THOMAS PODVIN’S FREELANCE WORK
Freelance writer - translator - Editor

Within the current context of the South-Korean film industry, wavering between commercial flicks and copycat productions of Hong Kong and Hollywood films, Kim Ki-duk stands out as an exception. Although very different in subject matter, all his films bear a similar depiction of Korean society’s blending absurdity with sex and violence. A skilled technician and director, Kim has improved with each movie reaching the peak of his art with the gut-wrenching and mesmerizing Samaritan Girl (2004).
Innovative and minimalist (there’s barely any dialogue), The Bow portrays the bond between an old man and a young girl. The bow is also a musical instrument, a means of warding off men as well as a fortune-telling tool. Probably the best Korean director of his generation, Kim proves once more he can explore human nature with simple, poetic, graceful yet cruel stories.
Kim Ki-Duk Film/Happinet Pictures

(c) that's Shanghai Magazine
Chief editor: Steven Crane
October 2005 issue

Fifth-generation director Peng Xiaolian (Zhang Yimou’s classmate at the Beijing Film Academy), spent many years filming the city – as is evidenced in Shanghai Story, Shanghai Women and Once upon a time in Shanghai. Completed in 2003, the film was released for the 2005 mid-Autumn Festival, a favorable time for family reunion, a topic addressed in Peng’s tenth film. The story is thus: The children of a former bourgeois family gather in their former French concession home to take care of their old mother. Many generations cohabit and collide; each of them carrying their own burden – teen granddaughter’s condoms, daughter’s divorce aftermath, son’s lousy marriage...
Peng elegantly displays the city, while portraying a touching family tale. The movie is an audio-visual treat with excellent production, innovative cinematography and smart sound design. Shanghai Story won numerous domestic and international accolades last year – and took home four Golden Rooster Awards, the Chinese equivalent to the Academy Awards.
Massway/Tomson Films

(c) that's Shanghai Magazine
Chief editor: Steven Crane
October 2005 issue

In a real coup for Chinese cinema, Director Tsui Hark’s martial arts epic, Seven Swords, opened the Venice International Film Festival last month – the first time an Asian production has opened any Western film festival. It also closed with a Chinese film. What’s more, restored Chinese classics from the 1930s and 40s were shown alongside new Asian movies for the duration of the ten day extravaganza. Festival director Marco Muller, a fluent Cantonese and Mandarin speaker, directing the festival for a second year, said in an interview, “This reflects the importance of Asia and the variety of its cinema.” Tsui has been tirelessly devoted to the creative possibilities in Chinese culture, and that variety is there in large part thanks to his hard work, talent and dedication to Chinese cinematic culture in all its styles.

His most recent film, Seven Swords is born out of Wuxia tradition, “Wuxia literature is an art and culture of its own” says the Hong Kong-based Tsui. “These are imaginary stories developed from our everyday lives, expressing the spirit of justice, heroism and humanity.” Wuxia (Chinese chivalry) novels grew out of a deep cultural heritage; they are for the most part tales of Chinese knights in ancient China moving in a world of martial arts, or Jiang Hu. There is something particularly magical about Seven Swords (Qi Jian), and it’s not just the USD 7 million (RMB 56 million) it grossed in its first two weeks on Chinese screens – despite the foot-wrinkling typhoon which should have kept people at home watching reruns of The Wild Bunch.

Wuxia pian is the film genre derived from this magical literature (Kungfu movies fall into this category) and, in these action-packed stories, characters practise martial arts and possess all manner of magical skills – they fly through tree tops and perform acrobatics that would give Schwarzenegger or Stallone a slipped disc. Add to the mix a seemingly endless cast of characters and intricate, interconnected subplots and audiences end up with a spectacle that is the equal or better than anything produced in Hollywood. Indeed, Tsui is called “Hong-Kong’s Spielberg” (though he was born in Vietmam), and his latest production attempts to seduce Chinese audiences by conjuring the ultimate Wuxia spirit onto the silver screen.

In the trade for more than 25 years, Tsui has delivered some of the best Wuxia movies ever made in the Chinese mainland and Hong Kong. Trained in Hollywood filmmaking methods, he’s always on the lookout for new ideas and experimenting in order to explore and expose China’s cultural heritage to new generations of filmgoers.

Tsui began making 8mm-experimental films at age 13, but his career took off in the late 70s directing the acclaimed Wuxia TV-series The Golden Dagger Romance. In 1981, he was internationally acclaimed for the gravity-defying martial-art’s tale Zu Warriors from the Magic Mountain. Despite being the first Hong Kong movie to integrate Hollywood special effect techniques (blue screen), it was a domestic flop.

Since then, with more than 60 movies produced and 40 directed, Tsui has tried to find the right balance between personal experimentation, ambition and commercial success with his own company, the Film Workshop. He co-founded the Film Workshop in 1984 with his wife Nansun Shi, one of Hong-Kong’s top producers. In this laboratory for cinematic experiments, the couple has been busy reviving all sorts of film genres. “We think that the Chinese heritage has a lot to offer,” says Nansun, “[although] we’re still trying to find the stories which would be successful in both domestic and international markets.”

Tsui has paid tribute to Chinese folklore and arts; not only revitalizing period dramas and Wuxia pian in the 80s and 90s, but also breaking new ground. The trilogies, A Chinese Ghost Story, Swordsman and The Lovers are among his most outstanding works. That said, as original, iconoclastic and experimental as the 55-year-old director may be, he has managed to produce a series of commercial successes.

It’s no overstatement to say that Tsui Hark almost single-handedly fueled the local film industry from 1986 to 1996 with new ideas, trends and filmic formulas. Pragmatic Hong Kong producers copied his stories and style at will, in effect establishing a new genre. It seemed good for everyone. Producers flooded the market with about 200 films a year and made big money. At the same time, this golden age of filmmaking allowed new filmmakers and actors. Still, the market was limited. Most of these movies were made for the Hong Kong market, with Taiwan Province and South Korea as junior financial territories. Those days are gone. Now it has become unrealistic for a big-budget film to recoup costs just from the Hong Kong market.

Tsui Hark learnt this fact of life the hard way. In the mid-nineties, the Asian film industry went downhill, because of the Asian financial crisis, the rise of piracy, Hollywood and Chinese mainland competition, and the exodus of film-talent to the West. Industry vitality declined for nearly a decade. Productivity at The Film-Workshop also dropped, with an average of only one movie a year since 1998, compared to five movies a year between 1986 and 1994.

