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ONCE UPON A TIME IN HONG KONG: A TSUI HARK RETROSPECTIVE May 25-28, 2001 at the Anthology Film Archives |
| TSUI
AND I by Ric(hard) Meyers |
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| When I first met Tsui Hark in Hong Kong, he was "just a producer," surrounded by the promotions for A Better Tomorrow, which was opening the next day. I had seen Zu Warriors of the Magic Mountain, but was more interested in meeting John Woo, the soft-spoken director of this interesting "drama" that was promising to advance the cause of HK cinema. And since John could autograph ABT posters right there at the Film Workshop offices, and I'd have to get a Zu poster from Golden Harvest before Tsui could inscribe it, I have to admit my attention was centered on Woo (selfish bastard that I am). The following evening I found the last remaining seat for A Better Tomorrow all the way on the other side of Hong Kong Island, and by the time it was over I joined thousands of other film lovers in the streets of the relatively small country, babbling incessantly about this energized fever-dream. The resulting fervor changed Film Workshop's hospitality overnight. No longer were their doors open to any foreign writer who just happened by -- now they had to plan their time carefully. I did manage to reach Tsui's wife, producer Nansun Shi, one last time before I headed home. The striking black and white posters for Peking Opera Blues (1986) -- Tsui's first directorial job since the seemingly minor Working Class (1985) -- were all over town, but he was too busy editing the film and planning an extremely private rough cut screening to see me before my plane took off. The next time I met Tsui Hark, he was basking in the success of Peking Opera Blues, A Better Tomorrow, and his production of A Chinese Ghost Story, surrounded by props from his planned sfx-filled, multi-million dollar version of The Monkey King saga (which, sadly, was never to be). Now I really knew who he was, and was interviewing him for a possible berth on Jonathan Ross' Son of the Incredibly Strange Film Show (which would air on Channel 4 in the U.K. and the Discovery Channel in the U.S.). We talked about how frustrated he was about not getting the time and money he wanted to finish Zu the way he envisioned it, but how pleased he was that he had managed to bring visual effects into Hong Kong. But as much as I enjoyed Peking Opera Blues, I kept trying to bring the subject back to John Woo -- completely unaware that the latter had gone off to make Bullet in the Head while Tsui was personally slaving almost around the clock to make A Better Tomorrow III (his first directorial assignment in three years) in time to beat Woo's masterpiece into the cinemas. I only understood that later, after having strongly recommending that the SotISFS episode concentrate on Woo and Sammo Hung. But Jonathan was captivated (as it were) by ghostly vixens, so Hark shared the show with Reanimator director Stuart Gordon, since, ultimately, the producers were unable to fill the time with just Chinese ghost clips. Still, the episode had a fascinating coda showing Hark on the set of ABT3, trying to steal the thunder from his previous filmmaking partner. By then, Hark's double-edged reputation was established: a brilliant filmmaker and visionary who might clash with equally opinionated directors. Ultimately he discovered what many of his fans already knew. If he wanted something done right, he'd have to do it himself, because equally talented directors would eventually find the freedom they needed elsewhere. Even so, no director who ever worked with him would speak out unequivocally, because Tsui's brilliance and ability were always more powerful than his need for control. And, although his contributions to such films as Roboforce (aka I Love Maria) and The Laser Man might be termed meddling at worst, the film industry needed him much more than feared him. Yes, he could be an annoyance to the government because of the political tendencies he displayed in We're Going to Eat You (1980) and Dangerous Encounter-1st Kind (1980), and he could wrest his directors' vision more toward what he wanted rather than they wanted, but he had single-handedly revived a repeatedly moribund industry when it looked to stagnate or even die. He had done it with Zu, ABT, and the Ghost Stories. He had done it again with the Once Upon a Time in Chinas, resurrecting Wong Fei Hong into a new age, single-handedly reviving Jet Li's moribund career. But then, of course, Li had walked away to prove himself when the papers reported that Hark had apparently maintained something along the lines of "You're nothing without me." But no one could stay mad at Tsui for long, since his concepts were required to keep HK film afloat. Whether he was trying to push the sfx envelope ever further (Twin Dragons, 1992), integrate artistic sexual themes (Green Snake, 1993), or bring back mythological adventures (Magic Crane, 1993), he was always looking for the next trend, single-handedly creating it with one beautifully conceived and made film after another. He did it yet again with The Chinese Feast in 1995, ushering in an era of delicious food-based comedies. But then 1997 loomed, and every politically-charged filmmaker had to make a choice. John Woo was already packing, and even the filmmakers who publicly declared confidence in the Mainland government privately held their breath. Tsui experimented in making movies in the Mainland cinematic style of Zhang Yimou by remaking The One Armed Swordsman as The Blade. But that still wasn't enough to secure his artistic freedom. So he stayed away until the dust settled. Why else would he direct two Jean Claude Van Damme films, when even John Woo and Ringo Lam could only deal with one each (Hard Target and Maximum Risk, respectively)? After Knock Off (1998) and especially Double Team (1997)-- where Hark not only had to deal with Van Damme but both Dennis Rodman and Mickey Rourke -- I imagine the Red Chinese government looked like Mother Theresa. These two films were punishment enough, and Tsui Hark went home knowing he could stand anything. Happily, the government wasn't HK cinema's greatest threat, but, unhappily, audience ennui and uncontrolled piracy was. After two decades of great filmmaking, the new breed started shying away from overwhelming action and emotion while bootleggers crippled cinemas by selling literally millions of $2.50 rip-offs. Tsui tried to respond with another galvanizing production, but he hadn't worked in Hong Kong for almost four years. He wrote, directed and produced Time and Tide (2000) but it wasn't enough. Still, they know him too well and need him too much to count him out. Stepping back, he reconceived two of his most popular and costly films, then took advantage of the new sfx introduced in such films as The Storm Riders (1999) to create The Legend of Zu and City of Masks (the sequel to his Jet Li superhero saga Black Mask) -- two epics that require a big screen for full enjoyment. Tsui Hark is back, and for everyone's sake the film-loving world hopes this master martial movie artist is better than ever. RIC (Richard, Richard S.) MEYERS is the author of Great Martial Arts Movies: From Bruce Lee to Jackie Chan & More (Kensington Books 2001), movie columnist for Inside Kung-fu and Asian Cult Cinema magazines, and World Martial Art Hall of Fame member for his "contribution to the martial art movie industry." In addition to many other novels and non-fiction books, his audio commentaries can be heard on the dvds of Tsui Hark's ONCE UPON A TIME IN CHINA and DRAGON INN as well as many other films. |
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2001 Subway Cinema, LLC. All Rights Reserved.