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

A l’époque des Royaumes Combattants (Chine, 3ème siècle avant JC), le petit état de Liang, peuplé de paysans, est confronté à une invasion imminente. Leur chance de survie étant quasi nulle, ils engagent Ge Li (Andy Lau), un membre du clan Mozi (ou Mo-Tseu) réputé pour ses stratégies militaires défensives. Débarquant mal fagoté mal peigné, l’envoyé ne parvient déjà pas à sauver les apparences et les Liang doute de ses capacités à les mener à la victoire. Ils remportent cependant la première bataille. Mais le reste de la guerre s’annonce éprouvant.

Adaptation d’un manga extrêmement populaire en Asie, (”Mak Gong” ou ”Bokko” de Hideki Mori, Kenichi Sakemi et Sentaro Kobuta paru chez Tonkam en France sous le nom ”Stratège”), A Battle Of Wits est une grosses machine de guerre à tout les niveaux. Le film, sorti en novembre 2006 en Asie et dont le titre peut se traduire par ”jeux d’esprit”, est un modèle de coopération pour l’industrie du film pan asiatique. Mais trouvera-t-il preneur en occident ?

Un gros poisson

Réalisé par Jacob Cheung (Cageman, 1992), le film a demandé cinq ans de préparation. Avec un budget impressionnant pour un film chinois (12,8 millions d’euros), A Battle of Wits est un pur défi logistique et créatif. Certaines scènes tournées en Mongolie Intérieure ont nécessité 1000 figurants, 400 techniciens, quatre caméras simultanées et des douzaines de chevaux. C’est aussi une première pour Jacob Cheung, plus habitué aux films contemporains et aux budgets largement plus modestes. Avant de passer à la réalisation Cheung partageait déjà à 18 ans les bancs des cours d’art dramatique de la TVB avec Andy Lau et Tony Leung Chiu-wai (excusez du peu). N’ayant jamais percé en tant qu’acteur et il réalise son premier film en 1984 (Lai Shi, China’s Last Eunuch), avant de réaliser, produire et écrire dans les grands studios de Hong Kong (Cinema City, Golden Harvest, UFO, etc.). Il s’est principalement illustré dans les comédies, les mélodrames et les films sociaux. Ici, Cheung aborde donc ce projet monstrueux en refusant tout compromis comme pour un de ses films intimistes. Il saisit l’occasion de porter à l’écran sa vision sur l’état du monde actuel. Avouez qu’un wu xia pian (film de chevalerie chinoise, un genre généralement issue de la littérature et caractérisé par un univers fantaisiste et clos) qui s’ouvre à la société contemporaine est plutôt rare.

Bon espoir

Avec un casting énorme, une équipe technique et des producteurs de Chine populaire (Huayi Brothers), Hong Kong (Sundream Motion Pictures), Corée (Boram Entertaiment) et du Japon (Comstock), ce wu xia pian réuni a lui seul une bonne partie de l’Asie. Le film n’était pas encore sorti que les professionnels impliqués se félicitaient déjà du travail accompli. Un des producteurs, Tsui Siu Ming le grand patron de la Sundream Motion Pictures, s’explique : « avec un bon scénario, une production bien planifiée, des décors superbes, des producteurs et techniciens expérimentés et des investisseurs compétents, nous avons confiance en ce film et son énorme potentiel ». Tsui et les investisseurs espèrent aussi que ce format de coproductions pourra garantir un recouvrement des coûts et permettre au marché de s’ouvrir d’avantage. Un autre investisseur, le japonais Satoru Iseki, ancien producteur de Ran et L'Empereur et l'assassin maintenant à la tête de Tara Contents Inc, partage cet enthousiasme : « j’espère vraiment qu’A Battle of Wits puisse asseoir la supériorité des films asiatiques en Asie ». Tsui Siu Ming se réjouit aussi car « sans A Battle of Wits, Warner Brothers n’aurait pas investit dans un tout nouveau projet, Howling Arrow de Sammo Hung », son petit dernier et aussi une grosse production pan asiatique.

Passage à l’Ouest

Avec les stars Andy Lau, Fang Bingbing, Choi Si-Won et Ahn Sung-Ki le succès du film est quasi assuré à travers l’Asie. Mais, peut-il marcher en Europe et en Amérique du Nord ? Jacob Cheung est, sur ce point, soit très pessimiste soit trop modeste : « ce film se passe dans l’ancienne Chine avec des acteurs chinois, je ne m’attends pas à un gros succès à l’Ouest. » En général les wu xia pians destinés à l’export comme Hero, Tigre et dragon ou Wu ji fonctionnent grâce à un exotisme affiché. Satoru explique que « les films d’arts martiaux qui marchent en Occident ont des couleurs chatoyantes et offrent une perspective exotique aux spectateurs occidentaux», ajoutant que « les films de Zhang Yimou en sont la parfaite représentation ». Heureusement, A Battle of Wits évite soigneusement ces écueils visuels et propose une adaptation réaliste et viscérale d’une histoire chinoise appréciée à travers toute l’Asie. Le tout est saupoudré d’une vision pessimiste sur l’héroïsme et la guerre.
Croisons les doigts pour que ce mélange convienne à tous les publics.

Interview Jacob Cheung -- La guerre des méninges

Dernier gros wu xia pian en date, A Battle of Wits, est une aventure qui rassemble une bonne partie de l’Asie. Non seulement le film est un blockbuster bourré de stars orientales, mais il pose aussi des questions très contemporaines. Jacob Cheung, le réalisateur hongkongais, s’explique.

Quelles étaient vos intentions lorsque vous avez acheté les droits pour l’adaptation cinématographique du manga « Bokko » ?

En 1990, Eric Tsang [Infernal Affairs] m’a recommandé ce manga que j’ai tout de suite dévoré, car il est très émouvant et intéressant. C’est l’histoire de deux grandes nations, appelées Zhao et Yan, qui s’affrontent. Zhao envoie 100 000 soldats à l’assaut de Yan. Chemin faisant, ils croisent un tout petit pays de quatre milles paysans, Liang, qui peut être très vite vaincu. L’objectif premier de Zhao n’est pas d’envahir Liang, mais c’est un petit territoire si facile à conquérir. Le peuple de Liang se retrouve donc dans une situation inextricable et appelle à l’aide un mohiste [un adepte de la philosophie du sage chinois Mo-Tseu qui vécu au 4ème siècle avant JC] du nom de Ge Li (Andy Lau). C’est ainsi que commence l’histoire. A l’époque j’ai pensé que je pouvais injecter beaucoup d’idées contemporaines à l’adaptation. Comme des idées pacifistes, poser la question de l’héroïsme en temps de conflits armés et aussi comment empêcher la destruction liée à la guerre.

Avec cette réflexion sur la guerre et l’héroïsme, souhaitez-vous véhiculer un message politique ?
C’est l’idée principale du film. Le sujet fait directement référence à la situation actuelle dans le monde, entre les Etats-Unis et l’Iraq par exemple. C'est-à-dire une grande puissance utilise une excuse bidon pour attaquer un faible et petit pays. Dans le film, le peuple du petit état Liang se tourne vers le mohiste, qui n’aura recours qu’à la violence et la guerre. Mais est-il vraiment d’une grande aide ? C’est comme dans notre société moderne, si on résout les problèmes par la force, cela n’entraînera que plus de morts et de destructions. La véritable façon de résoudre un conflit est avec intelligence et des moyens non-violents. Nous devrions tenter l’impossible pour éviter toute guerre. De ce point de vue, je pense que les héros en temps de guerre n’existent pas.

