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

http://lazyway.blogs.com/

“Hard work is passé. The paradigm-shifting concept is smart laziness.”
According to Fred Gratzon, success means cleverly avoiding work but still getting the job done. He should know. Gratzon’s claims never to have held a job for more than two months, and is one of only five people in the entire history of the US government to have been sacked from a civil-service job. Nevertheless, he founded several highly successful companies (ice cream and telecommunications) using ‘The Lazy Way to Success’ formula. This intriguing blog features tongue-in-cheek essays on laziness, business and self-employment, the sum of which is Gratzon’s maxim that the concept of hard work is a fraud. Or put another way: by doing less, one can accomplish more. Hard work, says Gratzon, has nothing to do with success; efficiency is the key to a rewarding life. “The time has come to reject work and enjoy greater health, peace, and prosperity,” says Gratzon. To which we can only add: Amen.

(c) that's Shanghai Magazine
Chief editor: Steven Crane
May 2006 issue

http://www.zhouxinfang.com/

Widely regarded as one of China’s cultural treasures, Beijing Opera began when the Four Great Anhui Troupes came to the city in 1790. With a traditional repertoire of more than 1,000 works, mostly taken from historical novels or traditional stories about civil, political and military struggles, this art form has been, and still is, highly influential. Due, in no small part, to Opera master Zhou Xinfang (1895-1975), a contemporary of Mei Lanfang, who brought a style all his own to less than plastic art form. Zhou founded the Qi style, and in his seventy-year long career performed 600 different Beijing Opera titles. His work inspired several generations of audiences, colleagues, and, not surprisingly, his family. Indeed, his daughter, Tsai Chin, is an internationally renowned stage and screen actress (The World of Suzie Wong [West End]; Joy Luck Club, Virgin Soldier, You Only Live Twice and Memoirs of a Geisha). While Zhou’s granddaughter, China Chow, is a top model and a Hollywood actress. Talent must lie in genes.

(c) that's Shanghai Magazine
Chief editor: Steven Crane
May 2006 issue

Though famous throughout the world for its macho Kung Fu flicks, Chinese cinema has yet to discover its feminine side. More often than not, female characters are mere prizes for the high-kicking champion to use as he sees fit. Sadly, three-dimensional female roles are few and far between. Recently, however, the subject of on-screen gender equality has received a kick in the pants.

Last month, the University of Hong Kong organized a symposium – The Film Scene: Cinema, the Arts, and Social Change – wherein local and overseas participants (visual artists, film and cultural studies academics) discussed gender in cinema, an issue that cuts across many interrelated fields.

According to Mirana M. Szeto, an assistant professor at the university and a co-organizer of the symposium, recent legislation has provided women with equal access to education, and, consequently, better career opportunities. That sentiment was seconded by Jason Ho Ka-Hang, a teaching assistant in the Department of Comparative Literature who claimed that female roles are gaining in importance.

As evidence, the members of the conference cited several films produced in the late nineties, in which the image of woman as simpering subordinate was replaced by a sexier, sassier image, a sort of Spice Girl. Examples include superstars like Sammi Cheng, Miriam Yeung, the Twins and Zhang Ziyi, who are said to symbolize the cosmopolitan, independent-minded, modern woman.

While it’s true that female roles have expanded in recent years, it is equally true that there’s still a long way to go before they are on a par with their male counterparts. Even Ho admitted that “roles like office ladies or silly teenage girls have little to do with issues of gender equality.”

Especially where it counts. Take SAR box-office queen Sammi Cheng, for example. Despite her box-office hits – Needing You and Love on a Diet – figures show she is far less bankable than Andy Lau. “I think this relates to the male-centric underpinning of the film industry,” said assistant professor Yau Ka-Fai. Szeto agreed: “The model for comparison is men.”

Nevertheless, some directors have recently adopted new models. Law Wing-cheung’s 2 Become 1, starring Miriam Yeung, tackles breast cancer, though the director’s approach is questionable. 2 Become 1 is a comedy, but to be fair, it doesn’t shy away from the issue. Indeed, the plot is one long health education lecture complete with instructions on self exams. Clearly, it is no easy task to make a film about breast cancer in a cinema culture traditionally dominated by males. While Yeung ostensibly plays the film’s central character, she receives strong support from Taiwanese star Richie Jen, who speaks to male and female audiences alike. Jen, a playboy cursed with erectile dysfunction (in the film), is the film’s role model, the caring lover. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that he’s handsome and rich to boot.

Which is to say that directors who dare broach women’s issues still have many obstacles to surmount. Perpetual Motion is a case in point. A low-budget film by feminist filmmaker Ning Ying, it portrays a group of middle-aged women, and does so without cosmetic pretense. Critics, mostly male, lambasted the film for its lack of glamour. As Szeto said: “The re-introduction of capitalism [to Chinese society] has encouraged the swift reappearance of sexism.”

Ironically, Ning and the distributors chose to promote her film by focusing not on its social merits, but as a vehicle for actress Hong Huang, and as a vehicle of revenge on her ex-husband Chen Kaige. The strategy backfired, provoking the wrath of Hong, and worse, it undermined the movie’s significance.

Meant to be a milestone, Perpetual Motion turned out to be more of a speed bump. While the Hong Kong symposium, in spite of much optimism, proved there’s a long road ahead.

(c) that's Shanghai Magazine
Chief editor: Steven Crane
May 2006 issue

One day, not so very long ago, Hong Kong scriptwriter/director Edmond Pang Ho-cheung and actor Chapman To Man-chat were discussing bachelorhood. And they came to this conclusion: the life of a single man appears to be gay (in the old sense of the word) and carefree. But what if this playboy of the eastern world had fathered a child in the course of his philandering? And what if he were unaware of this fact?

“That’s the million-dollar question for any man who has reached 30,” says Pang. And the premise of his new film, Isabella, starring To as the unknowing father.

Pang and To share a similar sense of dead-pan humor, and a real love of cinema. In their native Hong Kong they’re infamous for their zany comedy films. Indeed, To has played the clown in countless movies, while Pang has directed, on average, one film a year since 1999. But last year, they combined forces, establishing Not Brothers Ltd. (NBL), a company formed to produce Isabella, as well as other projects. The idea behind NBL is to present audiences with something new – new for this pair at least – movies that offer more than guffaws. In short, Pang and To want to show their sensitive, dramatic side. Says Pang, “We’re very versatile, actually.”

As such, Isabella focuses on the serious side of the bachelor’s life. In the role of Shing, To plays it straight, as straight as possible given his character’s many one-night stands. However, one night, between engagements, so to speak, he meets Yan (the elfin Isabella Leung Lok-Si of the film’s title), who claims she’s his daughter.

Isabella, the film, is set on the eve of Macao’s return to the Chinese mainland (1999). It makes good use of the peninsula’s picturesque locations, and boasts a script that delivers equal parts drama, humor and nostalgia with nary a seam showing. The soundtrack, too, is a winner, literally; Isabella won the Best Music Award at the 2006 Berlin Film Festival.

Indeed, critics, both local and international, have been generous in their praise. As a result, the careers of both Pang and To have received a boost, with offers reportedly coming in from all quarters. Pang’s busy plotting his next ‘non-comedy’ projects, while To’s contemplating a future with no laughs. “[Since Berlin] no one has offered me any comedy roles,” jokes To. “I might be out of work permanently!”

(c) that's Shanghai Magazine
Chief editor: Steven Crane
May 2006 issue