After a brief period in the US around 1997 (where he found Hollywood-studio policies far too restrictive), and several attempts in Hong Kong with foreign investments, Tsui finally produced a couple of low-key -- and unsuccessful -- movies in the Chinese mainland. Perhaps they were an attempt to assess the local market and Chinese film-production methods, but the experience certainly paved the way for his next ambitious step. “You should not define yourself just in a certain place; it’d be good to go to different places to make movies,” said Tsui at a press conference in Shanghai in July. “It’s my dream to do so and as the majority of the audience is in the Chinese mainland I should do my best for them.”

And so he has. Seven Swords provided just the right opportunity for him to return to the spotlight and expand his fame (and craft) into the Chinese mainland market. With a simple plotline – seven warriors come together to protect a village from a diabolical General – but much attention drawn to characterization and production design, the movie, in a sense, made material Tsui’s ambition. Three teams, three action choreographers and three directors of photography shot 11 principal characters day and night, for three months, to complete the USD 18 million Chinese mainland/Hong-Kong/Korea/Singapore co-production.

An important Chinese TV-production company originally approached Tsui for creative inputs for a local TV series based on Liang Yu-Shen’s classic novel, Seven Swordsmen from Mountain Tian. With genuine knowledge of the source material and a deep understanding of the creative potential the story could offer, Tsui managed to stretch the project into a series of feature films and TV series, to be shot with Hong Kong crews and a Chinese mainland cast. Indeed, Tsui and his wife and partner, Nansun, believe bilateral cooperation is the best way to keep the Hong Kong cinema alive. A Seven Swords producer and industry maven for three decades, Nansun says: “We are the people who can make it up to the HongKong film industry. If we don’t try, who will?” Extremely motivated and excited by the project, Tsui dropped the production of Initial D, for which he had already started pre-production work in Japan. This film was eventually made by Andrew Lau and Alan Mak, who, sad to say, delivered a flat vehicle for pop-idol Jay Chou.

Seven Swords is also Tsui’s attempt to reconcile Chinese audiences with the ‘pugilistic world or martial arts’. Since Ang Lee’s Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon hit global screens in 2000, numerous ‘high-aesthetic’ Wuxia pian have been made to capture the taste of global audiences. The somewhat more ‘understated’ tastes of the Chinese audience felt the true Wuxia spirit was compromised to please foreign market expectations. Says Tsui: “Nowadays Kungfu movies are becoming more and more abstract, so abstract that I felt it was time to take the genre back to the real thing.”

With Seven Swords, Tsui has found a license to experiment - and make money. Ironically, he’s doing it the Hollywood way, à la the Matrix trilogy with its movie-related products. Seven Swords will become a series of feature films, a TV series, video games and comic books. Can Seven Swords dolls be far behind? Although a multitude of characters and several subplots are common in Wuxia, the complexity of the story may have as much to do with the bank as the story. Which may explain why many critics and audience members came out of the film confused. Explains Tsui: “The clues left in this first movie are necessary and directly linked to the following stories.”

To clear up the confusion, Tsui wrote the “Seven Swords bible”, detailing the characters’ development and the world they inhabit. “Society is composed of many human beings, [and] so is Jiang Hu,” he says. “I just want to make Seven Swords close to real life and provide emotion.”

Seven Swords isn’t flawless; but it’s a success for its creator in the sense that he’s become more ‘bankable’. In the wake of that accomplishment, Tsui is piling up forthcoming projects, including a France-produced movie, The White Phoenix, and a kungfu/comedy starring Stephen Chow.

It seems likely Tsui Hark will carry on his role of cinematic ambassador of Chinese culture for many years to come. May the force be with him.

Special thanks to Film Workshop/Mandarin Films/Ms Nansun Shi/Mr. Gu Ming/www.hkcinemagic.com

(c) that's Shanghai Magazine
Chief editor: Steven Crane
October 2005 issue

Four hundred years ago, a new government bans the martial arts and a bounty is set upon the heads of all who continue the practice. A ruthless general, Fire-wind, sets out to make his fortune as a bounty hunter. He is opposed by a former executioner (from the previous dynasty, Fu Qingzhu) who leads a group of six fantastically good swordsmen. They struggle to re-establish justice, knowing they are in for a long and painful fight.
Seven Swords will appeal to international audiences. The film offers an epic story, jaw-dropping action choreography, high production values and magnificent photography. And more: love triangles, righteousness, crude realism, and gorgeous natural locations from Xinjiang province.
In leading roles are acclaimed Chinese actors (Leon Lai, Sun Honglei and Charlie Young) and acclaimed martial artists (Donnie Yen and Liu Chia Liang). But the real star of the movie is 54-year old Hong-Kong director, Tsui Hark. In the industry for more than 25 years, the internationally renowned filmmaker is famous for his ability to take Chinese legends and culture and turn them into wonders of the silver screen (see Once Upon a Time in China and The Lovers).
Hark is equally famous for his restlessness-he’s reported to sleep just four hours a night. He directed, produced, and wrote of Seven Swords and drew the storyboards. He also designed most of the film’s weaponry, the sets and costumes as well as fight sequences, although he has never practiced kung-fu.
The 150-minute epic movie (the original cut ran 270 minutes!) adapted from Liang Yu-Shen’s classic novel Seven Swords of Mount Heaven, is full of promise for those who crave more: a TV series has already been shot and three other features are in the works, in addition to comics and online games.
Beijing Ciwen Film/Boram Entertainment/Mandarin Films

(c) that's Shanghai Magazine
Chief editor: Steven Crane
September 2005 issue

Anybody already familiar with the story and the characters from the eponymous Japanese comics and video game might wonder if there's any point watching this uninspired HK blockbuster shot in Japan. Who cares? The film's investors, of course. The marketing tsunami preceding the release managed to brainwash moviegoers to go to cinemas in droves.
Uninspired though it is, the film does spark an interest in car racing. Directors Lau and Mak (Infernal Affairs) have framed, edited and photographed some gripping car stunts. The "D" in the title stands for drifting – a racing term where turns are negotiated at full speed while skidding on the rear wheels, a technique that is fortunately fully exploited here.
While the car stunts work, the directors downshift when it comes to characterization and storytelling. The insipid childish-love story, is like an overlong MTV spot, and the over-abundant visual effects (freeze frames and split screens) slow the pace down. The acting sucks too. Main drifter Jay Chou is monolithic in his own vehicle. Next to him, young bourgeois Edison Chen looks like Tom Hanks. And that's no compliment. Sure, kids and schoolgirls left the theater with big satisfied smiles, but this reviewer was itching for the exit.
A sequel has already been announced, Initial D 2: Duel in the Alps!

