’s music from the Buddha Says shoot?”
Zhao Meiyou replied, “Brother Qian’s still on his way—I’ll wait for him. Site S49 is mostly Diao Chan’s spotlight; let him start.”
Diao Chan paused thoughtfully. “Hmm… Let me think. The most immediate thing audiences will notice is ‘Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence.’ It’s the title for Scene 16, but it actually debuts in Scene 13, ‘Absurd, Failure, Grandeur.’ That’s the one my program mother plays—we used it to stage a ‘birth.’ Though in that moment, I suspect her emotions cut even deeper.”
Madam Diao took the microphone. “That’s right. For that scene, the Captain—er, our theater’s Landlady—wracked her brain over the music choice and polled us all. Buddha Says weaves music into so many subplots, like the opening ‘Fly Me to the Moon,’ the ‘Casablanca’ that Mister and Liu Qijue listened to together, or the later ‘Hotel California.’ Our initial idea for Scene 13 was something Christian-inspired, say ‘Even If’ or Gregorian Chant. It was a clash between an artificial human son and his program mother, touching on ethics and philosophy—and set in the 25th century, medieval religious tones could counterpoint the postmodern vibe perfectly.”
Diao Chan nodded. “I remember the Captain even asked me about ‘Remember’ from the TV series Skam. It plays in a church scene, but we passed on it in the end.”
Madam Diao agreed. “Yes, the Captain felt the lyrics muddied things. For Scene 13, the music needed to feel pure—fierce or grand if it had to be, but built purely from notes for that stark contrast. Lyrics would’ve cluttered it up.”
Diao Chan continued, “Originally, Scene 13 had no ‘birth’ at all. It was just Diao Chan and his mother bidding farewell through a piece, ending with her suicide.”
Madam Diao said, “True. We rewrote Scene 13 countless times. I was a bit surprised when the Captain settled on ‘Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence’—though it’s a gorgeous piece.”
Diao Chan smiled. “At first listen, it doesn’t scream ‘suicide.'” He chuckled. “As an outsider to music, it feels more like winter thawing into spring—ice cracking over rivers, life bursting through the soil.”
The staff member asked, “So why did it end up as the pick?”
Both Diao Chan and Madam Diao laughed. Madam Diao explained, “Because we added the ‘birth’ element.”
Liu Qijue raised a hand. “If I may interject, the ‘birth’ interpretation is the Captain’s personal read on ‘Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence’—not some objective truth. Originally, it scored the war drama Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence, about two soldiers’ subtle romance in World War II. The film and music are both gems. Audiences interested should check it out; everyone takes something different from it.”
Little Mister said, “The most iconic part of ‘Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence’ kicks in with those rapid sixteenth notes—often layered with violin. First time I heard it, that section jolted me right out of my seat.” He laughed.
Zhao Meiyou grinned. “You have no idea. The Landlady looped that track all night. Come morning, I walked into her room and the stale smoke hit like a punch—would’ve choked out a mosquito.”
Diao Chan elaborated, “The script drops hints about the piece everywhere. Like, ‘In the flurry of sixteenth notes, his sixteen brief years flashed by…’—straight from those bars. Brilliant stuff. Then the ‘birth’ description: violin and piano duet, with the violin’s bright highs evoking new life, the piano’s low rumble like a mother gasping on the operating table. It screams childbirth. And birth is this brutal contrast—trading the mother’s life for the child’s. Love softens some of that tension, but the rest lingers forever in their bond.”
Little Mister remarked, “A deeply layered motif.”
Madam Diao noted, “There’s also ‘the woman’s body sliced into 753 tissue samples’—a nod to the score’s roughly 753 notes, though counts vary by edition.”
Diao Chan summed up, “All told, it’s a stellar scene. I love how it reimagines ‘motherhood,’ stripping away blind family sacrifice for self-discovery amid nurturing and death. The interplay between death and birth offers so much…”
Liu Qijue cut in, “The Captain said not to overanalyze. A thousand readers, a thousand Hamlets. This ain’t a test—we’re not issuing answer keys at the theater.”
The staff member smoothed things over with a smile. “Sounds like everyone loves that scene. Beyond Scene 13, any others worth discussing?”
Diao Chan replied, “Plenty. Scene 16 is literally titled ‘Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence.'”
