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

This 12-track CD, recorded in January 1981 in Alberta, Canada, recaps highlights in the long musical career of Ray Charles Robinson (1930-2004). Charles pioneered soul music in the 1960s with his secular brand of gospel music mixed with blues, country and jazz. The result was something all his own, and Charles was immensely popular with both black and white audiences. Indeed, he’s influenced artists as diverse as Stevie Wonder, Joe Cocker and the Beatles. ‘The Genius’, as Frank Sinatra called him, was not only innovative, but prolific as well. Charles had more than thirty hits under his belt, including three number ones: “Hit the Road Jack”, “I Can’t Stop Loving You” and “Georgia”, the latter, a version of Hoagy Carmichael’s “Georgia on My Mind” was named the Georgia state song in the late 1970s. Such was his genius, he even had a hit with the patriotic “America the Beautiful” in the 1960s. A number of Charles’ best songs have featured in TV commercials, jingles and movie scores throughout the 1980s and 1990s. Recently, the unforgettable “I Can’t Stop Loving You” featured in the soundtrack of the 2001 Japanese animated-film Metropolis. This release includes all the above-mentioned songs and more, plus a bonus DVD, recorded at a time when he was at his peak.
EMI

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

Chen Kaige (Farewell My Concubine) is no longer a fifth-generation director; he’s become a maker of the blockbuster. Nothing wrong with that; The Promise (Wu Ji) is an exhilarating romp, with great care exercised in all departments. Photography, sets and costume design provide eye candy, while the SFX and action scenes will delight the most demanding audiences. Wu Ji’s a Chinese fantasy tale about a love triangle involving a slave, a general and a concubine, which gives moviegoers plenty to chew on for 128 minutes – about what you’d expect from the most expensive movie ever made in China (USD 42 million). The film reportedly broke the China opening weekend box office record pulling in USD 9 million (total earnings in China are expected to reach USD 25 million), which is good news for the marketing team. Premiere tickets were sold at an exorbitant (RMB 2,000), while ordinary tickets were 30 per cent dearer than usual – which is probably not the best way to fight piracy. Evidently designed for foreign audiences or the Chinese newly rich, The Promise doesn’t seem to fit the definition of cinema as “entertainment for the masses”.
China Film Group

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

Guanzhou Chief editor: Christopher Cottrell
February 2006 issue

A Chinese Tall Story contains all the necessary ingredients required for an amusing festive-season movie. The RMB100 million production provides some of the most eye-popping scenes ever seen in a Chinese film. But there’s also lighthearted comedy, eccentric characters, and a touching romance. The plot is thus: 500 years ago, a monk is looking for his three disciples; along the way he falls for a lizard imp and battles evil in the form of UFOs, a bizarre Buddha and assorted monsters. Ten years ago Hong Kong filmmaker Jeff Lau explored the legend of the Monkey King with two successful, hilarious movies starring the SAR’s number-one comedian Stephen Chow (Kung-Fu Hustle). Lau’s proven to be capable of delivering witty situations with a sense of anything goes. Yet this episode is less convincing for lack of a really talented comedy artist (Chow does not appear). Indeed, what’s most interesting is the eagerness of the various production companies to show off their prowess within the Chinese film industry. No question the movie is ambitious: it’s an over-the-top show piece, with an excessive number of visual effects, and nearly every actor signed by the Emperor Motion Group (a branch of Emperor Motion Pictures) makes an appearance.
Emperor Motion Pictures/H. Brothers

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

Guanzhou Chief editor: Christopher Cottrell
February 2006 issue

In his introduction to The Flower Drum Song, Tony Award-winning playwright David Henry Hwang states that Asian-American literature has long been marginalized in mainstream society. Perhaps, but this novel, originally published in 1957, might be considered a groundbreaking work of popular Asian-American literature; one that is a page-turner even today. This bittersweet tale follows an array of eccentric Chinese characters in San Francisco’s Chinatown. Wang Ta, for example, opts to study medicine rather than join the ranks of the employed, and ends up entangled with a number of equally unconventional young women. His younger brother, Wang San, longs to become a ‘normal’ American teenager; he plays basketball and makes sandwiches using Chinese food, all to the consternation of his old-fashioned, rather stubborn father, Master Wang, who misses China and tries to maintain his Confucian principles in the US. Charming, sexy, poignant, cynical, The Flower Drum Song is an astute depiction of the cultural gap between generations and between Chinese and Western society. An instant bestseller, the book was made into a successful musical and feature film in the 1960s.
Penguin Books

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Chief editor: Steven Crane
February 2006 issue