(c) that's Shanghai Magazine
Chief editor: Steven Crane
August 2005 issue

Guanzhou Chief editor: Christopher Cottrell
August 2005 issue

Exploring Chinese legends is a delightful and time-consuming process considering the huge number of myths. Lotus Lantern, a family blockbuster produced by the Shanghai Animation Film Studio, features plenty of satisfying mythological material (folk heroes, gods, a fire lake, a lotus lantern and a dog eating the moon…)
The most-expensive animation feature ever made in China at USD 10 million, the film was four years in the making. It's likely that a good part of the budget went to the many Chinese stars involved in the post-production dubbing (Ning Jing and Jiang Wen) and those who contributed to the soundtrack (Coco Lee, Zhang Xinzhe and Liu Huan).
The movie's universal theme of filial love will appeal to viewers of all generations and origins. Shanshen Mu, a goddess whose only sin was to marry a human, is abducted by her brother, Erlang, the conservative god of heaven. Even with the help of the Earth god, the Monkey King, 7-year-old Xianchen still faces many challenges to rescue his mother.
The DVD version has optional language and subtitles in Chinese, English and Japanese and offers some good bonus material.

(c) that's Shanghai Magazine
Chief editor: Steven Crane
August 2005 issue

"Many young, talented actors in Hong-Kong can do three flips and give three kicks in a row," said Kung-fu star Jackie Chan at the 8th Shanghai International Film Festival (SIFF) in June. "I am very impressed, but none of the producers want to bet on them!"
A major player in the film industry over the past four decades, Chan is getting a bit old for back flips but he knows the film business intimately. When Chan talks, people listen. And one of his biggest concerns is that this new generation of Chinese actors and directors lack industry support, without which, he fears, Chinese cinema will find it difficult to compete in both domestic and international markets.
"Nurturing new generations of moviemakers and actors should become a priority of the industry," stresses Chan. He hopes to set an example with his company JCE Movies, and has produced several films such as House of Fury and Rice Rhapsody with young actors and emerging directors. Despite his efforts, he remains worried about China's film industry: "I really don't know what will be the next step," says Chan.
One thing is clear; the future of the industry is likely to involve compromise on both sides, creative and commercial. True, the Chinese mainland is pulling ahead of Hong Kong in film production; the former released 212 films compared to 63 in Hong-Kong. But the challenges are the same. New filmmakers are under tremendous pressure from investors, stars and the media to play it safe. Few investors are willing to back novice directors, and even when they do they frequently insist on controlling the shape of the film. What's more, the field has become extremely competitive, just as investors have cooled towards the industry. As a result, young filmmakers have become more and more timid — one mistake and they're out of the biz.
Take award-winning Hong Kong filmmaker and actress Barbara Wong (Wong Chunchun), for example. Wong spent nine long months building a network of connections to finance her first project — A Carburetor for Suzy – some of whom wanted to make significant changes to her script. Says Wong, "You need to persevere and to talk to many producers, but shouldn't be influenced by others' opinions." Unlike her early non-mainstream work featuring relatively unknown actors, Wong's latest movie Six Strong Guys, starring Ekin Cheng and Chapman To, was a modest success at the box office.
But hiring 'names' is something of a doubled-edged sword. Many investors are more interested in the cast, than the script. For Chinese mainland director Lu Chuan, filmmaking is a power struggle. The first battle is to convince investors the project is commercially sound; the second is to maintain authority with often pompous and petulant stars. "I don't feel comfortable with stars," says Lu, recalling his directorial debut, Missing Gun, starring Jiang Wen. "I will never use a star that ruins the direction of my movies."
The Xinjiang-born director's second film, Kekexili, with a cast of unknown mainland actors, won many awards for its poignant story and minimalist cinematography. Indeed, awards are near essential for young directors. "The media are so picky," says Lu. "If you don't get an award you're a nobody." But making films to please festival judges, is no guarantee of commercial success.
Lu's latest project, Bian Jiang, will be shot in Shanghai in Shanghainese, and concerns a local teacher who travels to Xingjiang to teach English. To increase the film's commercial potential, Lu agreed to the producer's request to cast big names – on one condition, that he maintains full control of the process.

Special thanks to the organizers of the 8th Shanghai International Film Festival.

(c) that's Shanghai Magazine
Chief editor: Steven Crane
August 2005 issue

The Butterfly Lovers is to Chinese what Romeo and Juliet is to Westerners, an ancient romantic story filled with tragedy. The story relates how Zhu Ying Tai disguises herself as a boy to pursue education at a college where women are forbidden. She befriends then later falls in love with her classmate Liang Shan Bo. But her father forces her to marry a powerful official in order to strengthen the family social position.
The Butterfly Lovers has been adapted countless times in diverse forms: operas, concertos, stage plays and movies (two versions are remarkable, Li Han Hsiang’s The Lover Eterne, 1963, and Tsui Hark’s The Lovers, 1994). Here this historical legend is animated in a rare attempt to modernize the myth and make it accessible to a new generation. With its imaginative design, international production standards and inspired direction, this version could have been a real treat.
Unfortunately, the film suffers from what seems to be two conflicting aims. With an over-abundance of characters, the viewer is confused; at the same time the complex emotions of the original has been reduced to a simple tale of good versus evil. Finally, the pop music soundtrack grates. Considering the merits of the source material, it’s a pity the filmmakers have brought this production down to the level of a Disney production.


(c) that's Shanghai Magazine
Chief editor: Steven Crane
July 2005 issue

Hong Kong director Yim Ho delivers a tender story about youth seeking identity, while looking at others. With great subtlety, Yim explores a new generation of Chinese confronting old questions of love, marriage, and faithfulness, and modern concerns such as abortion and environmental damage. Yim Ho is one of the leading directors responsible for Hong Kong’s new wave movement in the early 1980s, which was begun by a group of directors with overseas television experience. This group is more concerned with the realist form and social issues, rather than any commercialism. And both these attributes are in evidence here, as is Yim’s obvious rapport with actors. Although not one of his best works, A West Lake Moment, set in Hangzhou’s gorgeous West Lake (two hours from Shanghai), offers a fresh take on the love genre which of late has fallen on trite times.