The staff member pressed, “Right—Scene 16 names the cat Zhao Bujiao’s nickname ‘Mr. Lawrence.’ Lots of viewers were baffled by the origin. Any hidden meaning?”
Diao Chan handed the mic to Zhao Meiyou. “Better ask Zhao Meiyou about that.”
Zhao Meiyou took it. “Ah, this one. Look, sometimes a blue curtain’s just a blue curtain, and the second jujube tree’s just the second jujube tree.” Diao Chan pinched him, and he yelped. “Okay, okay, don’t pinch! Yeah, there’s more to it.”
He thought for a second. “Scene 9 mentions entering Site S45 via a piano tune—and it’s ‘Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence.’ Scene 13’s birth has Diao Chan and Madam Diao dueting the same piece. But the script holds off naming it till Scene 16’s final line: ‘Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence’—a reveal. Plus, Diao Chan named Zhao Bujiao. In the script, Zhao Meiyou only plays one tune, taught by Diao Chan back in college. He prepped him ages ago for Site S45. Naming the cat ‘Lawrence’—crafted by Jue Jue, surnamed Zhao like me—is Diao Chan’s Easter egg, a friend’s gift with his personal stamp.”
Zhao Meiyou shrugged. “Last bit’s not spelled out: Diao Chan’s bank PIN is Christmas Day.”
The staff member nodded. “Fascinating.”
Zhao Meiyou added, “Dunno if there are more hints. The Landlady’s drunk off her ass now—she cried, then hit the bottle. Next she’ll be on a rampage. Bad time to bug her, so bear with us.”
The staff member said, “Of course. You’ve all illuminated the ties between ‘Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence’ and Buddha Says. Any other Sakamoto nods in the play?”
Zhao Meiyou slapped his thigh. “Brother Qian knows that one! Has Brother Qian shown up? Him and Mu Geshen’s crew are still chowing hotpot? What time is it?”
Diao Chan clapped a hand over his mouth. “This is Buddha Says—no crashing other sets!”
Zhao Meiyou pulled free. “Pfft, we’re all under one theater roof—who’s a stranger? Offstage, we’re family. Hey, Brother Qian! Brother Qian’s here!”
Qian Duoduo bustled in, the camera swiveling to catch him as he plopped down beside Zhao Meiyou.
He took the microphone with a nod. “Hello, everyone. I’m Qian Duoduo.”
Zhao Meiyou clapped wildly. “Welcome, Brother Qian!” He leaned in and whispered, “Brother Qian, have you eaten yet? There’s really no rush here…”
Qian Duoduo whispered back, “I’m not in a hurry, but I got Mu Geshen completely drunk. If I don’t leave soon, Chai Shuxin is going to lose his temper.”
Zhao Meiyou whispered, “Next time, I’ll go with you. If he dares to lose his temper…”
Qian Duoduo asked, “How?”
Zhao Meiyou hesitated. “…I’ll drink with him. Does he think being the big brother makes him special?”
Qian Duoduo nodded. “…Your tolerance for alcohol is impressive indeed.” He sat up straight, cleared his throat, and grew serious. “I just overheard the field recordist outside mentioning some highlights from this recorded broadcast. Regarding Mr. Sakamoto’s influence on Buddha Says, it actually traces back even before the script was born.”
“The concept for Buddha Says actually began in 2022. On November 29, when Shenzhou 15 launched, I watched the live broadcast of the entire launch site with the Captain. That very night, she came up with the idea to tell a story about the Star Sea. Then, on December 18, 2022, Mr. Ryuichi Sakamoto held the ‘Playing the Piano 2022’ online concert. The Captain watched the early morning session. Afterward, she told me she knew exactly what kind of story she wanted to write.”
“After that, the Captain also read Mr. Sakamoto’s biography Music is Freedom and watched the documentary Finale. In the book, Mr. Sakamoto mentioned how, in his youth, he once lay in the bathtub smoking and composing music. That image became the origin of scene 21 in Buddha Says. The documentary captured some of his modernist makeup and musical philosophy from his YMO days, which served as major inspirations for Buddha Says. I remember vividly watching it with the Captain—one scene showed a photo of Mr. Sakamoto wearing eyeshadow. He was a handsome young man back then, with blue, purple, and fluorescent green shades. The following shots featured a child on a colorful carousel at an amusement park, and dolls in white silk inside a shop window… It gave such a wondrous feeling, like an old TV suddenly flickering to life, dreamcore vibes. That kaleidoscopic, hazy beauty is one of the key emotions Buddha Says aims to evoke.”