La production réunit beaucoup de pays d’Asie. Parlez nous des difficultés que cela a entraîné.
En fait, il s’agissait plus de véritables défis. J’ai dû faire face aux investisseurs, techniciens et acteurs de quatre pays différents [Chine, Corée, Japon, Hong Kong]. Ce fut un travail fastidieux. Le problème principal fut bien évidemment la communication. Par exemple, notre cameraman japonais, Zensho Sakamoto, travaille suivant un système totalement différent de celui de Hong Kong. Pour lui faire comprendre mes désirs le plus précisément possible, j’ai dû faire des recherches. Pas seulement sur la façon d’opérer des caméramans japonais, mais aussi sur la personnalité de Zensho Sakamoto. Pour un cameraman hongkongais, il suffit de lui donner la position et l’angle de la camera et il fait le reste tout seul sans poser de questions. Pour un cameraman japonais, vous devez tout expliciter, ce qui demande énormément de temps pour chaque plan. Ce fut le même problème avec les acteurs. Même avec les acteurs de Chine continentale c’était un vrai challenge car leur système est totalement différent de celui de Hong Kong.

On raconte qu’après avoir lu le script Andy Lau a accepté le rôle immédiatement.
Andy Lau est dans le milieu du cinéma depuis environ 27 ans et lui et moi avons été camarades de classe sur les bancs de l’école d’acteurs de la TVB [télévision locale]. Il connaît ma façon de travailler. Il a demandé à lire le script avant notre réunion de production et sa première question fut : « Comment je serai coiffé ? » (Rire). Il fait très attention à son look. Je lui ai juste dit que je ne lui ferais pas porter de perruque ou de couvre chef. On ferait juste une coupe raz. Heureux, il a tout de suite dit oui au rôle !

Fang Bing Bing est une actrice très populaire en Chine et elle est en passe de devenir une nouvelle Ziyi Zhang. Comment s’est-elle impliquée ?
En fait, à l’origine il n’y avait pas de rôle féminin fort, car l’histoire était conçue d’abord avec des personnages masculins. Hors, pendant la dynastie dite de Zhan [à l’époque des Royaumes Combattants], les femmes et les hommes étaient égaux. Sur les champs de bataille, ils se battaient côte à côte. Dans le film, Fang Bing Bing joue un rôle fort, celui d’une cavalière. Il y a une scène très dure que nous avons tourné courant novembre 2005 dans la province de Hubei [Centre Est de la Chine] où il faisait très très froid. Fang était prisonnière d’une geôle qui se remplissait d’eau glacée. On ne pouvait ajouter d’eau chaude par crainte d’endommager la caméra avec la vapeur d’eau. Elle a dû rester dans l’eau avec une combinaison étanche. Fang est une belle femme et les medias chinois ont toujours plus porté leur attention sur sa vie privée qu’autre chose. Mais sur le tournage, je peux vous dire qu’elle était très dévouée et qu’elle a toujours fait de son mieux pour atteindre mes objectifs.

A Hong Kong on vous connaît pour votre intransigeance : vous évitez les compromis commerciaux. Qu’en est-il de A Battle of Wits ?
Je ne suis pas vraiment du type à transiger ou alors je n’aurai pas mis dix ans à finir ce film. Faire des compromis n’est pas une bonne solution. Avant de commencer le tournage, j’avais d’abord communiqué mes intentions aux divers investisseurs et donc les compromis ont été fait à ce moment. Par la suite, j’ai fait le film à ma façon. Il n’y a eu que deux compromis. Premièrement, j’ai accepté de livrer un final cut de 2 h. à 2 h. 10. En fait, il y avait tellement de choses à dire dans ce film que la durée initiale était de 3 heures. Deuxièmement, les investisseurs ne voulaient pas trop d’effets spéciaux numériques donc on a essayé de réduire au mieux leur utilisation.

Justement, ces dernières années, les films d’arts martiaux ont adopté les méthodes de production d’Hollywood avec énormément d’effets spéciaux numériques. Quel est votre point de vue sur ce phénomène ?
Dans A Battle of Wits, lorsque mille soldats sont tués par flèche, il faut nécessairement utiliser des effets numériques. Les flèches arrivent de toutes les directions. Sans effets spéciaux, c’est une scène impossible à réaliser. De nos jours, il s’agit d’un élément essentiel qu’un réalisateur doit utiliser, mais il ne doit pas laisser les effets numériques prendre le pas sur l’aspect général du film.
Il y a une utilisation trop évidente d’effets numériques dans Wu ji, la légende des cavaliers du vent ou même le Seigneur des Anneaux, alors que le spectateur ne les perçoit pas malgré leur abondance dans Il faut sauver le soldat Ryan. C’est ce que je veux que les spectateurs ressentent : un goût de réalité. Dans mon film, il y a 400 plans avec des effets numériques. J’ai inséré les effets à plusieurs niveaux. J’ai combiné plusieurs couches ensemble et ne suis pas parti de zéro en créant un univers numérique. C’était un processus très complexe. Par ailleurs, je ne voulais pas montrer des scènes dures comme dans Il faut sauver le soldat Ryan. Au Moyen Age il était très courant qu’un soldat se fasse coupé en deux. Je ne voulais pas montrer ce genre de spectacle aux enfants ou provoquer le dégoût. Je voulais faire comme pour les romans de wu xia avec lesquels les lecteurs se sentent réellement impliqués car ils mélangent leurs expériences personnelles avec le processus de lecture et établissent un lien avec le livre. Pour A Battle of Wits, je veux laisser libre court à l’imagination des spectateurs.

Propos recueillis par Thomas PODVIN.
Remerciements à Cherry XUE et Margaret YAU.

Cette article apparait en anglais dans that's Shanghai et that's PRD

(c) MAD ASIA
Rédacteur en chef: Julien Sévéon
Novembre-decembre 2006

For most Westerners, the name Jacob Cheung Chi-leung probably doesn’t ring a bell. John Woo, Tsui Hark or even Wong Kar-wai may be familiar to cinema-goers, but the accomplishments of this actor-at-heart turned filmmaker are no less praiseworthy.

Indeed, the 47-year-old Hong Kong-born filmmaker has some impressive credits, ranging from 1990’s This Thing Called Love, a delightful comedy about love and marriage, to 1992’s Cageman, a serious study of his native city’s ‘cage-house’ tenants, to 1999’s The Kid, a moving exploration of child/adult relationships. As is evident from even a list as short as this, Cheung emphasizes characterization and strong story telling over action, SFX and other visual excesses. Perhaps because he began his career in front of the camera. More than two decades ago he took acting classes along with such luminaries as Andy Lau and Tony Leung Chiu-wai, followed by years of mediocre roles in mediocre films. Tired of waiting for the perfect part, which, of course, never came, until Lai Shi, China’s Last Eunuch (1986). Since then, he’s tackled nearly every topics as a scriptwriter/producer/director and in almost every genre, from romance to ghost stories.

His latest directorial effort, A Battle of Wits (ABOW), is adapted from a famous Japanese manga Mak Gong/Bokko. It concerns a ‘mohist’, an adept of the Mozi philosophy. Mozi (aka Micius or Mo-Tzu who lived in 5th-4th century BC), argued strongly against Confucianism and founded a school of thought that emphasized universal love, self-reflection and authenticity. In ABOW, the mohist, Ge Li, battles to spare a small country invasion by a powerful kingdom. With a plot like this, ABOW would seem to fit the typical martial art’s or wuxia pian genre, replete with super-powered knight errants. Indeed, it is set in the Zhan dynasty (475 B.C.-221 B.C.), a hero-laden period according to Chinese folklore.

But ABOW is anything but a typical Chinese action film, rather Cheung has produced an ambitious historical work where there is little room for blind heroics. More impressive still, he has cleverly introduced a subtext that echoes events in today’s newspaper headlines. Ge Li’s attempt to bring peace becomes an excuse for war, while his commitment to duty adversely affects the very people he cares for most.

Slated for release on the Chinese mainland this December, the USD 16 million Pan-Asian A Battle of Wits boasts an international cast and crew (the Chinese mainland, Hong Kong, South Korea, Japan and Taiwan) and features many of the big names -- Andy Lau, Fang Bingbing, Nicholas Wu Chi-lung or Ahn Sung-ki.