Guanzhou Chief editor: Christopher Cottrell
February 2006 issue

With this compelling book, blending autobiographical elements with elements of fiction, Shanghai-born US-based university teacher and writer Yuang-Tsung Chen delves deep into the lives of China’s peasants in the 1950s. And in the process, he exposes the myth that life in the countryside is, in contrast to its urban counterpart, honest, straightforward and happy. The novel begins in the city, circa 1949, at a bourgeois home located in Shanghai’s French concession. Ling Ling, raised by a wealthy uncle, is tired of the good life and joins a group of cadres who wish to take part in the agrarian revolution. Together they bring the concept of “land reform” and hope to Longxiang (Dragon’s Village), a tiny village in the Northwest province of Gansu. However, they soon discover that village life is less than idyllic; indeed, it revolves around outmoded traditions, superstition and secrecy. Full of drama and suspense, The Dragon’s Village offers an intriguing look at the life of peasantry as it undergoes one of the greatest societal changes in its history.
Penguin Books

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

Guanzhou Chief editor: Christopher Cottrell
February 2006 issue

http://www.liquorsnob.com

Here’s a website from a couple of mates who take their booze seriously. Viewers need not be heavy drinkers to appreciate the site’s many refreshing and palate-pleasing liquid concoctions, especially if mixology is crucial to the success of the next party. Established in September 2004, Liquor Snob offers “news and tips on all things alcoholic”; drink recipes, breathalyzers, drinking games, gear and hardware, even booze book reviews. Each new brand of alcohol is thoroughly drunk, digested, analyzed, reviewed and mixed with other ingredients to come up with the perfect cocktail combination. Be warned though that “One man’s favorite drink is another man’s toilet water.” Other advice includes how to use an octopus beer tap or how to beat a hangover by eating cabbage. Finally, a rule of thumb: “A drink should never have more than three ingredients, including ice.” Enjoy, and drink responsibly.

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

A pastiche of personal memories mixed with snapshots of China’s modern history, Zhang Yang’s Sunflower is in one sense a semi-autobiograhical account of his conflict with his father. At the same time, the story’s thirty-year time span, including the “cultural revolution”, serves as a document of social changes.

Zhang was born at roughly the same time (1967) as the film’s main character, Xiangyang, and shared his sense of rebellion. In the film, Xiangyang’s father, a former painter, hopes to recapture his lost glory through the talents of his son. Yet Xiangyang is reluctant to pick up a brush; so reluctant that he explodes a firecracker in his hands to disable himself. “[In some ways] that part [of the film] was full of my own memories,” says Zhang. “It is just like my childhood; I was not well-behaved and was often beaten by my father.”

Zhang’s father, Zhang Huaxun, was a filmmaker who in the 1970s made some of the first Kung Fu movies on the Chinese mainland. But unlike his screen alter ego, Zhang’s act of rebellion was to pursue his father’s profession. His parents wished him to become a doctor, but he chose his father’s métier. In 1992, Zhang completed his studies at the Beijing Central Drama Academy and later joined the Beijing Film Studio as a film director. Says Zhang, “When I got older I became more sensible, but I’ve always remained quite rebellious, relatively independent-minded.”

This spirit has served him well in his career. Zhang’s directorial debut was an independent production called Spicy Love Soup (1997) that became a domestic box office hit and a success with critics overseas. Sunflower has also received its fair share of accolades after appearances at several international film festivals.
So in the end, much like Xiangyang, Zhang eventually won the respect of his father and the two were reconciled. Says Zhang Yang: “My relationship with my father was difficult, and for me this film was a way of resolving that.”

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

Until recently, the risks and profits associated with producing big-screen animated films based on comic books have been left to the Americans (Sin City and Heavy Metal) and the Japanese (Ghost in the Shell, Akira).

Enter the Dragon. Last July, two Chinese companies formed a joint venture to produce The Clash of the Storm Riders, a big budget animated feature inspired by Hong Kong-based Ma Wing Sing’s comic book Storm Riders. Hong Kong-based Asia Animation will produce the film (which will hit theaters in the first quarter of 2007) and the Shanghai Media Group (SMG) will handle authorization procedures, marketing and distribution in China. With a budget of RMB 40 million and more than 200 animators from Shenzhen and Hong Kong, this will be China’s first real challenge to the dominance of the US and Japan productions. To paraphrase Asia Animation’s producer Tommy Tse, this film will provide a chance to do good business.

Indeed, the name Ma Wing Sing, or Ma Wing Shing, all but assures big returns at the box office. Ma is considered one of China’s most influential comic book artists and has almost single-handedly transformed the Chinese comic book industry. His groundbreaking works – Chinese Hero and Wind and Cloud – feature longhaired, muscular heroes, the sort that young males and females alike can admire. And Storm Riders has already been adapted into a successful TV-series and a live-action movie. “This bestseller represents an important part of the local culture,” comments the film’s award-winning director, Dante Lam Chiu-yin.

That said, the very popularity of the work has put a lot of pressure on the film’s creative team. Lam (Heat Team, 2004) says one of the biggest challenges is to preserve the comic book’s Chinese flavor. “We have to … stimulate and develop our local style and not follow the Hollywood and Japanese models.”