“In Finale, Mr. Sakamoto once said, ‘I believe Japan has now become the world’s leading capitalist nation. Technology will continue to advance, gradually slipping from human control. I neither support nor oppose this, but I remain vigilant about technology’s unstable factors, such as disasters or noise.’ I think this mindset influenced the Captain as well.”
The staff member nodded. “It certainly seems there’s quite a deep connection.”
Qian Duoduo agreed. “Exactly. Of course, beyond the widely known Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence, Mr. Sakamoto also composed the score for the famous film The Last Emperor. Some of those scene tracks influenced the Captain’s ideas for Insatiable Greed…” He glanced at Zhao Meiyou. “Can I talk about this?”
Zhao Meiyou shook his head. “Better not. But the Landlady’s drunk right now—completely wasted. So she won’t know what you just said, Brother Qian.”
Qian Duoduo shrugged. “Alright then, back to Buddha Says. Its creation was very spontaneous, much like the ‘handing out flyers on the street’ state Mr. Sakamoto described in his autobiography. He put it this way: ‘My mood back then was probably like a kid pulling a prank on someone they like, which is why I went to hand out flyers. Without real passion, how could anyone bother making and distributing flyers—such a hassle? It felt just like writing a love letter!’ The Captain’s creative process was probably the same—a bold love letter filled with her wild ramblings about music, sci-fi, Marlboro cigarettes and notes, and now this sudden interview, like a letter delivered to someone in the afterlife.”
As he spoke, Qian Duoduo sat up straight.
“In the documentary Finale, there’s a particularly striking scene: Mr. Sakamoto playing a piano soaked by seawater. We might wonder, how can such out-of-tune sounds even be called music? But there’s another way to interpret it, just as Mr. Sakamoto said in the film: ‘The Industrial Revolution gave birth to instruments like the piano. Many are made from layered wood, about six years old, subjected to immense pressure over six months to fix them into molds and shape the instrument. Those strings endure tons of tension, taking natural materials and, through human industrial processing and the power of civilization, embedding nature into molds. If the pitch is off, people call it out of tune—but really, these natural elements are struggling desperately to return to their original state. When the waves crash in an instant, the piano reverts to its natural form.'”
“Perhaps, in the face of Mr. Sakamoto’s passing, we can say he has returned to the natural form of life.”
“Death surges in like waves from the other shore, pushing us toward rebirth. Yet some things endure across life and death, timeless—like literature, like music.”
“Tonight, as we speak of death, we also celebrate life.”
The staff member chimed in at the right moment. “To Mr. Ryuichi Sakamoto.”
Qian Duoduo raised an imaginary glass. “To his remarkable life.”
Zhao Meiyou added, “Goodnight, Professor Sakamoto.”
Diao Chan said, “He was a great musician.”
Madam Diao murmured, “Merry Christmas, Mr. Ryuichi Sakamoto.”
Liu Qijue declared, “The finale is not over.”
Little Mister intoned, “Like morning dew, art endures forever.”
As the recording wrapped up, the staff member stopped Zhao Meiyou.
“Mr. Zhao, could you share a bit about the theater actors’ real-life situations? Like the current status of the leads from Double Happiness Wedding? And are you and Mr. Qian Duoduo really together?”
Zhao Meiyou blocked Qian Duoduo from answering and smiled. “Why dig into the roots of everything? Why not leave some space between reality and imagination? The 25th century in Buddha Says and our 21st-century reality—who knows if we’re not living in some unknown site right now? Just like Professor Sakamoto’s departure—perhaps he’s simply playing the piano again in his own site. Who can say?”
The staff member pressed, “But…”
A car pulled up at the theater entrance. Liu Qijue opened the door. “Zhao Meiyou, get in!”
Zhao Meiyou grabbed Qian Duoduo and jumped into the car. “The Landlady’s back in the dressing room drinking! She’s probably drunk out of her mind by now—you can ask her anything! Catch you later!”
The staff member headed backstage, only to find the Captain utterly wasted. Helplessly, he wrote in the interview draft:
Tonight, we spoke of music and death.
Starlight made of atoms pulses over the heart.
In the vast universe.
We shall all live forever.