In our interview with Cheung, he discusses his inspiration, his unwillingness to compromise and the role of world affairs in his current film.

that’s: ABOW is quite complex. How would you summarize the story?
Jacob Cheung: The movie’s about two big powerful countries fighting each other. One country, Zhao, sends 100,000 soldiers to attack another country [called] Yan. On their way, they pass a small country named Liang inhabited by only 4,000 peasants and which can be defeated very easily. The main objective of Zhao isn’t to defeat this small and weak country though it’s [a territory] very easy to conquer. The Liang’s people are thus trapped in a helpless situation and they turn to Ge Li, played by Andy Lau, for protection. As long as Ge Li can defend Liang for one month the country will be safe from [further] attacks. That’s how the story starts.

that’s: Is this the film you had in mind when you bought the rights to Hideki Mori’s and Sentaro Kubota’s Japanese comic book Mak Gong six years ago?
JC: Actually, I’ve been working on this film for eleven years. [But] the first time I read the comic book was in 1990 [after a recommendation from Hong Kong actor/filmmaker Eric Tsang] when I was waiting for my three sons to join me in Canada. I quickly became fond of it; it’s very touching and fascinating. [From the beginning], I wanted to add modern elements to the movie adaptation, including an anti-war theme, as well as my thoughts and reflections on heroism, and the destruction that occurs during war time. I believed it had to be a very big production and, at that time, I was just not good enough to make the film. Later, after discussing the project with colleagues, I became more confident and more impatient. This sort of movie requires a lot of stamina, and it took me a decade to prepare myself.

that’s: How would you describe the film’s view of heroism? JC: From the very beginning of the film, Mohist Ge Li appears keen on helping Liang’s people defend themselves against invasion. He seems an obvious hero to them. He convinces them he’s there to help and urges them to resist the invasion. But is he really helpful? Ge Li is not really a hero; he brings the idea of war to the peasants assuming it’s good for them, but in fact it is not. War is never a good means to solve problems. From this perspective, there are never any heroes in wartime. that’s: Can you explain how the film parallels events in today’s world. JC: The film’s subtext is about a big and powerful country using a far-fetched excuse to attack a small and weak country. It parallels the situation between the USA and Iraq. Here, the weak and small country Liang, turns to a Mohist for help, but his help only brings violence and war. If you try and solve problems with violence, the result is death and civil unrest. The real way to solve problems is through non-violent means.

that’s: ABOW involves film companies, cast and crew from five different countries. Was it a challenge working with such a diverse group?
JC: It was more than just a challenge; it was difficult and exhausting. The main issue was [of course] communication. For instance, the cameraman [Zensho Sakamoto] is from Japan, and in Japan they work under a different system. I had to do research not only on how Japanese cameramen work, but also on the personality of Zensho Sakamoto so I could make him understand my exact requirements. If the cameraman is from Hong Kong, you just need to give him the camera position and angle and then he does it without questions. For Japanese cameramen, you need to explain a lot, so it requires much longer to complete every single take.

that’s: Is it true that Andy Lau accepted the role of Ge Li immediately after reading the script?
JC: Lau was very confident in [the project] and knew exactly my style, so he agreed as soon as he read the script. But he did have four [tongue-in-cheek] questions. His first question was ‘How about my hairdo?’ (Laughs). Lau pays a lot of attention to his appearance. I just told him I won’t let him wear wigs or hats, we’ll just use a very short haircut. He was happy and agreed to do [the film]. (Laughs) Then he asked me if he needed to be dubbed in Mandarin, and I told him he’d have to try to say his lines in Putonghua. Lau asked if he could participate on the production side. I asked him ‘why?’ I asked him if he trusted me and if he had another agenda. He said he hadn’t, that he just wanted to be helpful. He said that because the film had such a lot of investors, from four countries, that he was afraid I would give up half way. Such a complicated situations required strong producers, he said, which is why he offered his services. His last question was: How long would it take to shoot [his part]?

that’s: It’s been reported that Fang Bingbing was exceptionally dedicated to her role.
JC: Originally, there wasn’t any female role; the story only concerned men. But during the period the film is set, in the Zhan dynasty, women and men were equal. In war time, for example, they would fight shoulder to shoulder. In ABOW, Fang was very dedicated to her role as a solider and horse groom. There’s one scene where Fang is trapped in an underwater jail; we shot it in mid-November 2005 in Hubei province when it was very cold. We couldn’t add any warm water because the steam would have damaged the camera. So she had to stay in the freezing water, though she was wearing a diving suit. In order to encourage the cast, I also went in the water with a diving suit and it was indeed freezing. But Fang never complained, she did her best to meet my requirements.

that’s: You’re known for refusing to make compromises.
JC: I am not really a director who compromises a lot or else it would not have taken me eleven years to make ABOW. [I believe] to compromise is the wrong way to go. Before starting the movie, I had already communicated my intentions to the various investors, so all compromises were made in the early stage; after that, I did the whole movie my way. In fact, I only made two compromises. First, I agreed to reduce the final cut from three hours to between two and two hours and ten minutes. Second, as the investors weren’t too keen on computer generated special effects, we tried our best to reduce the number. In this movie, there are 400 shots containing CG SFX.

that’s: Do you think the film will be a hit in the West?
JC: I don’t know how to answer your question. Though the topic of this movie -- war -- is universal, each game has its own rules. If you want a movie to be accepted by Western audiences, the rules say it has to be in the English language. ABOW is set in ancient times with Chinese actors; I don’t expect too much from Western audiences. If I wanted the film to work all over the world, I would have had to change the whole crew and cast, and make it in English. The film focuses on Oriental people, so whether it will work or not [In the West] we’ll have to let the viewers decide for themselves.

that’s: Ang Lee’s Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon is a typical Chinese film and a global success.
JC: I wouldn’t compare myself to director Ang Lee.

Special thanks to Margaret Yau and Cherry Xue.

This feature article also appears in French, in France bimonthly magazine Mad Asia

(c) that's Shanghai Magazine
Chief editor: Steven Crane
Photo courtesy Mick Ryan www.mickryan.com.
September 2006 issue

(c) that's PRD Magazine
Chief editor: Phil Boyle
December 2006 issue

I had arranged to interview Shu Haolun, an independent documentary filmmaker and teacher at the Shanghai University Film and Television School, following the June premier of his second directorial effort, Nostalgia, at the Shanghai Film Library in Hongkou District. However, after the screening and a heated Q&A session with the audience, Shu, a graduate of Southern Illinois University, was far too agitated to answer any more questions, especially questions posed in English.

Instead, we arranged to meet the next day, and though the temperature was fiery, Shu appeared composed. Needless to say, appearances are deceiving. In short time, the 34 year-old filmmaker revealed himself as a man of passion, one who relies on his gut instincts. Indeed, Shu is as intense as the summer’s heat, though his energies are filtered through the camera lens. Which is to say he shines a bright light on selective subjects: his family, the city in which he was born, China’s rapid development and its effect on ordinary Chinese people.

While that may seem a rather broad spectrum, it’s not. Shu’s brand of non-fiction filmmaking is highly personal. Nostalgia puts his family center stage, along with his own memories of growing up in a neighborhood of shikumen (stone-gate houses), one that has been slotted for demolition. Though Shu’s documentary is highly subjective (in one scene he recalls a childhood sweetheart), his sense of nostalgia, indeed his memories of Da Zhongli, an area of 7,000 residents in the Jing’an district, is one that has universal appeal, grounded, as it is, in humanist principles.

As mentioned above, Shu is passionate, but he is also compassionate. A trait that is evident in his directorial debut, Struggle (2001), a film that concerns three migrant workers who lost their hands while working in one of Shenzhen’s sweatshops, and their struggle, aided by lawyer Zhou Litai, for a better life, fundamental rights and justice. While in production, Shu became intimate with the workers and their lawyer, and as a result, Struggle is more than just an exposé; it expresses an undeniable sympathy with the suffering (and the struggle for human dignity) of its subjects.