And then there’s the technical problem. This project is Lam’s first venture into animation – all his previous work has been on live-action films. With no actors to direct, Lam says the emphasis must be on character development. “I am going back to basics,” he says. “I will focus my attention on scriptwriting.” Lam hopes to translate his ideas using a variety of techniques from hand drawing to the latest animation technology. He’s even promised one “secret” animation technique, which the studio is guarding closely.

Though it may seem like a disadvantage, the idea of having a live-action film director was part of the plan. The producers hope to combine a live-action sensibility with a variety of animation techniques – in a sense creating a “new kind of animated film”. Clearly, in an animated film, the visuals are important. As such, Lam has hired a stunt director to bring a sense of realism to the martial arts action scenes.

But the real trick is to combine creativity, technology and commercial appeal. “It is not easy to be creative as well as to always please picky audiences,” says Chen Bin, a SMG producer. But as Ghost in the Shell proved, it can be done.

This article also features in the film-production company Asia Animation Ltd. website: http://www.asiaanimation.net/company/index9.asp

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

Here is a feedback from a that's Shanghai reader (Lise Ong from Shanghai) published in the February 2006 issue of that's Shanghai.
She appreciated the feature piece on Jeff Lau's A Chinese Tall Story (January 2006 issue).

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

As an expatriate in Shanghai, China, I was quoted in George Zhibin Gu's article in Asia Times Online.
China's lure for young professionals by George Zhibin Gu.
Here is the piece below.

Copyright (c) 2006 George Zhibin Gu/Asia Times Online

Hong Kong-based director Stanley Kwan has seen the relationship between the Shanghai and Hong Kong film communities pass through three distinct phases: from indifferent to competitive and, of late, collaborative. "Throughout the last fifteen years, I experienced firsthand how Shanghai has changed," he says, adding that his interest in Shanghai, whatever the state of affairs, has never waned.

In one sense, Kwan's movies trace the industry's history and its relations. He was one of the first directors to shoot in the Chinese mainland with Center Stage (1991), a biopic of Shanghainese screen legend Ruan Lingyu. Says Kwan: "It was a real Hong-Kong movie shot in the Chinese mainland... though all the money came from Hong Kong." Nonetheless, the experience broke the ice, so to speak, and was a starting point for future cooperation.
After the 1997 handover, the Hong Kong film industry began to integrate itself into the Chinese mainland film industry, though the process was not always smooth. "Each side brings something," says Kwan. "The Chinese mainland provides the studios and beautiful locations; Hong-Kong supplies pop stars and money."
That said, Kwan has no problem holding up his end of the bargain. In his latest film, Everlasting Regret, based on a novel by Shanghainese author Wang Anyi, he cast two of Hong Kong's most bankable stars, Tony Leung Kar-fai and Sammi Cheng; Jackie Chan took the role of producer. Indeed, Kwan says that Shanghai Film Studios counted on him to attract big stars from Hong Kong and get some financial partners.

But the business continues to change and partners increasingly share in the investment and the risks. For Kwan's next project, a biographical film on the life of opera legend Mei Langfang, Chinese mainland investors, together with their counterparts from Hong Kong and the US, will contribute to the estimated RMB 80 million budget. This time Kwan will cast an even more bankable Tony: Leung Chiu-wai the star of In the Mood for Love.

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

Meet The Lanterns, the new kids on the block in Shanghai. Given the difficulty of making a break-through in the local alternative music scene – read rock scene – it's just as well that the members of the band aren't driven by the twin illusions of fame and fortune. "We don't think of the money," explains lead singer Martin Wong. "We didn't sign with a label because no one wants us – Chinese people want Dao Lang!" True, rock acts don't make a buck in China, let alone in Shanghai. Rampant piracy and free music downloads have crippled the local industry and made producers lose confidence in taking a punt on unknowns. "The whole industry is bulls__t," protests Wong. "There are no managers because they know it's not going to make money."
Wong has a point. The band was able to release only 500 copies of their debut album To the Light House in the alternative market. Their follow-up Turning All the Clouds due out this year, is a remix of the first album and includes a new single. Only 5,000 to 10,000 official copies will be distributed in the Chinese mainland and Taiwan. All this despite the fact that The Lantern's music has a highly engaging, commercial sound. Influenced by British bands like The Verve, they deliver a kind of Chinese Brit Pop with melodies they use to great effect to convey a conservative message. "We write Chinese lyrics to bring traditional literature and Chinese feelings to the fore," says Wong. "We try to give confidence to young people in Chinese traditions." The band's Chinese name sounds like "Lan Ting" (Orchid Pavilion), a masterpiece poem anthology with calligraphy by Wang Xizhi from the Dong Jin Dynasty. "Sometimes you can read music from calligraphy; actually you can find rhythm in a lot of things," says Wong. When not performing, the members of the band eke out a living through an assortment of odd jobs and music tuition. With any luck they'll release their sophomore album next summer with an entirely new repertoire of original material.
According to Wong, their lyrics have to deal with love and have an easy-to-remember chorus which everyone can sing along to. The 'drama inside' comes from the band member's life experiences, which in some cases play out like distorted guitar riffs. Take bass player Jack Dye for instance. Dye came to Shanghai to escape the memory of seeing one of his best friends crushed beneath an airplane. Wong says he got his vocal skills from his mother who used to argue vociferously with his father. "As a young kid I was a real dreamer, and I thought I could do the same as the bands on the tapes I used to listen to," says Wong. Their collective past might explain why the band's music is full of soul. The five members of the band – all of them in their mid-twenties – say that it's music alone which brings them faith in everyday life. They don't seem at all perturbed by the fact that making any headway in the local music scene is an uphill battle. For them it's all for the music. But producing good music is no magician's trick and you have to find a good melody. And that's what The Lanterns is all about.
Catch one of The Lanterns' gigs in Harleyís bar in Xujiahui or The Ark in Xintiandi

