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

This column is a part of a monthly contribution to the national daily China Youth Daily. It was published on March 28, 2006 and in the China Youth Daily Website. Originally written in English, it was translated into simplified Chinese by Joy Shao Jie.

English version:

Being romantic is a very blur concept, related to love and sexual desire. We usually believed some people are more romantic than others, like French or Italian. What about China? Are Chinese people romantic?

A question of perspective
One day, I saw a wedding ceremony in the garden of a posh Shanghai hotel. The Chinese bride wore a magnificent virginal western gown and was holding the arm of the Chinese groom in tuxedo. In the background, we could hear a French song called "Helene, Je m'appelle Helene" by Helene Rolles. It surely is a hit in China, as we keep hearing it anywhere. Many Chinese probably think it sounds romantic and perfect for the wedding. For any francophone, however, it hardly sounds romantic but probably cheesy, schmaltzy, sad and hopeless. Basically the song talks about a lonely girl longing for love and desperate to be taken for whom she is. The point is being romantic is a question of individual viewpoint as well as of cultural perspective. What is romantic for Chinese won't necessarily be romantic for French or British. Everybody in China sees Paris as the world capital of romanticism for instance. But what's really romantic about Paris? Ask a Parisian and he won't be able to answer.

Gesture of love
Everybody cherishes different ideas of romanticism, love and desirability. In the streets of China, love and romanticism are hardly perceptible. Men and women holding hands in public can be considered as bold in a society known for being prude. Chinese couples would hold hands as an indication of commitment whereas in the West, it's simply a sign of deep affection but not necessarily a pledge for long-lasting love.

In some places very much influenced by the West (in some chic districts of Shanghai for instance), you might as well spot two Chinese lovers intensively kissing and hugging. This sight is casual for foreigners, as love and affection are more openly expressed in western countries where girls are emancipated at an early age, men bolder to seduce them, and the sexual revolution took place decades ago. As a foreigner, I can see that the Chinese society has evolved rapidly; in two decades traditional morals have been diluted into global morals. Some women on street have adopted the western fashion; they wear tighter cloths and sometimes short skirts to appear more seductive. In another hand, men are bolder to show their feelings in public. Younger generations are more prone to follow the social behaviors of the Western world.

In subway stations and city centers I was half surprised to see so many advertisement posters for foreign designer underwear with models in sensual poses exposing a great deal of flesh. The ads aim at local customers already open to an occidental vision of love and sex. A bra isn't only an undergarment, but a seduction tool. But these models are all Westerners; you cannot expect too much too quickly. Chinese cannot see yet their peers showing some extra bits of skin in public. People unconsciously tend to stick to an image of a pure Chinese girl who perhaps should be asexualized, or at least never be the object of sexual desire.

But what you see is probably the tip of the iceberg. A female Hong-Kong filmmaker who's lived in New York once told me that American women are proud to be considered as sexy sometimes free-spirited or libertine. But when it comes to act they¡¯re in fact very much prudish. On the contrary, Chinese women are discreet and hide their sex appeal, but can become wild romantic partners. The TV-series "I Am Really Desperate for Love," a Chinese equivalent of "Sex and the City" directed by Liu Xin Gang offers a fair example of what modern Chinese women are capable of.

Gesture from the heart
More and more Chinese tend to adopt the Western conception of romanticism. Valentine's Day has been fashionable in Shanghai lately. It's a European Christian holiday to exchange tokens of affection. But do you only think of your partner on February 14th (or for qi xi)? Is it really romantic? As a Frenchman I think it's not so original to do as many other people do, like buying flowers and chocolate on Valentine's Day. You can celebrate your love any other day of the year. If one hasn't taken care of his lover the remaining 364 days of the year, chocolate and flowers are more indications of guilt than tokens of love.

Love should fuel the imagination: Partners ought to be creative to find a genuine gesture from the bottom of the heart. Being romantic is also being original. It's to offer something unique to be cherished by the other. Romanticism is an unselfish expression of the heart to prove your feelings to the other. This is also what Love is all about.

China Youth Daily

(c) China Youth Daily/Thomas Podvin
March 28, 2006

Recently, Chinese action movies have been breaking into overseas markets, opening doors with a powerful kick one might say. But far from being looked down upon as “niche films” or direct-to-video products, these Kung Fu flicks (Hero, Kung-Fu Hustle, Fearless) are vying for the top prize at all the prestigious film festivals, and winning lucrative international distribution deals.

True, way back in the early 1970s Bruce Lee had popularized sword scraping action and swift kicks to the groin, but in those days the films were not taken seriously; indeed, it has taken decades for this kind of cinematic language to enter the mainstream. But the chop-socky action picture has come of age with big budgets, Hollywood-style special effects and savvy marketing.
Take, for example, Dragon Tiger Gate (DTG), a co-production of three great Chinese studios – Hong-Kong Mandarin Films, Beijing Polybona Film and Shanghai Film Group. The film is an adaptation of the 1970s Hong Kong comic book of the same name written by Tony Wong Yuk-long. It features three upright brothers – played by Donnie Yen (S.P.L), Nicholas Tse (The Promise) and Shawn Yue (Initial D) – who fight organized crime and bring justice to Asia.
“This comic book talks a lot about righteousness … the main theme we’d like to bring to the audience,” says Hong Kong filmmaker Wilson Yip Wai-sun (S.P.L., 2005). The elements are hardly original – violence meets morality in a simplistic plot – but movie moguls have seldom gone broke by underestimating the audience’s intelligence.
Producer Raymond Wong, bills DTG as ”a big cinematic event in 2006”, and hopes the film will outperform an earlier, and rather similar, work, Seven Swords (which Wong produced in 2005). To be released this summer, DTG, like Seven Swords, has a big budget (RMB 80 million) and is chock-a-block with fighting scenes and special effects.

Indeed, the film might very well be just the sort of project Bruce Lee would trade his black belt for were he alive. It certainly carries on his tradition, including his weapon of choice, nunchakus, which is a handy instrument with which to beat righteousness into one’s opponent. Yes, this film is ultra-violent, but Yip claims the violence is not gratuitous. “As long as the motive behind [it] is to uphold righteousness, the action scenes in the film won’t be considered as violence,” he claims.
Perhaps. But when the nunchakus are flying who really cares?

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