For his next project, Shu will revisit territory covered in an earlier work, How Yukong Moved the Mountain, a 12 episode, 763 minute documentary on the “cultural revolution” by the late Dutch documentary filmmaker Joris Ivens (1898-1989). Entitled A Letter to Ivens – a revisit to Yukong, Shu’s version will once again center on the experiences of his family, childhood and his hometown.

that’s: Why did you chose to study filmmaking in the US?
Shu Haolun: At the time [mid-1990s], the only film school [in China] was the Beijing Film Academy (BFA). It was quite a closed system; you had to be extremely smart and to perform very well in the entrance examination to [gain admission]. Or you needed to have the right connections. I failed the entrance exam [and wasn’t connected]. So it seemed impossible for me to enter the BFA, which had a superior air because of its monopoly, as if it were the kingdom of filmmaking in the Middle Kingdom. So I studied English and went to the USA. I wanted to see other parts of the world, and I think I’ve made the right choice.

that’s: What inspired you to make documentaries?
SH: Back in 1998, I was studying at the Southern Illinois University [SIU]. My university advisor signed me up for the documentary classes. I had already missed the orientation week because I was late due to some visa issues and didn’t know what the classes were about. One of them was about documentary history, from the late 1960s to late 1990s.
In China, we weren’t much exposed to documentaries. The films I was watching in the US were very different, like Chris Marker’s La Jetée (1962) and Alain Resnais’ Night and Fog (1955). Later on, I saw a documentary that blew my mind, Barbara Kopple’s American Dream (1990). It was about a workers’ union at a meat factory. It wasn’t done in the style of 1960s Cinéma Vérité, but it was a very powerful work, maybe one of the most powerful non-fiction films [I’ve seen].

that’s: Why did you return to China?
SH: At SIU, we had to make a film as an assigned project. At the time, I wanted to make a fictional film. But I couldn’t get approval from the teachers’ committee, who wanted a more realist story. That upset me, so I came back to China to make films.

that’s: How did you choose Struggle as your first project?
SH: The story is fascinating; there’s no question about it. I think the human aspect of the film is also very strong. One of the migrant workers, Xiao Hongxing, is from Hubei Province; his family couldn’t support his studies, so he went to a technical school instead of college and got a technical degree. Later, he went to Shenzhen [as a migrant worker], and unfortunately suffered an industrial accident that left him crippled. The story of Xiao and the other workers is shocking.

Although we live in different worlds and have almost nothing in common, besides nationality and language, I felt we were connected. In the beginning, they called me ‘journalist Shu’. I am not a journalist, but they basically thought that anyone with a camera was a journalist. But gradually I won their confidence, and they told me their story. After they knew me better, they called me Xiao Shu, or ‘Little Shu’. And these victims from the newspapers became human beings to me. We developed a personal bond.

that’s: You had European funding for this project.
SH: I applied for, and received, funding from the Netherlands’ Jan Vrijman Fund, and from the Swiss Agency. So I was well funded for my very first project, which surprised my US professors. Back in China I started to work on topics I really liked. And this time, no one said the subject wasn’t realistic enough. Later Struggle was screened at many festivals around the world and won the Best Documentary Award at the Fribourg International Film Festival (Switzerland).

that’s: Let’s talk about Nostalgia and your motives in keeping memories of an old Shanghai neighborhood alive.
SH: In 2002, as I was finishing my studies in the US, I learned that the place where I’d always lived in Shanghai, the neighborhood of Da Zhongli, was sold to a Hong Kong real estate developer who planned to build skyscrapers in place of the existing shikumen.
Da Zhongli is our family home, the place my family has always lived. I was worried that if I didn’t film it then, the opportunity would be lost forever. Another source of inspiration was a series of essays in the Shanghai Literature magazine entitled My City Map, which described the writers’ favorite places in Shanghai, be it their birthplaces or where they grew up. Nostalgia was my own My City Map but in the form of a documentary film. This project was personal; I really wanted to do something for my home and my family.

that’s: You might have named your documentary My Home, rather than Nostalgia.
SH: Not exactly, because I miss my home and the 1980s. I miss that particular place and time, which are mixed together; it’s not possible for me to separate them. I also show [in Nostalgia] my personal experiences when I was a teenager.

that’s: Both Struggle and Nostalgia examine some of the negative effects of rapid modernization. Does that mean you are a conservative?
SH: No, I think everybody likes modernization. Nobody wants to live in a cave like during the Stone Age. However, modernization shouldn’t mean unhealthy development.
A while ago I went to Jakarta, Indonesia, but I wasn’t able to see much. The traffic was so packed that if I wanted to go anywhere it would have taken at least two hours. Yes, there are super highways across the city, but the city is not designed on a human scale. You can also see a lot of foreign cars and banks and international brands – it’s like anywhere else in the US. I am afraid that might happen in Shanghai. Modernization isn’t about how many skyscrapers and highways a city has. It’s about how we can share wealth and how everybody can enjoy it. In other words, if modernization is about money it’s wrong; if it’s about people it’s right.

that’s: What about your next project, A Letter to Ivens?

SH: This documentary, currently in development, is about Joris Ivens, who in the early 1970s was invited by then Prime Minister Zhou [Enlai] to make a film about almost every aspect of the “cultural revolution” [in How Yukong Moved the Mountain (1971-1977)]. It ran to 12 episodes, but I will only revisit three. One of them is about a factory in Shanghai that produces generators, a typical Soviet-style factory where they have everything (a school, hospital, dormitories), and where my father worked for decades until he retired. I’ve a personal connection with this place; I used to go to the swimming pool there when I was young. The second episode’s about a [local] pharmacy, which is more representative of a small working environment, while the third episode is about the Da Qing oil fields.

that’s: Is this project a comment on Ivens’ documentary?
SH: The whole project is about how Ivens portrayed the events of that period. I am not interested in whether his work is true or not; my angle is to shoot discussions with common people who experienced that time. Currently, I’m negotiating the rights for footage from Ivens’ film – my concept is to reunite past and present images.

For more information see Shu Haolun's homepage:
http://spaces.msn.com/haolunshui
This article also features in Shu Haolun's homepage

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

No sane Hollywood producer would intentionally devalue a pop culture icon. Audiences won’t ever witness, say, Superman kicking the crutches out from under a cripple, or Batman caught drunk behind the wheel of the Batmobile. Yet in his directorial debut, Lost in Wu Song (LIWS), the multiple-hyphenated scriptwriter-director-actor-producer Lu Yitong deftly deconstructs one of China’s prominent literary figures Wu Song. Wu Song, of course, isn’t a pop icon, not yet. Rather he’s a popular, traditional Chinese hero from the pages of the 14th-century classic novel The Water Margin. Idolized by Chinese everywhere, Wu Song is considered the quintessence of manhood. Fond of fighting and drink – once, while under the influence [of alcohol], he killed a tiger with his bare hands – Wu Song is, like his Western counterparts, a righteous man, one whose reputation must remain unsullied. Yet in LIWS, Lu portrays this mythic character as a dumb, violent boozer.
Quite obviously, this is not a mainstream film. It has no big stars; it is not backed, financially or otherwise, by a big studio. Nor does it have a plot constructed by formula. It is neither an art-house flick, nor a product of the sixth-generation school of social realism. Rather, this is an independent production, a deadpan, offbeat comedy by first time, Beijing director Lu. Four years in the making, LIWS was financed solely by private investors, mainly Lu, his relatives and friends.
Which is why this wry, thought provoking tale of an idealist, wannabe filmmaker, Men Desong, is so refreshing. Men, still a virgin at 30, has a dream: to make the definitive film about his childhood hero Wu Song, and then retire and become a Buddhist monk. Men’s biggest problem is finding the right actor to play Wu Song, one who is a living embodiment of the legendary brute. Men pursues his quest with a daft, bullheaded tenacity, in spite of pressure from his producers to compromise. What follows is a series of Don Quixote-like misadventures, the outcome of which changes Men for good.
Equally stubborn, Lu, 43, never compromised his independence in the production of LIWS. While this is his film debut, he has worked in, and around, the industry for two decades, in France, the US and India. And his experience, as well as his love for cinema, is evident in the reception this film has received at various international festivals and with critics. To name but one tribute to Lu’s skills as a filmmaker, LIWS won the 2005 International Federation of Film Critics award (FIPRESCI). Nevertheless, Lu, much like other independent filmmakers, has yet to secure a deal for domestic release of his film.
In the meantime, he’s just completed a short film that will be part of an omnibus movie project, wherein seven directors were randomly assigned a color as the theme of their work (Lu received green, representing spring, hope and vigor); the resulting seven films will be screened at the Calcutta Film Festival in November 2006. In addition, the director is planning his next feature-length film, set in Shanghai.
We spoke with Lu about his enthusiasm for cinema, his approach to deconstructing myths, and the state of independent filmmaking in the Chinese mainland.

