I don't know why I should get so excited about discovering a Lam Fung movie in the pages of Southern Screen that appears to have never been released. It's not as if I can see any of her Shaw Brothers films that did make it to the silver screen. Besides the excitement of discovery and the lure of the unattainable, it must be this great picture of Allyson Chang Yen and Peng Peng that makes me so happy.
As you may know already, I've become a booster for the underused and underappreciated Chang Yen. And the delightful Peng Peng is always welcome in any movie, as far as I'm concerned.
Anyway, Woman Are Angels (女人是天神) looks like a fun film. Too bad it was never released — not that it would have made a difference in me ever being able to see it. Here is the original article from the November 1960 issue of Southern Screen.
The past few days I've been doing some research about Chinese American actress Soo Yong. One of her early film roles was playing Mae West's maid in Klondike Annie (1936). I'll have more to say later about Soo Yong (who seems to be yet another case of a great talent underused by Hollywood), but right now I'd just like to share this clip from Klondike Annie that I found on YouTube. I've known about Mae West of course, but I never saw her in action before. Here she is, decked out in Orientalist glam, playing the blues. How cool is that?!
I always feel a little sad when I think about poor Margaret Tu Chuan. Her career — and life — definitely didn't live up to the promises of spring. On November 30, 1969, Margaret and her girlfriend were found dead in each other's arms. In a desperate last bid for happiness, they had left notes asking to be buried together. Alas, that never happened...
Here's a glimpse from better days: 17-year-old Margaret — full of hope for the future — in her very first centerfold for Southern Screen (June 1960).
A Breath of Spring: Tu Chuan
Original name: Peng Hsiao-ping Native of: Chengtu, Szechuan Recent films: "How To Marry a Millionaire" and "When The Peach Blossoms Bloom"
Tu Chuan is the youngest among the Shaw stars, but she is the fastest rising one.
It was just one and a half years ago that she joined the ranks of Shaw's galaxy of stars. She scored her greatest triumph in her portrayal of Lily in "Twilight Hours", stealing all the scenes she appeared in.
Since then director Doe Ching has picked her for the stellar role in the light comedy "How To Marry a Millionaire", with Peter Chen Ho in the role of the leading man.
Tu Chuan has all the qualities that will destine her for success. She is not only talented, willing to work hard, and pretty, but she brings with her the freshness of youth to the screen and a breath of spring to the audience.
Tu Chuan has caught the attention of many a director whose keen eyes are trained to spot acting talent. It was director Li Han-hsiang who first noticed her and introduced her to Shaw Studio. When Otto Preminger visited Hongkong, he too picked Tu Chuan as one likely to succeed.
But attention and success have not turned Tu Chuan's young head. She works even harder than before to achieve her ambition to be a top actress.
Wow... this is a rare and unexpected treat: behind-the-scenes footage taken by Dutch photographer and filmmaker Michael Rogge during the making of This Mortal Wind (1954), starring Li Lihua, Yan Jun, and Liu Qi. The end of the clip also features footage of location shooting for the Hollywood film Soldier of Fortune (1955). Rogge was stationed in Hong Kong from 1949 until 1955 and prolifically documented the city and its people. Check out his YouTube channel for more fantastic clips and slideshows.
I just found out from the Hong Kong Movie Database's daily news forum (thanks dleedlee!) about Retrochine, a new album that reimagines the Shaw Brothers film songs of the 60s. It's conceived by Morton Wilson and Ian Widgery, who produced the hit album Shanghai Lounge Divas a few years ago that featured remixes of evergreen Mandarin pop songs from the 40s and 50s. While I didn't really like Shanghai Lounge Divas — sorry, but some things are better left untouched — I'm curious about their new album, which seems to employ a more collage-like approach that includes new live instrumentation and vocals. Here is a review of Retrochine from TIME and an interview with Morton Wilson from TimeOut Hong Kong. There is also a MySpace page, where you can sample four songs. Finally, check out this pretty cool video for the album's first single "Go Go!"
On October 20, 1938 Lee Ya-ching, "China's First Lady of the Air", arrived in San Francisco in preparation for her barnstorming tour across the United States in support of the Chinese War of Resistance against Japan. Her next stop was Los Angeles, where with the help of her friends Anna May Wong and Bernadine Fritz — a former newspaper reporter and noted salon hostess who had traveled extensively in China — she was introduced to the crème of Hollywood society.
Lee continued making public appearances throughout California and eventually met up with American aviator Jacqueline Cochran, who offered to sponsor her and helped secure an aircraft from the Beech Corporation. Now that she had obtained a plane, Lee was ready to begin her tour. But not before she enlisted the participation of fellow aviatrix Hilda Yan, one of her friends from Shanghai who was now living in the States and had just completed her flight training. They had often talked about starting an aviation club for Chinese women and were excited about the opportunity to work together. On March 23, 1939 Lee and Yan commenced their tour. They flew together on the first few legs of their journey until the delivery of Yan's own plane, when they then proceeded along separate itineraries. While Yan's journey was unfortunately cut short by a serious (but not deadly) accident on May 1, Lee safely completed her 3-month, 10,000-mile cross-country tour. Wherever she touched ground, she made a strong impression and garnered support for the Chinese cause. With her winning smile and glamorous white sharkskin flying outfit, it's no wonder that Americans were starstruck by "China's Pretty Propagandist"!