(c) that's Shanghai Magazine
Chief editor: Steven Crane
July 2005 issue

This flick is billed as "the first Chinese psycho movie". Which is not quite accurate. Like me, viewers will wonder if this is a psycho horror movie or simply a movie with a psychological subtext. The film begins with Chinese bourgeois Shen Xiao (Ge You) alerting his friend Yiran to the disappearance of the latter’s wife. What follows is a series of ghostly illusions and endless questions concerning the missing spouse. The plot is as simple as ABC on paper, but director Zhang Bingjian complicates the story to no discernable purpose. Redundant effects, flashbacks and illusions make for an uncomfortable and confusing viewing experience. For Zhang, cheap thrills take precedence over a clear mise-en-scene. As a result, by the end of the movie, the viewer could care less about what happened to Mrs. Yiran. Suffocation offers cheap thrills and is mildly entertaining, in part due to Ge You’s performance, but is far from being an unforgettable experience.

(c) that's Shanghai Magazine
Chief editor: Steven Crane
July 2005 issue

Devdas (Shah Rukh Khan) et Paro (Aishwarya Rai) sont amis d'enfance. Paro se languit de revoir Devdas contraint par son père de partir étudier dix ans en Angleterre. Pourront-ils enfin exprimer leurs sentiments l'un pour l'autre et se marier ? Parler d'un film Bollywood dans ces pages consacrées à Hong Kong peut paraître surprenant. Sans s'étendre sur le sujet, il arrive qu'on retrouve, dans d'autres cinématographies, une idée de cinéma (spectacle, réflexion ou exercice cinématographique) proche de ce qu'a pu fournir le cinéma de HK à une certaine époque. C'est le cas pour Devdas, d'où l'intérêt qu'on lui porte ici.

Devdas rempli son contrat de film à grand spectacle Bollywoodien (glamour, chants et danses, sentiments exacerbés) et fait preuve de raffinements, de subtilités ainsi que d'une grande rigueur. L'esthétisme, la psychologie des personnages, le scénario et les dialogues sont particulièrement soignés.

Il est difficile de parler de Devdas sans recourir aux superlatifs, tant ce film représente un véritable culte du beau. Il y a toujours un plus dans tout ce qui est mis en scène et cadré. Les actrices ont les mains maquillées et ornées de bijoux, elles portent des costumes chamarrés et évoluent dans des décors grandioses sublimés par un éclairage très travaillé. Mais Devdas n'est pas un exercice de style friqué et vain. Les magnifiques décors raffinés, presque baroques, le maquillage, les costumes et accessoires, et la photographie ainsi que certaines idées de mise en scène subliment les personnages et leur histoire. Tous ces éléments participent au spectacle et sont adroitement utilisés pour exprimer des sentiments et des émotions ineffables. Le talent du réalisateur, et de son équipe, est d'avoir mis une débauche de beauté et de splendeur au service de son propos et du parcours des personnages.

L'un des grands atouts du film est ainsi d'échapper aux travers typiques de ce genre de produit. Le réalisateur évite soigneusement de longs tunnels dialogués pour expliquer une histoire ou des sentiments. Il choisit plutôt de les montrer et de les dévoiler en recourrant à tous les éléments visuels (photographie, montage, décors, accessoires…) et sonores propres au médium. Toutes les ressources cinématographiques disponibles sont donc employées au maximum. La photographie est évidemment l'outil à l'efficacité la plus visible. Dans la scène au clair de lune où Devdas découvre le visage de Paro, les deux amoureux sont enrobés par une réflexion mouvante des vitraux colorés sous les rayons lunaires. Celle-ci accentue la révélation magnifique et souligne la comparaison entre la beauté des traits de Paro et de la lune. Le montage à également son importance. La séparation des deux amants est montée en cross cuting ou montage alterné, entre ici un flash back et une scène actuelle. Ce procédé permet de mettre en parallèle les tragédies du passé et du présent et donc démultiplie leur intensité dramatique. Enfin, l'ambiance sonore appuie les effets. Le bruit du tonnerre ou d'un claquement de fouet vient appuyer un moment tragique ou une terrible révélation.

Le fond et la forme vont ainsi se compléter, s'harmoniser et sublimer l'histoire des personnages. Le film prend des allures de conte de fée après le premier tiers. Tout converge alors vers un spectacle d'une intensité et d'une beauté extrême. Lors de la scène à la source entre Devdas et Paro, la lumière de la lune les illumine d'une clarté quasi féerique. Le film entre alors dans une phase plus onirique, en dehors des réalités d'une simple histoire d'amour, et évidemment loin du quotidien indien (lieu et époque demeurent assez flous). Devdas est devenu gentleman tandis que Paro possède tous les atours d'une princesse de contes. Le premier ne peut se soustraire à son déclin malgré toutes ses vertus. Paro, elle, change de statut et évolue dans un environnement qui correspond à ses métamorphoses. D'abord jeune fille qui attend Devdas dans sa chambre, elle prend ensuite des allures de belle au bois dormant orientale au clair de lune. Puis elle acquiert une situation stable d'épouse d'aristocrate et de mère au sein d'un palais grandiose où un plan majestueux lui donne les apparences d'un personnage de peinture assujettie à son environnement et au décorum. Par la suite, sa grandeur, son charisme, le luxe des ses vêtements et bijoux révèlent l'importance de sa situation de maîtresse de maison.

En utilisant tous les moyens mise à disposition, le réalisateur Sanjay Leela Bhansali réussi avec rigueur et sans digression inutile à imprimer sur pellicule le pathos de ses personnages et à redonner ses lettres de noblesse au genre de la comédie mélodramatique indienne. L'histoire d'amour de trois heures ne s'essouffle pas car de nouveaux éléments viennent s'ajouter au récit et maintiennent l'intérêt du spectateur tout en faisant progresser l'intrigue. Ce qui ne veut pas dire que Sanjay Leela Bhansali ne prenne pas son temps pour ménager de purs moments de poésie (avec danses et chants par exemple) ou des instants lyriques (dialogues imagés, poétiques et / ou à plusieurs niveaux de lectures) qui confirme la filiation du film à la littérature. Pour mémoire, le scénario est basé sur un roman classique indien déjà maintes fois porté à l'écran. Devdas est un film populaire, mais qui offre une plus-value indéniable par rapport aux autres films commerciaux Bollywood du genre. Il ne sombre pas dans les écueils faciles du mélo. Le film n'est ni kitch, ni ennuyeux et tout en impliquant le public au divertissement, il évite de prendre le spectateur en otage d'une déferlante de bons sentiments et de débordements lacrymaux (comme le laissait faussement présager le premier quart d'heure). Bref, il titille autant l'affect que l'intellect, il contente autant le goût du beau que le pathos. Ce qui mérite tout de même la plus grande attention.