that’s: LIWS is a film-within-a-film. Is it based on your own experience?
Lu Yitong: LIWS has very little in common with my life or experience. It has much more to do with my inner intellectual world. This film’s a fable; it’s suggestive. It relates to the process of modernization in China, which is based on Western models, and filled with contradictions and absurdities. One of the consequences of the process, in particular China’s economic growth, is that idealism has been destroyed. It has also created extreme uncertainty. I have observed this process – from a distance – and [in the film] I express my thoughts on it also from a distance.

that’s: Tell us about the characters in the film.
LY: Growing up as a boy, Wu Song was for me the perfect super hero. But now I see him as a symbol of the contradiction between traditional and modern values. Pan Jinlian is Wu Song’s sister-in-law. In the legend, she poisons her husband, Wu Song’s brother, because she wants to be with her lover, Xi Menqing. Wu Song avenges his brother and kills the couple. In LIWS, Pan Jinlian symbolizes a reality [that the dreamer and would-be filmmaker] Men Desong must confront. If Pan were living today, excepting the fact that she kills her husband, she would be a very modern and independent woman.

that’s: One of the film’s themes is the conflict between fantasy and reality.
LY: [Of course] there’s no such thing as a living Wu Song; he’s the product of my character’s [Men’s] imagination – Wu Song is a symbol. All the characters around Desong are symbolic of reality. Mei Li [the modern Pan Jinlian] doesn’t just represent love; she represents reality through sex. I wanted to tell the story of an idealist, Men Desong, who confronts an all-powerful reality. He’s like Don Quixote trying to fight his enemies which turn out to be windmills. Like him, Desong is bound to fail. He’s ridiculous; yet at the same time, he inspires respect. In the film, it’s not clear whether, in the end, he accepts reality or not. He may very well continue to struggle against his windmills. My main interest is to show the failure of my characters.

that’s: In the movie-within-the-movie, the cast is constantly rehearsing but they never actually begin shooting.
LY: The [interior] film only exists in Desong’s imagination. LIWS’s plot traces the progression of a quest, a quest for Wu Song, i.e., a quest for an ideal. As such, the rehearsals show different actors portraying Wu Song, all of whom perform the same scene. Desong compares their performances in his search for the ‘real’ Wu Song. When he finally finds the right one, his film is ruined because the living Wu Song shatters Desong’s illusions.

that’s: Can Chinese viewers accept your deconstruction of the Wu Song myth?
LY: I didn’t want to cause my compatriots too much grief by completely annihilating their hero; the destruction of idols and heroes is a painful process. [But] to reverse and to deconstruct [a myth] is also a pleasurable experience. This contradiction is, in my opinion, both inspiring and fruitful. In artistic terms, the process falls in the grey zone between affirmation and negation.
This film also addresses issues such as the contradiction between idealism and reality, tradition and modernity, money and art, etc. These contradictions are very much a fact of life in contemporary China. If I told you that heroes of ancient times are the criminals of the present day, what would you think?

that’s: Is black comedy a reflection of your personality?
LY: I’m a skeptical person. I like to explore that which is hidden, its multiple implications and multi-layered significance. In my past life, when I was an artist, I liked [French Dadaist] Marcel Duchamps and post-modernist concepts and art. Satire, provocation and playfulness are the most important characteristics of the post-modernism movement. So when I saw films that featured these qualities, I naturally liked them. For example, the films of Stanley Kubrick, the Coen Brothers, and Quentin Tarantino’s early works.

that’s: Is Men Desong and his approach to filmmaking a portrait of the current state of the industry in the Chinese mainland?
LY: No. Desong could never become a director; he’s [probably] too thick and slow-minded for that. Yet he may also be too smart. There’s a Chinese saying that goes “very intelligent people appear to be stupid.” So who knows, perhaps he could be a director after all.

that’s: Describe the role of a Chinese independent filmmaker.
LY: The Chinese independent cinema scene is much more political than the Western one. But I want to keep a distance from politics. My criticisms are [aimed] at the cultural level. I believe problems with reality, including political problems, are all related to and rooted in the cultural tradition.
I really like Arthur Rimbaud’s poem about “art being elsewhere”. And Milan Kundera’s interesting modification to that poem: “life is elsewhere”. I believe both life and art are elsewhere; only by having an ‘elsewhere’ can you really be independent. China’s current independent film scene is ambiguous and awkward. Many independent Chinese films are independent from the Chinese film system, yet they’ve fallen into the system of Western film festivals and film critics. It is very difficult to reconcile this contradiction, but not impossible.

that’s: Where does LIWS stand then?
LY: From LIWS’ financial investment to the production process to the inner spirit of the film, you can say it’s a 100 per cent independent film. But I don’t want to overemphasize this concept of independence because if you’re independent for the sake of being independent then you’re no longer independent. Independence doesn’t have a particular form – it’s a spirit, a state of mind.
LIWS is not a ‘realistic’ film but rather a ‘post-expressionist’ one; it goes back and forth between dream and reality. Yet, for a debut film and a Chinese independent film, the budget was slightly higher than the norm.

that’s: How do you expect audiences to react to such a film?
LY: To be able to balance art and commercialism is the highest aim in cinema. LIWS is trying to head in that direction. On the surface it’s funny, and underneath there’s satire and criticism. This can satisfy different types of audiences. In China, we say “people who have ethics will see ethics; wise people will see wisdom; common people will see the ordinary.” I hope that with LIWS I’ve come close to realizing this thought. It’s my deepest wish that the largest number of people can see my film, as it touches on universal themes.

Special thanks to Caroline Nath.

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

If more travel agents were to promote the Shaolin monastery as a major tourist spot, the current figure of 120 million annual visitors to China might double. That is, if those tourists believe, like the Irish lads from Westlife, that Shaolin monks are the one local attraction not to be missed. On their recent visit to Shanghai, the boys from the internationally-famous boy band said Shaolin was one of the reasons they came to China. In addition to seeing the Great Wall, trying their hand at calligraphy, experiencing acupuncture and “all these crazy things”. Of course, there was another small matter to attend to: promoting their act.
Like them or not, there’s more to a boy bands than just a band of boys (in this case Irish boys from Dublin and Sligo). One also needs an opportunistic music mogul and a goodly number of saccharine tunes with catch hooks, if one is to get anywhere at all. Not to mention a well-formulated plan to reassure parents and at the same time excite millions of prepubescent girls. That means a carefully designed, pristine public image, from hair styles to mannerisms, for media and fan consumption. No rock‘n’roll attitude here, no grabbing of crotches or groupies. Lastly, there’s stamina. The boys must stick together through thick and thin. Otherwise, as in the case of so many prefabricated bands, success is soon followed by disaster, which is to say, the band splits.
Not all of the above description applies to Westlife, a twenty-something foursome with white teeth and polished smiles. No, Kian Egan, Shane Filan, Mark Feehily and Nicky Byrne (Bryan McFadden left the band in 2004) are not quite your typical boy band. For one thing, they’ve managed to sustain their success for a remarkably long time – seven years. And their chart success is equally long-lived with multiple top ten hits such as “Seasons in the Sun”, “Uptown Girl” and “Flying Without Wings”. Indeed, the boys seem bigger than ever and are ready to face new challenges.
This year Westlife aims to conquer the world’s biggest market (China) with a flurry of audio-video products, high-profile promotions, and, not least, a major concert tour. Based, in part, on Face To Face, which sold 100,000 copies and went double platinum in the first week of its release in February.
The ‘West Meets East’ Tour is more than just a series of musical concerts. The boys want to meet, and be filmed, with ‘real‘ Chinese people, and not just big city Chinese people either; they plan to visit the hinterland as well. The result will be offered to the West on DVD, which will include a documentary and footage of their China gigs with local artists.
In the meantime, Egan, Filan, Feehily and Byrne, under the collective term Westlife, offered that’s their thoughts on life, motivation and success.