Lee Ya-ching's charm and beauty did not go unnoticed by Hollywood studios. MGM tried to sign her up for a supporting role in Lady of the Tropics (1939), starring "the sensational Heddy Lamar as Manon, fiery captive of the Tropics!" Whatever the reasons, the deal fell through and Lee was spared from appearing in — judging from the trailer — an egregious example of Hollywood's Orientalist fantasies. Far more dignified was the cameo appearance that she ended up making for Paramount in Frank Borzage's Disputed Passage (1939). Dorothy Lamour stars as an orphaned white American girl who was raised in China by Chinese parents, and John Howard plays a dedicated medical student who falls in love with her and follows her back to war-torn China. As he did with China Doll (1958), director Borzage sensitively handles the interracial aspects of the story. Lee Ya Ching must have felt this film was more deserving of her participation than Lady of the Tropics, and was probably tickled to play essentially herself, that is, a Chinese aviatrix. Here is a clip from the end of the film. John Howard lies in a coma, resulting from a head injury suffered after rescuing one of his young patients during a Japanese bombing, and is finally reunited with Dorothy Lamour, who is brought to his side by Lee Ya-ching around the 50 second mark.
Lee Ya-ching in Disputed Passage (1939)
There is a lot more to be said about Lee Ya-ching, not the least of which is her brief film career as a teenager in 1920s Shanghai under the stage name Li Dandan. But let me beg off telling that story and instead recommend to you Patti Gully's superb Sisters of Heaven: China's Barnstorming Aviatrixes, which explores the lives of Lee Ya-ching, Hilda Yan, and Jessie Zheng. And to get you started, here is an article about Lee Ya-ching from the Smithsonian's Air and Space magazine. Finally, here is a comic book biography (1.4 MB PDF) of "China's First Lady of the Air" that appeared in True Aviation Picture-Stories No. 3 (June-July, 1943).
Lee Ya-ching in True Aviation Picture-Stories (1943)
It's been 7 years since I left high school and the memories are still very fresh in my mind. I can remember the stupid stuff I used to do in class like play wrestling, throw tables and chairs, flirt with the junior girls, skip school to go to the cyber cafe or to go to the mamak... Damn, I even remember getting cainned in Form 3 for playing 'lastic'. Those were the glory days... I regret... I regret not doing it more often :P
Anyway, recently I helped to organize a class reunion for my Form 5 classmates. Out of the 48 students we had, only 10 of us attended. It started like this: We went to my class teacher, Puan Soh's, house in the afternoon and brought her out for lunch at Telok Gong, Klang. She was so happy because this was the first time in her teaching career that her students actually brought her out for makan. She said she was proud of all our current achievements. She still remembers all our full names and also where exactly we used to sit in class (her memory is so good).
I really miss high school. The care-free life... amazing memories...
I recently discovered the little known history of Chinese American vaudeville performers thanks to Krystyn R. Moon's fascinating book Yellowface: Creating the Chinese in American Popular Music and Performance, 1850s-1920s and am currently in the thick of researching two of its pioneering stars, Lady Tsen Mei and Princess Jue Quon Tai. I'm planning on posting about the two of them in the coming weeks, but in the meantime here is a little something about a singer named Anna Chang, "a vivacious little Chinese prima donna who certainly knows how to get the blues out of American songs" (Syracuse Herald, April 8, 1928).
"A product of San Francisco", Miss Chang started singing when she was six years old, and "ere long she was well versed in American popular songs of the period" (San Antonio Light, July 28, 1929). As far as I can tell, she made her debut with Paul Ash and his Granada Orchestra at the Granada Theater in San Francisco, probably sometime in 1924, when she could also be heard on the Oakland Tribune's Radio KLX, singing popular tunes like "Dancin' Dan". In 1928, Chang toured the United States with the variety revue "Hula Blues", "a new kind of Hawaiian beauty show, which entrances its auditors with its soft, melting harmony, and twanging ukuleles" (Suburbanite Economist, June 15, 1928).
The following year, Chang starred with Hatsu Kuma in a Paramount musical short, Two Little Chinese Maids (1929). Three years later, she made another one-reeler for Paramount called Singapore Sue (1932), which featured Chinese American vaudevillian Joe Wong, Pickard's Chinese Syncopators, and a young Cary Grant in his first film appearance. Here is a clip of Chang singing "How Can a Girl Say No?" and saying "no" to Grant, a cocky sailor who tries to woo her but ends up with a squirt in the face!
I've been unable to find out what happened to Chang in the wake of her flash-in-the-pan Hollywood career. But in 1941 she was back in San Francisco, headlining at the Jade Palace and staking her place as the "Chinese Princess of Song" in the city's vibrant nightclub scene. Filmmaker Arthur Dong has made an amazing documentary called Forbidden City, USA, which tells the story of the performers at Charlie Low's Forbidden City nightclub during that time. Still, there is much research to be done to fully recover the rich history of Chinese American vaudeville. Thankfully, Singapore Sue has survived to give us a glimpse of one of its shining stars.