(c) HKCinemagic.com
Chief editor: Thomas Podvin
Published: 21/04/03
www.HKCinemagic.com

Tsui Hark has always enjoyed playing with the two antagonist facets of the cinema industry: business and art. Unfortunately, this game doesn't come with drawbacks and Time and Tide is a good example. As an art object, this movie is probably the most exhilarating graphic material ever shot for the last five years, aside from Wong Kar Wai's features probably. On the commercial side of the project, however, Time and Tide didn't trash the box office in Hong-Kong or in Far East Asia as expected by the co-production Company Columbia Tri-Star. The success was there, but still moderate. A good cast of stars (i.e. Taiwanese rock star Wu Bai, Hong-Kong pop star Nic Tse and Candy Lo) should have assured to break records. What went wrong? Probably tremendous fast action mixed with an apparently complex plot but delivering several different sub-textual issues didn't appeal enough to the audience.

Some people stated that the holes in the plot of Time and Tide were eventually corked by ultra high-speed action, hyper-kinetic camerawork and editing. Tsui Hark never said that they were wrong, but he declared that Time and Tide is full of his favourite sub-textual themes, e.g. hope, romantism, existentialism, post-hand-over doubts and struggle against fate. I should add that there are plenty of different atmospheres and a lot of attractive characters in this feature.

Frankly on paper, this plot seems easy to grasp. The way Tsui Hark tells his story has however disconcerted a lot of people and even some film critics. But Tsui Hark tried hard to make the story easy to follow with directors' tricks such as voice over technique and a relative linear plot. Lots of supporting roles make the movie rich in situations and confrontations, but can confuse an audience used to be spoon fed in theatres. Don't get me wrong, I am not blaming the audience's capability to understand plots. The simple fact that the American film industry has always flood the world with linear plot features or easy story telling shows that sometimes people go to the cinema not to be bothered by any plot intricacy. For instance, The Matrix scriptwriter, aware of this fact, developed his script in order to explain Keanu Reeves and the audience the complexity of the Matrix worlds, which takes nearly half of the film length.

However, Tsui Hark has always taken advantage from a new production to experiment as much as possible the cinematic medium. He has used his audience to get ready to undergo an amazing experiment when going to theatres. For instance, flashy colours and bonkers editing will probably still affect your retina a few hours after watching Time and Tide. Intensive editing from Marko Mak served the instantaneousness of speed action, but was also a mean for Tsui Hark to tell a story only giving what he wants (e.g. through jump cuts and ellipsis) to let the audience reassemble the puzzle and understand. Such brain process could appear daunting, especially when one is expecting to watch a modern action movie with his/her favourite pop stars.

Tsui experiments as well in order to show something never seen before, to create something new or to revive old practices in the local cinema. In Time and Tide, he revived tired heroic-bloodshed action sequences from recent Hong-Kong movies with wire works as well as he did for Kung-Fu movies, i.e. Once Upon A Time In China that launched Jet Li's career.

In addition to that, Tsui managed to create different type of atmospheres and can even put together abrupt changes in tone the simplest fashion possible. In the beginning of the film the way a hand held camera follows Nic Tse through filters and fancy lighting and shows the exceptional tact he has with females and his ability to pull, refers to Wong Kar Wai's work, especially Chungking Express and Fallen Angels. But within this sequence, another atmosphere or strong feeling come into the equation. Nic Tse and Cathy Chui vomit after a drinking session from a bridge as taxis drive by. To me, this type of trash and anarchic behavior refers to Tsui's third movie: Don't play with fire (aka Dangerous encounter of the first kind) describing a bunch of anarchic schoolboys in a rotten Hong-Kong.

So finally, Time and Tide is worth watching over and over again for its complexity and its fantastic action scenes that makes its richness and its appeal. It does deserve a second though. When asked about Time and Tide, Tsui Hark claimed to have made a new type of action film and even expect from the audience to adjust to it! To convince people, Tsui made another brilliant feature that shows action and tells a story in the same particular way: Legend Of Zu. Better get used to it!

(c) HKCinemagic.com
Chief editor: Thomas Podvin
Published: 12/2001
www.HKCinemagic.com

Kung Fu traditionnel + humour de Chow + effets modernes + hommage au cinéma et à la culture chinoise = nouveau chef d’oeuvre du cinéma hongkongais.

Ce qui a fait la faiblesse de beaucoup de films asiatiques ces dernières années était la volonté de conquérir à tout prix les marchés internationaux avec une tendance à gommer son identité propre. Il en résultait des films pour la plupart chèrement produits, vites consommés, et au final fades et creux. Bénéficiant de moyens conséquents en provenance de Chine, de Hong Kong et des USA, et d’une excellente qualité de production, Kung Fu Hustle, la dernière réalisation du comique numéro 1 de HK, Stephen Chow, échappe à cette tendance. Même s'il a un vrai potentiel pour conquérir les marchés occidentaux, Kung Fu Hustle est avant tout un film de kung fu respectant la tradition du genre et qui de plus est accessible à tous. Hommage au cinéma de HK, il est une belle démonstration du meilleur qu'offre cette industrie : le kung fu, la kung Fu comedy et le « molaito ». Voyons dans quelles mesures Kung Fu Hustle engloble ces genres uniques et passionnants.