that’s: What has Westlife come to represent?
Westlife: Westlife has become more than just a boy band in the past seven years. We’ve become like a cult. For boy bands, everyone starts off at the same level. We’ve managed to go beyond that and become a pop version of a rock band, because most rock bands stay together for a lot longer than boy bands. We [all] share the same goal; we want to be as big as we can. We like to look at ourselves as a pop version of U2 or the Rolling Stones.

that’s: Before Westlife, you performed in Irish clubs such as “IOU.” What is the difference between now and then?
WL: Back then, we were just together for fun, playing like kids and not making money. We didn’t have the industry to work with; there were no lawyers and no producers. Now we’re living the dream we were only dreaming of then. We make a living, and we deal with the politics and the bad side of the [music] industry. Back then it was just good days and no worries.

that’s: Boyzone’s Ronan Keating is your co-manager. Has his boy band experience benefited your act?
WL: Yes. He was only involved at the very start, maybe for the first six to eight months. He helped us make some decisions and taught us about the music industry and how things work. But he didn’t do an awful lot; for us, the point was to get a lot of attention with his name.

that’s: It’s very common for boy bands to disband. What’s the story behind the departure of Bryan McFadden?
WL: Bryan wasn’t very happy in Westlife. He got to a point where he just didn’t want it anymore. It was a very big shock for us and we thought it was the end of Westlife. It was a very challenging time. Luckily enough, we came up very strong; we did a Wales tour after he left and most fans thought it was [sic] the best concerts we ever did. At the same time, it was important for Bryan to make this decision; he’s a happier person now. We realized then, that what we had could be taken away very fast. We became stronger after that. We are a happier band. We work hard together and make things happen. We have a lot more ambition [like] breaking into the China and Australia [markets]. The most important thing for us is definitively to maintain our success; we don’t want to continue unless we are very successful.

that’s: With four people, making decisions must be difficult. Is Westlife democratic, anarchic, or dictatorial?
WL: It’s more democratic to be honest. You can’t always get everybody totally happy. There can be someone who’s not fully happy, but is willing to go with the decision. You can’t decide if there is no majority. If three of us are willing, but one is really against something, then we’ve got to take that person into consideration and work out something.

that’s: Despite the competition, you stand out from the pack with 34 million in album sales. How do you explain your success?
WL: It’s quite difficult; a lot of bands are similar to us, yet they don’t have the same success. We were lucky; we came out at a good time. We have good vocals and good quality pop music; it’s very important in pop music to have very good standard pop songs. In pop music there are A-shelf songs, B-shelf songs and C-shelf songs; most of our songs are A-shelf songs. We’ve got the top producers to write us the best songs they could ever write. Besides, our record company and our manager really understand what is best [for us]. They see what needs to be done, and do it.
So far, we’ve made good decisions and chosen really good songs and that’s why we are still there. We love what we do and we want to continue as long as possible. We’d like to stay together for a minimum of two or three more years anyway.

that’s: Westlife’s one of the most downloaded bands in China. What are your thoughts on fighting piracy?
WL: Every market is so different, so it’s very difficult to get involved. For us it’s not all about money; it’s about our fans and our music. If they can afford to buy our record, then they buy it. If they can’t, let them [buy bootlegs]. We are not going to go after them. The record company might; they are there to make money. The record company has to come up with the best ideas to stop piracy.

that’s: What challenges did you face during the production of Face to Face?
WL: We had a big challenge in picking top quality songs. It took a year and a half looking for all these songs. Last year, the “Rat Pack” project [Allow Us to Be Frank: a cover compilation of Frank Sinatra standards] gave us more time to find songs. With previous albums we had great songs and some that never really had an impact. We didn’t want to repeat that, but to make sure that every fan had a favorite. There’s a lot more variety [here] than before. The quality of “You Raise Me Up” or the duet with Diana Ross, and songs like that, are above standard. It’s proven to be the most successful album we’ve had in the last four years. It’s just a great pop album.

that’s: Steve Mac and Swedish hit maker ‘The Location’ are important collaborators, especially on this seventh release. Describe your working relationship.
WL: When it comes to picking the songs for the album, it doesn’t really matter where they come from, who writes them or anything like that. We’re more interested in how good the song is. Since the very beginning we’ve been working with the best [songwriters] in the world. And that’s the main reason why we’re still here seven years later. We’ve four or five fantastic songs for this album. Steven Mac and ‘The Location’ are amazing producers. They gave us some top, world-class songs.
We also feel it’s good to stay with the same people because you get their best songs. Take the Backstreet Boys; they have Max Martin [to write their songs]. He would never give us a song before [offering it] to them.

that’s: The cut “She’s Back” sounds like Michael Jackson at his best. Are you fans of Jackson?
WL: Yes. It’s a complete rip off of “Billie Jean” [from Thriller]. Just listen to the backing track. Even the songwriter will tell you that. He wanted to create a song with the essence of “Billie Jean” without being “Billie Jean”. It’s not even half as good as the original, but it’s good disco/funk. It’s not a tribute to Jackson though; it’s actually a tribute to the backing track. “Billie Jean” has one of the most famous backing tracks in the world; so many acts have used it.

(c) that's Shanghai Magazine
Chief editor: Steven Crane
Photo courtesy Mick Ryan www.mickryan.com.
May 2006 issue

The business of acting is one of extremes. In China, as elsewhere in the world, actors face ruthless competition and, at times, near unbearable pressure. Of course, there are compensations: money and fame, for example, not to mention the sort of personal satisfaction that comes after giving a fine performance. In short, acting is far from dull. Little wonder then that Qingdao-born Xia Yu – devotee of skateboarding and other extreme sports – is so keen on his craft.

Indeed, Xia Yu thrives on challenge. At 29, he has already worked in a dozen films and several TV-series, with some of the best in the business: upcoming directors Dayyan Eng and Xiao Jiang; seasoned filmmakers, Daniel Lee and Peng Xiaolian; and acclaimed fellow actors, Edward Norton, Ge You, Ning Jing and Jiang Wen. Critics and peers alike attribute Xia’s success, in equal parts, to his love of film and his passion for study. A rare passion. After all, not many actors, after winning the 1994 Venice Film Festival Best Actor Award for In the Heat of the Sun (Jiang Wen, 1994), would think to return to school. But even with recognition from his peers, Xia enrolled at the Beijing Central Academy of Drama to improve his acting chops. And a good thing, too. There, he met another skilled actress, Yuan Quan, a Golden Rooster Award winner and Xia’s current girlfriend; Yuan, by the way, was a classmate of both Zhang Ziyi (Memoirs of a Geisha) and Liu Ye (The Promise).
In 2005, Xia co-starred with Yuan in the hip comedy hit Waiting Alone (Dayyan Eng). They also star in Shanghai Rumba, the latest film from Shanghai-based director Peng Xiaolian (Shanghai Story, 2005). One might say the couple has been typecast. Shanghai Rumba is a multi-layered film, set in 1940s Shanghai, which portrays a couple of actors in love, on and off stage, which, of course, echoes the two leads’ romantic involvement.
Xia’s performance in this film is extraordinary – even by his standards. And with this role, he displays acting chops on par with, or superior to, the Chinese mainland’s best actors: Jiang Wen, Ge You, and Chen Daoming.
We sat down with Xia, freshly returned from Switzerland – where he won a snowboarding competition – to discuss his new film, and much more besides.

that’s: You take roles in art-house and commercial films. What are your criteria for accepting a given role?
Xia Yu: I consider many factors. First, the script: is it impressive or not? Next, I think about the people I’ll be working with, the director and the crew. For Shanghai Rumba, I had advice from my girlfriend [Yuan Quan]. She had already worked with Peng Xiaolian [Once Upon A Time in Shanghai, 1998] and she told me Peng was a good director. In addition, I also saw one of her movies, Shanghai Story (2005), which really touched me. Besides, Shanghai Rumba is about Shanghai and Peng is Shanghainese, and she can tell a Shanghai story better than any other director.