(c) that's Shanghai Magazine
Chief editor: Steven Crane
January 2006 issue
Photo courtesy Hugo Hu www.huphoto.cdd.cn

Dragon Squad is the latest attempt to revive Hong Kong's golden age of action movies. Directed by Daniel Lee (Star Runner), this multi-layered film also typifies the current approach to filmmaking in the SAR, aimed at overcoming the industry's decade-long financial crisis. It works thus: assemble an international team and piece together a movie with the widest appeal possible. Dragon Squad was co-produced by America's favorite mullet-coifed limb-breaker Steven Segal, and features a cast of recognizable stars, including the lead, Heo Jun-ho (Silmido), and Michael Biehn (Terminator). Unfortunately, some of the less experienced cast members reveal a startling lack of acting skill. The plot follows a team of Interpol agents who enter into a game of cat and mouse with a gang of mercenaries. It's formulaic and viewers won't find any surprises. However, the main problem is the abundance of main characters (a dozen) and the uneasy shifts between butt-kicking and dramatic sequences. That said, the action is terrific, and these scenes benefit from expert editing and, more importantly, the spirit of traditional Chinese swordplay. In spite of its many flaws, then, Dragon Squad delivers on one level, that is if you appreciate a well-placed, swift kick to the groin.
Shankara/Visualizer Film Productions

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

Looking back - but not necessarily in anger - is currently the theme of choice in the art-house film scene. Take Wang Xiaoshuai's Shanghai Dreams or Peng Xiaolian's Shanghai Story for instance. Both films concern the impact of the past on the present – especially that most troubled of decades from the mid-1960s to mid-1970s. In Sunflower, Beijing-based director Zhang Yang looks back (for 130 minutes) at a family in his home town. The story centers on Xiangyang, whose father, a painter, is sent to the countryside in 1969. When he returns seven years later, Xiangyang doesn't recognize him, or his parental authority. Yet slowly the father regains his influence and eventually leads his son to a successful painting career in the late 1990s. Zhang injects a personal note in the father-and-son conflict; his own father, Zhang Huaxun, was a successful filmmaker from the 1970s. As a result, this is personal filmmaking at its best, providing thoughtful analysis and psychological insight.This RMB 12 million film is one with which audiences can identify; the father-son relationship parallels the transformation of society as a whole, as evidenced in the radical shift from the traditional siheyuan to modern multi-story buildings. Still, the underlying sense of nostalgia is balanced by hope for the future.
Fortissimo Films/Ming Productions

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Chief editor: Steven Crane
January 2006 issue

Your boss cracks obscene jokes, constantly interrupts your work and still boasts of his great team leadership skills. He's cocky, ineffective, a foul-mouthed pseudo-philosopher devoid of any real qualities. Nevertheless, he inspires pity. Sound familiar? Well, then imagine him on TV. David Brent (Ricky Gervais) is the boss in the multi- award-winning TV-series The Office. Filmed in faux-BBC documentary-style using hand-held cameras, this series has a disturbing sense of realism which may explain its widespread popularity. Some scenes documenting the boss' boorish behavior will feel so familiar that the hair on the back of your neck will stand up. Add office flirtations and what you have here is a sense of déjà-vu all over again. But for one thing: the colorful British dialogue and Cockney slang might not be instantly recognizable, but somehow it translates well. You may be disgusted by the humor, but you'll laugh your arse off anyway. In any case, Gervais, a former radio DJ turned comedian/actor/writer/director has inspired an imitator: in the US, NBC produced an adequate (and successful) version of the series all on their own, without any bossing around from the man himself.
BBC

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Chief editor: Steven Crane
January 2006 issue