Le titre original du film annonce la couleur, « Gung Fu », ou Kung Fu en Mandarin, indique qu’il s’agira clairement d’un Kung Fu Pian, un film de Kung Fu. Comment pourrait-il en être autrement avec les maîtres du genre associés au film dans l’équipe technique ou le casting (Sammo Hung, Yuen Woo Ping, Yuen Wah, Tung Chi Hwa, Bruce Leung…) ? Et surtout la référence au genre, Bruce Lee, que Chow admire tant (son ombre plane sur chacun de ses films) et dont il endosse la défroque pour la confrontation finale. Même si Chow aime à dire dans ses interviews qu’il n’imite pas le Petit Dragon par respect et que son costume dans Kung Fu Hustle n’est qu’un habit traditionnel chinois il ressemble fortement à celui de Bruce Lee dans La Fureur de vaincre.

Les films appartenant au genre Kung Fu ont une trame identique : «le héros, vaincu ou humilié par son ennemi ou suite à la perte de son maître ou d’un être cher, apprend une nouvelle technique de combat qui lui permettra de se venger». SPOILERS- Ici, un jeune homme naïf (Chow donc) mais attiré par l’argent et le pouvoir tente de rejoindre un clan de gangsters violents et stupides, le clan des Haches qui sévit dans la région. Pour ce faire il doit éliminer par tous les moyens une bande de maîtres en arts martiaux récalcitrants. Toutes les tentatives sont vaines et notre ami est contraint de délivrer un maître surpuissant et incontrôlable. Chow se retrouve au sein d'une confrontation qui dépasse son entendement et y perd des plumes. Les talents martiaux du jeune benêt s'éveilleront finalement et il se tournera du coté de la vertu martiale et de la cause la plus juste. -FIN SPOILERS Le genre est donc ici respecté à la lettre.

Or donc, si les combats de kung fu sont légions, les gags ne manquent pas. Et ils inscrivent ainsi Kung Fu Hustle au sous-genre de la Kung Fu Comedy. Initiée dans les années 70 par Jackie Chan et Yuen Woo Ping et par Sammo Hung, ce sous-genre avait la caractéristique de contrebalancer les scènes d’action intenses par des gags, plus ou moins réussis, et permettant ainsi d’équilibrer le film entre climax violent et moments de détente. Si à l’époque les gags lourds étaient nombreux et prenaient parfois le pas sur l'action ou trop en décalage avec le ton du film, ici les gags issus du « mo Lai To », sont bien alternés avec les combats.

La comédie « mo lai to » (« n’importe quoi » littéralement), est le genre dans lequel excelle Chow et qui a fait sa réputation auprès du public asiatique très demandeur de ce type d’humour. Si pendant plus d’une décennie, Chow a officié dans le molaito, comprenez gags toutes les minutes et scénario au second plan, « on fait rire le public sur le moment », ici l’animal a su canaliser sa force créatrice et humoristique. Comme à son habitude, il ajoute donc sa marque de fabrique au film, son molaito traditionnel. Des gags scatologiques, des gueules pas possible, un humour décalé, des seconds rôles délirants, des situations cartoonesques (Tex Avery en serait fière) et un héros naïf mais au bon cœur, restent les éléments majeurs de ses films. Mais ici il n’y a pas d’accumulation de gags comme avant, ils s'intègrent dans la construction du récit. Les gags et les combats vont jouer alors un rôle essentiel dans la présentation et l’évolution des protagonistes et la progression du récit.

Les moments comiques sont d’ailleurs en parfait équilibre avec les scènes d’action et créent une atmosphère propre au film, pas excessif dans le n’importe quoi, mais pas extrêmement sérieuse non plus. Le métrage en devient réellement divertissant et surprenant, c'est une sorte de cartoon live ! Donc tout est possible et encore plus aujourd'hui avec les effets spéciaux numériques qui mettent cette folie en image. Chow ne se contente pas de nous resservir du vieux Kung Fu comedy et son moleitau d’antan. Il propose sa vision du genre en en rajeunissant la forme et en lissant les bords rugueux. Il a largement recours aux effets spéciaux. Des trucages proches de ceux de Shaolin Soccer pour amplifier les coups (une boule de feu se transforme en poing gigantesque), ou démontrer la force ou les intentions des combattants (un orage fantasmé évoque la méchanceté profonde d'un adversaire).

Par ailleurs, le métrage délivre un message positif et reste humaniste. Si les films de Bruce Lee montraient la force brute et la vengeance, parfois jusqu'à la folie (voir la névrose du héros de La Fureur de Vaincre), il n’y a pas de loi du talion ni de sadisme ici. La violence du film reste contenue. Certes il y a du sang, des coups portés et les effets de force de frappe sont impressionnants, mais le héros ne s’acharne pas, les méchants se massacrent entre eux ou vaincus, ils se repentent. Bref les vengeances sanglantes et froides ou autres tueries finales inutiles sont absentes.

Bien que le film s’ancre de par son genre et son traitement dans l’imaginaire chinois, il n'est pas imperméable. Chow maîtrise parfaitement son sujet et s’adresse à n’importe quel public. Les bons mots, les croyances et métaphores chinoises sont relativement simples à saisir. On y évoque par exemple la puissance de Bouddha comme force divine invulnérable. En fait le vrai talent de Chow est de ne pas proposer qu’une série de combats mais aussi une vision très personnel et poétique du kung fu ce qui donne lieu à des moments intenses. Ainsi les scènes d’action sont sublimées par des métaphores ou une vision traditionnelle et poétique des choses (une pluie de sabres, la métaphore de la transformation du jeune disciple en maître, de la chenille en papillon).

Kung Fu Hustle reste ancré dans un genre chinois très codifié, et le réalisateur ne perd pas de vue son projet. Si le film est grand public, il n’en reste pas moins très personnel et ambitieux. Il prouve que Chow, un des meilleurs acteurs de HK, peut aussi écrire, produire et réaliser avec rigueur un film chinois non édulcoré, et rencontrer un succès public international des plus mérités.