that’s: In the film, your character, Ah Chuan, uses the Stanislavski acting method.
XY: Actually, there are several excellent film acting techniques, from around the world, that all originated in the theater: Konstantin Stanislavski from Russia, Bertolt Brecht from Germany and Mei Lan-Fang from China.
In university, I studied Stanislavski’s method; it’s very influential in China, and of course, in the US. Here though, we combine elements from Mei Lan-Fang’s method. In the period Shanghai Rumba [1940s] covers, both these methods were widely employed and considered the most important techniques in the world.

that’s: In Shanghai Rumba, you wear a moustache, which gives you a mysterious, cool look, something like Tony Leung Chiu-wai’s character in Wong Kar-wai’s 2046.
XY: The character in the movie-within-the-movie is supposed to be an underground communist. Hence, the fake moustache. Then later, he’s supposed to play a street vendor, so he dresses like one and goes to sell stuff on the street to get the feeling of a hawker. He truly follows the Stanislavski method.

that’s: Yuan Quan studied Peking Opera for seven years. What acting method does she employ?
XY: Every actor has his own preference. Today, we use a combination of techniques from Brecht and Stanislavski. But in the 1940s, actors preferred only the Stanislavski method. So in the movie, I have to portray an actor who just uses that [method]. As for Yuan Quan, I was impressed by the way she changed her voice pitch and body language to match the way prostitutes were portrayed in the 1930s/1940s movies. It seemed natural, not the result of a specific method.

that’s: To co-star with your real-life girlfriend is a good marketing coup for the film.
XY: For Shanghai Rumba, it was more like fate than a specific plan; it was a chance for us to act together. Yet the Chinese mass media only cared about our relationship and wrote stories about us. They didn’t really care about the movie. We’ve been together for nearly eight years. At the beginning, we really wanted to work together because we were both so busy and had little time together. Nowadays, that’s not so much of a concern.
Peng really wanted Yuan Quan to be the lead in this film, and initially, she didn’t think of me. Later, when she saw me – I don’t know why – she thought I was the right actor for the male lead. It was just fate.

that’s: Yuan has said that you are a creative actor. What creativity did you bring to Shanghai Rumba?
XY: I changed the script a bit as I found the first draft sounded a little bit too fake. I proposed amendments at the beginning and the end of the story to make the film a bit more realistic. In the beginning of the film, Ah Chuan and Wan Yu [Yuan] are supposed to be happy and in love in ‘real’ life, but it didn’t work for me. Here are these two kids: he’s very romantic, but his life is a mess; worse still, she’s married to a very stubborn husband. In the 1940s, it would have been very difficult for these two young people to find happiness.
So I asked for changes so that the love story happens within the film, and not in ‘real’ life. They kiss, but only during the shooting of a movie.

that’s: Director Peng said that the film is based on the life of actor Zhao Dan and his actress wife Huang Zongyin.
XY: Shanghai Rumba is not a mirror of Zhao’s life; it isn’t a Zhao biopic; it’s about more than just him. To prepare for the role, I watched a lot of movies from the 1940s, not only Zhao’s. I think my character is a mix of Zhao, and other actors of that period [Cai Chusheng, Shangguan Yunzhu and Wu Yin].

that’s: Compared to the 1940s, how is an actor’s life different today?
XY: Today the competition is ferocious, not just in China, but also from abroad. In the Chinese mainland market, we have films from all over Asia – Hong Kong, Japan, Korea, Taiwan Province, Singapore, Thailand and India – competing with domestic releases. In addition, a lot of actors from Korea, Japan and Hong Kong come to work in the Chinese mainland, which makes for tougher competition. It’s really a very competitive business now.

that’s: Some critics say that Hong Kong suffers from the ‘star syndrome’, which is to say that it boasts a number of big stars but no real actors. Was that your feeling while shooting Dragon Squad (Daniel Lee, 2005) in Hong Kong?
XY: I think they’re all real actors. It’s a cultural difference. In Hong Kong, the movie industry is much more entertainment driven. They produce a lot of commercial movies. You don’t see many mainland actors in that kind of action film. At the same time, in the Chinese mainland, you don’t find many Hong Kong actors who are suited to our more artistic movies.
I think real actors need real life experience. Acting comes from real life, but takes time to develop. In Hollywood, there are a lot of real actors. Before shooting a movie, they’ve time to rehearse and become the character they will portray. In the past, it was like that in China. But to give you an example, we had only one month to rehearse before shooting began on In the Heat of the Sun (1994). And in Hong Kong, a month would be a luxury; everything is just fast food. Most actors there work simultaneously on three or four movies. They don’t have time to rehearse, or to lead a life of their own. They lack sufficient ‘real’ life experience and that’s a problem. You need to experience ‘real’ life to be able to truly build a good character.
What’s more, you need talent, not just a pretty face.

SIDE BOX
Method masters

Konstantin Stanislavski (1863-1938) was associated with Russian dramatic realism. Stanislavski’s “method acting” is commonly used today. Its principle is: ‘the actor must live the life of the character.’ In Shanghai Rumba, Xia’s character Ah Chuan refers to this method.
Bertolt Brecht (1898-1956) was a German poet, playwright, and theatrical reformer. A prominent figure in the twentieth-century theater, his concept of ‘epic’ theater (narrative or non-dramatic) is still widely influential today.
Mei Lan-Fang (1894-1961) was a Chinese Opera star celebrated for his portrayal of ‘dan’ or female roles; he changed the standards of realism in the theater. His acting techniques are widely used by Chinese performers.
Zhao Dan (1915-1980), was the number one ‘people’s artist’ in the 1950s. He was held prisoner for five years during WWII, and then returned to Shanghai where he married actress Huang Zongying. In Shanghai Rumba, Ah Chuan’s background is partially based on that of Zhao Dan.

(c) that's Shanghai Magazine
Chief editor: Steven Crane
Photo 1 courtesy Hugo Hu www.huphoto.cdd.cn and photo 2 courtesy Mick Ryan www.mickryan.com.
April 2006 issue

It's been 100 years since China's first film, The Battle of Dingjunshan, essentially a recording of a Chinese opera performance, appeared on the silver screen. In the decades since, the medium has had its share of difficult times, but there is much to celebrate. Tributes have been extensively organized in China and the rest of the world; the 62nd Venice International Film Festival, for instance, opened and closed with contemporary Chinese movies and featured a retrospective of classic Chinese films. And in October this year, the City University of New York organized an international symposium and a retrospective of more than 30 Chinese movies. Professor Ying Zhu, who teaches cinema studies in New York, coordinated the event. The Shanghai-born expatriate, author of Chinese Cinema during the Era of Reform, offered that's a short history of Chinese cinema.

that's: How would you describe the evolution of Chinese cinema?
Ying Zhu: Tumultuous, yet inspiring.

that's: What are the most important periods in Chinese film history?
YZ: Chinese films are divided into six generations. The first generation was the pioneers of Chinese cinema, such as Zhang Shichuan (Burning of the Red Lotus Temple, 1928) and Zheng Zhenqiu (Orphan Rescues Grandfather, 1923). The second generation includes 1930s/1940s left-wing filmmakers who cultivated a realist tradition blending Classical Hollywood with the tradition of Chinese performing arts (Wu Yonggang's Goddess, 1934). The third generation consists of both the second-generation disciples such as Xie Jin (Two Stage Sisters, 1964) and the self-taught left-wing filmmakers of the 1940s.
The fourth generation was the first generation of professional filmmakers, including Wu Yigong­ (My Memories of Old Beijing, 1983). They received formal film training in the late 1950s, early 1960s, under the socialist educational system. The fifth refers specifically to the 1982 graduating class of the Beijing Film Academy and includes Chen Kaige and Zhang Yimou; famous for making experimental art films in the early to mid-1980s, they challenged the socialist-realist tradition. Finally, the sixth generation is a group of internationally-known young filmmakers from urban centers who appeared during the post-Mao era (Jia Zhangke with Platform, 2000).