(c) HKCinemagic.com
Chief editor: Thomas Podvin
Published: 12/27/2004
www.hkcinemagic.com/fr

Since the birth of the Chinese film industry a century ago, Shanghai has played a starring role in works by talented filmmakers from all over China, a part she continues today. In the last month alone, Hong Kong director Stanley Kwan (with Jackie Chan as executive producer) wrapped The Song of Everlasting Sorrow (Chang Hen Ge) at the Shanghai Film Studio in Songjiang District, and Chinese-American actress Vivian Wu announced plans to produce and star in a series of movies based in the city. Cheng Liang shares the seemingly endless fascination with Shanghai's distinctive personality. In person, he's the sort of guy who arrives for an interview wearing a checked shirt and a peaked cap, covering his prematurely balding pate. Just 25 years of age, he flashes a warm boyish smile. Indeed, at first he appears rather shy which is altogether fitting for this young man who spends a great deal of time communicating from behind a camera lens.
Shanghai-born, Cheng studied at the prestigious Beijing Film Academy where he produced 15 short films. Since then he's divided his time making TV commercials, TV series and mainstream movies, as well as directing more personal films, with Shanghai center stage. In his spare time, this Wellesian wunderkind writes scripts and novels.
Cheng's short films have been screened (and nominated for awards) at numerous film festivals, including The Toulouse and Cannes Festivals in France, and the Independent Short Film and Video Awards in Hong Kong). His most recent release, Network (Wang), was shown at theaters China-wide, earning big box office receipts. He's currently at work on a major film production in Beijing.

that's: Why did you become a filmmaker?
Leon Cheng: A lot of film directors make the transition from watching movies to making them after realizing that it is a good way to show off their talents – and attract girls. I wasn't really a film buff, but I did want the girls to like me.

that's: You're joking, of course.
LC: Well, I never dreamed about making films as a boy, but I did dream about Shanghai. At film festivals, many works are associated with a city or country; I'm a city filmmaker. There's Chen Kaige in Beijing; Zhang Yimou in the North West; John Woo in Hong Kong and Luc Besson in Paris; I shoot in Shanghai.

that's: Describe your style and theme.
LC: My influence is Shanghai. I'm passionate about the city. I think it's unique in China and the world. Growing up in Shanghai, we are exposed to eastern and western culture, and as a kid I absorbed it all. Beijing is different, more traditional. I live in the former French Concession; it's small but full of subtlety and beauty. This is what I like to film. In Beijing, people say Shanghai is too small. Sure there's more open space there, but in Shanghai, people are more independent. Maybe that's because unlike other Chinese, we think more like foreigners.

that's: Your short film On My Way Home, made when you were a student, is a love story, but one that could have been shot anywhere. What makes it typical of Shanghai?
LC: Shanghai people are very different. Especially the women. They don't want to live quiet lives. In this film, the girl is a very typical Shanghainese. Like most Shanghai girls she wants to make friends with foreigners, to be trendy and live a fashionable life. On the other hand, Shanghai boys are weak; they live ordinary lives. In the film, the boy must attend the University entrance exam; he doesn't have any choice. He's destined to be as ordinary as his parents.

that's: You also directed a famous romantic TV series in Shanghai, Red Apple Garden which relates the story of four boys and a girl.
LC: It wasn't good. I discovered the lead actress, Huang Sheng Yi, who's now one of the most famous actresses from Shanghai! She is in Stephen Chow's Kung Fu Hustle. Anyway, after graduating from the Beijing Film Academy, I wanted to live alone, without roommates, so I needed a lot of money. The plan was to bring a lot of pretty girls from the Beijing Film Academy to play in the TV series, and that's what happened. I brought in some girls and I got this job. One other thing, the TV series was shot by a Taiwanese director and I was the second-unit director. In the Chinese mainland we cannot credit a Taiwanese director, only locals can be credited so they used my name. The series was bad, but it was very hot in China at the time.

that's: You've directed a lot of commercials. Why?
LC: For the money! One or two days' work shooting an advertisement is equal to what I earned on my last two films. The money allows me to take a few months off to think about my own movies and write novels and scripts. It is worth doing.

that's: Tell us about your latest release, Network.
LC: The movie was shown in every city in China. It's about young people so addicted to online gaming that they neglect their studies, their family, everything. And they argue a lot. The producer gave the film this horrible name, Network, I suppose, because a lot of older people think that the Internet has a terrible influence on young people. The film is really about human relationships, but the producers wanted to send a message. In the end, they were right; the title attracted a large audience so I have to eat my words. I shot the film for RMB 1 million, one of the lowest budgets ever for a major studio release in China. But because of the so-called educational content (Chinese schools pushed every student under the age of 16 to see the movie at the discount price of RMB 5 per ticket) it earned between RMB 6-8 million.

that's: What's it like to work in the official Shanghai film community?
LC: The organization is okay, but there's a generation gap. On my first three films, the combined age of the producers was 180 years! While my cameraman and I add up to less than 50 years. So we had a few problems because young people see things differently. For example, we use a German-made camera, "Ariflex"; the producers had never even heard of it. They just don't know the techniques of modern filmmaking. They are more interested in making money for their children which is understandable, and I respect them for that.
that's: What changes would you like to see in the film industry?
LC: I'd like to see more independent film production. Each filmmaker should be allowed to make a movie in his own way. It doesn't require a lot of money; with my team I can shoot on a very low budget.

that's: Changing the industry won't be easy; the Shanghai film industry is said to be the most powerful in China.
LC: The Shanghai film studios formed the first major film center in China many, many years ago. Today it is still one of the leading studios, but not number one. That position belongs to Beijing – practically every good Chinese film is made there.

that's: What's your next project?
LC: My next project is co-directing a big-budget movie with female director Xu Jinglei in Beijing. Independently, I'm working on a movie that will be titled, Zoo Bride or Animal Baby. Yesterday, I was in Suzhou interviewing a girl who owns around 28 cats, five or six dogs and a lot of tortoises. She's crazy about animals, and she's kind of crazy herself, but beautiful too. She's a crazy beauty. I'm fascinated by all the attention she lavishes on animals. It's a very hot topic in China; more and more people are in love with their pets, especially girls. They don't love boys anymore or, don't even want to touch them. They love their dogs more! In the Zoo Bride the main character marries a foreigner, but they fight every day because there are too many animals in the family. I'd like to cast Gao Yuanyuan [lead actress in Shanghai Dreams, winner of the Jury Prize at the Cannes Film Festival] in the lead role, but now that she's famous she may be too expensive for me.

that's: Casting Shanghai as one of the 'lead characters' might cut costs.
LC: Actually, you are wrong. It costs a lot of money to shoot in Shanghai; no matter what the location, you have to pay authorization fees.

(c) that's Shanghai Magazine
Chief editor: Steven Crane
Photo courtesy Hugo Hu www.huphoto.cdd.cn
July 2005 issue

In June, Jia Zhangke chaired the jury panel for the Asian New Talent Awards at the 8th Shanghai International Film Festival, which, not incidentally, celebrated the 100th anniversary of the Chinese film industry. One of China's "sixth generation" directors, his early films were hailed abroad, but not at home. In late 2003, however, officials at the Film Adminstration Bureau shifted their attitude towards a number of the so-called "underground" filmmakers.
Since then, Jia shot The World (Best Feature Film and Best Cinematography at Spain's Sixth Las Palmas International Film Festival), partly sponsored by the state-owned Shanghai Film Studio, and the first of his films to be approved for public screening in Chinese cinemas. He has also announced a new film to be shot near Shanghai at the end of the year based on a novel by Chinese writer Su Tong, The Age of Tattoo, set during the "cultural revolution." And another film about revolutionaries in 1920s Shanghai, which may star French actress Juliet Binoche.
So what's it all about? Born in 1970 in Fengyang, a small town in Shanxi Province, Jia entered the Beijing Film Academy in 1993 and soon went 'underground' with the creation of an independent production company, the "Youth Experimental Film Group", the first of its kind in China. After producing a documentary and two award-winning short films (Xiao Shan and Du Du) Jia focused on capturing the changes in modern Chinese society.
His next three feature length films - Pickpocket (Xiao Wu), Platform and Unknown Pleasures - were financed abroad and not released in the Chinese mainland. However all three works reflect the director's delicate sense of portraiture and the intricate social forces at work in an evolving culture. They also won numerous awards overseas: Platform won the Best Asian Film award at 57th Venice International Film Festival; Pickpocket, the Dragons and Tigers award at the Vancouver International Film Festival, the Wolfgang Staudt Prize at the Berlin International Film Festival and the Sky Prize at the San Francisco International Film Festival, while Unknown Pleasures was selected as the only Chinese film to compete at the Cannes International Film Festival in 2003.
Jia's fourth major work, The World depicts Chinese society as it deals with an international market economy and globalization. He casts a critical but compassionate eye on the relationships and dreams of twenty-somethings who come to live and work at Beijing's World Park, a bizarre theme park featuring live performances amid scaled-down replicas of the Taj Mahal, the Eiffel Tower, and even the Twin Towers. From the sensational opening track shot of a young dancer's backstage quest for a band-aid to the dream-like animation sequences, Jia transcends the kitsch potential of this surreal setting. The Village Voice calls Jia Zhangke "the world's greatest filmmaker under forty," and The World his "funniest, most inventive and touching work to date."

that's: Where did you get the concept for the The World?
Jia Zhangke: I'd been thinking about how Chinese people react to change. Then lead actress Zhao Tao (Tao), who once worked as a dancer in the World Park, told me about the experience of working in this fake world, in these fake situations. I thought this idea reflected what's happening in China as a whole.

that's: Explain the first long take where Tao is looking everywhere for a band-aid.
JZ: I wanted to express a little wound. When I first scouted the location, I witnessed some girls searching for a band-aid. I think the little wound reflects their life, their situation and their work in the World Park.

that's: One of the most important topics from the movie is globalization. How does it influence the life of Chinese?
JZ: Globalization, of course, affects everyone. In China, I feel that many ordinary people contribute to the country's economic development, but their return is small. This process is very painful for many Chinese people, so I wanted to tell a story about it. I am especially worried about young people because globalization seems to dilute their own cultural identity.

that's: There are many copies in the movie, copies of monuments, ID cards, luxury brand clothing. Do you think creativity is lacking in China?
JZ: Yes, I worry that China simply copies Western models. As a result, people lose their own identity. There is a conflict between economic development and cultural identity. A lot of people aren't confident in their ability to create. I hope that we can work to rebuild our cultural confidence. We should go back to the basics, to the foundations of our beliefs, our concept of freedom. That's the starting point to redevelop our own identity.

that's: Communication is another theme in The World. For example, when Taisheng's (Tao's boyfriend) friend comes to visit all he can talk about is money.
JZ: Nowadays, money is too important for most people. It affects their values and relationships. That's why I really think we should go back to the basics.

that's: Ironically, Tao befriends a Russian girl who can't speak Chinese.
JZ: They go back to the basics of communication; they try and find a common language to understand each other. It helps too that they have similar backgrounds; Soviet Union is also a communist nation. In the film there are communication problems, but also miracles of communication.

that's: That miracle doesn't seem to apply to communication between men and women in the film.
JZ: For Tao, communication isn't about having sex with Taisheng; she's self-protective sure, but she wants to build a relationship based on mutual trust.

that's: One of the characters says, "People are one thing China doesn't lack." Meaning?
JZ: It's a challenge to people who are disrespectful to others, especially to migrants who come to work in the big cities. They contribute a lot but don't get much in return. I think they deserve more respect from others, but unfortunately they don't always get it.

that's: The World has been critically acclaimed in the West, but do Chinese filmgoers want to see their society shown this way on screen?
JZ: I have been thinking about this problem for a while. We have had an independent film scene for over 15 years in China, but only in the last two years or so has it won general acceptance. Even now audiences still need more time to develop an appreciation of this kind of film. It is a big challenge. After we released The World, there was a debate about my film and its distribution. To me the debate is very important. The discussion is meaningful to me, whether people loved the movie or not. We still have a problem though in the way Chinese audiences perceive our films, and what kind of film they appreciate. It's a gap between us and them.

that's: Talk about the independent movie scene in China.
JZ: Independent cinema in China is entering a new stage as the Film Bureau relaxes its control. There is more opportunity for young directors, and we have a better chance to distribute our films. However, we still have to improve the way independent films are produced.

that's: What is the difference between the film industries in Shanghai and Beijing?
JZ: There is a big difference. Most of the big talents have settled down in Beijing. Yet with the success of the economy in Shanghai it could easily become the center of the country's film industry as it was in the past.

that's: Talk about your next project.
JZ: The Age of Tattoo is a gangster movie set in the mid-seventies at the end of the "cultural revolution." The shooting will take place in Suzhou, very near to Shanghai. As for financing the project, it won't be a problem for us as we already have the funds. It will be a co-production between Japan, France, Hong-Kong and UK. Regarding the censorship and authorizations, I am not too sure. I'm working on it.

(Special thanks to Jia Zhangke and Chow Keung)

(c) that's Shanghai Magazine
Chief editor: Steven Crane
Photo courtesy Mick Ryan www.mickryan.com
August 2005 issue

Guanzhou Chief editor: Christopher Cottrell
August 2005 issue