that's: How would you describe the Golden Age?
YZ:Historically, there were two 'Golden Ages', the pre-war 1930s and the post-war 1940s. In the pre-war phase, the emergence of the leftist Lianhua Company revived national cinema and successfully pushed for the industry's early institutional restructuring. Leftist films achieved an astonishing critical and popular success with many classic movies (Street Angel and Crossroads). The post-war phase (1946-9) witnessed an output of films of artistic quality and popular appeal despite ideological divisions (Long Live the Mistress and Crows and Sparrows).

that's: And more recently?
YZ:The arrival of Chinese cinema's Art Wave/New Wave in the early to mid-1980s is certainly a "Golden Age" with the Chinese fifth generation films creating critical splashes all over the world. From the mid-1980s until the early 2000s, the Chinese film industry entered a recession. Several factors contributed to this downturn, including privatization of film infrastructure and competition with cable TV, video and Hollywood films.
However in 2004, for the first time in decades, China produced more than 200 movies and the total industry revenue increased by 66 per cent to nearly USD 435 million. Domestic film production, distribution and exhibition fields benefiting from new government regulations have permitted private and overseas investment in the cash-starved industry. Most significantly, domestic Chinese film receipts exceeded those from foreign films for the first time since 1994. Feng Xiaogang's A World Without Thieves and Stephen Chow's Kung-Fu Hustle earned handsome profits. Despite relatively small film output and rampant piracy, Chinese cinema looks to be at the dawn of yet another Golden Age.

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

It’s no secret that film directing in both China and the West is a predominantly male métier. But try telling that to director Peng Xiaolian. Not only has she defied the odds with a string of critically-acclaimed films, but she continues to go against the grain by making films in Shanghai, her hometown. While the city has become an attractive backdrop for major foreign film companies (most notably Warner’s The Painted Veil starring Edward Norton and Paramount’s Mission Impossible 3 with Tom Cruise), local filmmakers still struggle to get Chinese films off the ground. But Peng remains doggedly undeterred. The fifth-generation filmmaker insists upon shooting in Shanghai despite the fact that Beijing remains the best place by far to get a movie made in China.
Her latest film, Shanghai Story, was shot in 2003 and released in cinemas this year during the mid-autumn festival. The film, Peng’s tenth, is about the legacy of the “cultural revolution” in today’s China. Shot in just 45 days, the film was selected for competition in five international film festivals and swept a record four Golden Rooster Awards [China’s equivalent to the Oscars] in 2004, as well as the Best Actress Award at the 2004 Shanghai International Film Festival.
Peng always writes her own scripts, including dialogue from real-life conversations she has recorded. It’s a method she’s used to great effect since her student days in the late 1970s when studying at the Beijing Film Academy with alumni Zhang Yimou and Chen Kaige. Upon graduation and after a couple of art-house successes under the Shanghai Film Studio’s umbrella -- Me and My Classmate (1986) and Women’s Story (1989) -- she furthered her studies at the New York University. In 1996, she returned to Shanghai, a city she’s since made her permanent home. In the last nine years she has directed no less than six feature films. Amongst them, Once Upon A Time in Shanghai (1999) achieved cinematic release in the US, while Shanghai Women (2002) was a sleeper hit in Japan, running for 13 consecutive weeks. In an exclusive interview with that’s she discusses the film industry, and her favorite movie themes – Shanghai and Chinese women.

that’s: What drew you to filmmaking?
Peng Xiaolian: When I was young there was no one to take care of me at home during the summer vacations so my mother brought me to the studio where she worked as a translator for Russian films. I saw there how they made and processed films. I thought it was what I knew best and so, in 1978, I applied for entry to China’s only film school at the time, the Beijing Film Academy [BFA].

that’s: Your generation – the first after the “cultural revolution” – is referred to as the “fifth generation” filmmakers.
PX: That’s what a lot of people call it. But I don’t care for labels. Maybe it’s important to others, but not to me. The most important thing to me is that people care about who you are, what you’ve done, and if it actually makes sense.

that’s: Shanghai itself is a central feature of your films, Shanghai Story, Shanghai Women, and Once Upon a Time in Shanghai. You obviously have a special affinity with your hometown.
PX: Yes, Shanghai is like a character in my movies. The culture is so different from the rest of the country. It’s the most interesting, modern and artistic city in China. During the 30s and 40s there were many colonial concessions here. It was – and still is – a multicultural city. It’s like a foreign city in China. That’s why I pay a lot of attention to Shanghai, to its culture and to people who live here.

that’s: It makes sense; you grew up here.
PX: Yes, since I returned from New York, I love Shanghai more than ever. Shanghai is to China what New York is to the US. When I grew up here, I never appreciated how interesting Shanghai was. Everything was so commonplace. New York gave me the critical distance to appreciate just how interesting Shanghai really is. It wasn’t until then that I realized that Shanghai is the city I love the most.

that’s: What’s your latest film Shanghai Story about?
PX: It’s the story of a Chinese family and set after the “cultural revolution”. During this time many people were hurt emotionally and that’s what the film is about. Chinese people couldn’t cope with their feelings or with the shadows of this era. Shanghai Story is about a country – China - and its people. It’s about the lives of modern Chinese, their feelings and their thoughts resulting from the “cultural revolution”. So, this movie, like most of my films, is based on ordinary people’s lives, which is what I really care about.

that’s: Was it difficult to put the project together and how was it received?
PX: I was lucky with the Film Bureau in Beijing which gave the film a very favorable reaction. The final cut passed through the censorship process without a single word being changed. We won many Golden Rooster Awards in 2004. All 22 of the jury members voted unanimously for Shanghai Story as the best picture. So people were really moved by the film. It was also the first time they gave the Best Director Award to a female director.

that’s: You like to use real-life dialogue in your movies. Why?
PX: In Shanghai Story, the family story had to be natural; that is, they shouldn’t talk in a dramatic way. I wanted to give the film a docu-drama style. Actually we did a lot of beautiful photography and camera work so it doesn’t really look like a docu-drama at all!

that’s: Shanghai Story features strong female characters. How has the situation of Chinese women evolved since you made Women’s Story (1989) and Shanghai Women (2002)?
PX: Women’s Story told of the struggle of three peasant women in the 1980s when China started to reform. They flee from the country to the city and fight to change their lives. The situation for women is very different now. I couldn’t say it’s better, just different. Shanghai Women (2002) is about women in the big city who try to find their own spirit and space in life. Chinese society today is changing in a very commercial way. Now a lot of women who try to be independent have difficulties getting a job, whereas it’s easier for men. Company managers will hire a 45-year-old man but not a women older than 35. They encourage women to retire at 40 or 45. In the work environment they think a 30-something woman is already old! So there’s a gender and age issue here. It’s stupid. They just like pretty women and don’t care whether they’re smart or educated.

that’s: What about women in the film industry?
PX: It’s very difficult for women to make movies nowadays in China. The market is driven by commercial concerns, not cultural ones. In the ‘80s there were a lot of female directors. Now only a few women filmmakers make feature films. Most work in TV.

that’s: Is Shanghai the place to make modern Chinese films?
PX: It’s extremely difficult to make movies in Shanghai. I don’t really know why. I don’t think Shanghai will be the new cinema center in China any time soon. The Beijing film industry, however, is getting stronger and stronger. Not just because there’s the Beijing Film Academy, as people don’t care about school. What they care about is the market, the current situation and the powers that be. That’s what Beijing currently offers. It’s easier to make movies there and it’s very attractive for foreign investors.
Shanghai is simply too complicated and weak.

that’s: Filmmaking also takes center stage in your next project…
PX: Yes, it’s a movie called Shanghai Rumba starring celebrated actor Xia Yu [Waiting Alone]. It deals with filmmakers in the late 1940s, their work, lives and loves. They try to make left wing movies and have a lot of trouble with the national government of the time. They try to shoot secretly and to protect their low-budget films. Nowadays we still face the same financing problems. Like the characters in the film, we don’t have nearly enough money but we still try to make the best film possible.

Special thanks to Tomson Films and Runa Zhou.

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

Guanzhou Chief editor: Christopher Cottrell
November 2005 issue

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