* Lead photo of Anna Chang from Vaudeville, Old and New: An Encyclopedia of Variety Performers in America
In a previous post about Shaw star Pearl Au Kar-wai's sojourn in the United States, I mentioned that she had attracted the attention of Cary Grant at a party thrown by Otto Preminger (who had invited Pearl to star in the never completed The Other Side of the Coin). The encounter was reported by New York gossip columnist Dorothy Kilgallen in her March 10, 1959 column. I was happy to find this photograph in the June 1959 issue of Southern Screen. It must have been taken on that occasion. Pearl looks pretty stoked!
This post is a special shout-out to Tars Tarkas, who gave me lots of love on his blog the other day. I was perversely happy to hear him confess that he is driven crazy by my penchant for posting about "some awesome-sounding Chinese film that probably no longer exists". Believe me, I drive myself just as crazy! And I often wonder why I am more excited about some film I will never be able to see than I am about the newly released second part of John Woo's Red Cliff, the "most expensive Chinese-language movie ever". What's wrong with me?!
Well, here's another lost treasures to drive me and Tars crazy (and anyone else who gets excited about such things): a flyer for the 1952 film The Precious Sword and the Magic Bow aka Three Lady Fighters aka Daughters of Musketeer. It's directed by martial-arts movie pioneer Yam Yu-tin and stars Hong Kong action queen Yu So-chow and Yam's daughter Yam Yin.
Last month I posted about Lai Yee (aka Marianne Quon), Hong Kong cinema's "Technicolor Movie Queen", and her previous career in Hollywood during the 40s. Lai's first American film was China (1943), starring Loretta Young and Alan Ladd. Young plays a school teacher trying to transport her Chinese students to safety, and Ladd plays a hard-boiled mercenary who sells oil to the Japanese army. Lai stars as one of the students, whose tragic demise after being raped by Japanese soldiers awakens Ladd's conscience and spurs him into joining the Chinese cause.
The film is a vehicle for Loretta Young and Alan Ladd, but 19-year-old Lai Yee has a few good scenes, including this one.
Shaw star Pearl Au Kar-wai sightseeing in Hollywood
The May 1959 issue of Southern Screen just arrived in the mail today (via my "time capsule subscription"), and I was happy to discover this photo and accompanying article about Pearl's stay in the U.S.A. It makes for a fortuitous conclusion to my previous entry.
Pearl's Homecoming
Pearl Au Kar-wai, Hongkong's pretty little mermaid is back in town.
She was away for only four months in the United States, but it had seemed such a long time, and she was badly missed.
It was for this reason that the Shaw Organisation decided to cut short her stay in the United States and ask her to come back to Hongkong. She hopes to go back to the States again six months later to continue her dramatic studies there.
Kai Tak Airport on March 22 saw a warm homecoming for the petite star, as a large crowd of friends and relatives were on hand to welcome her back.
While in the United States, Hollywood producer Otto Preminger took her under his wing. It was Otto Preminger who spotted the pretty star while he was in Hongkong about a year ago, and decided that she had the talents to make a top actress.
He invited her to go to the United States, and to give her a chance to study drama there. Pearl's time was well-spent in the United States, and she utilized most of her time to learn, with very little time to enjoy herself.
Now back in Hongkong, she is going to take a little rest before she starts working again. Shaw Studio has big plans for its bright young star, but is keeping mum on them just yet.
Xu Lai, the first Chinese actress to do a bathtub scene (ca. 1932)
Some of you may have wondered what the title of my blog means. It's inspired by a schism in Chinese film criticism that took place in mid-1930s Shanghai. On one side of the ring were the advocates of "soft film", modernist artists and writers who believed in a cinema of attractions ("ice cream for the eyes and a sofa for the soul"). On the other side were the proponents of "hard film", left-wing intellectuals who wanted to use movies as a political tool to educate and mobilize the masses.
In the essay "Hard Film versus Soft Film" (published in the December 1933 issue of Modern Screen), Huang Jiabo bemoaned the fact that Chinese cinema was being "starched" by ideological interests and drained of entertainment. Of course, the backdrop for this debate was the increasing Japanese encroachment on China (as well as the ongoing Western colonial occupation) and the battle between the Nationalist and Communist parties for control of the nation. While the "soft film" advocates may be accused of burying their heads in the sand during a time of crisis, later actions by both the Nationalists and the Communists belie the myth of the moral highground so beloved by political ideologues.
Anyway, as much as I dig the left-wing films of 1930s Shanghai (many of which were nonetheless still quite soft), the arguments of the "soft film" camp really struck a chord with me in regard to my own struggle reconciling my love of film with my decidedly ill-fitting "higher" education in film criticism.
"Soft film" gave me a water pistol to act on my gripes and grudges about academic scholarship and a paradigm to map some of the beliefs and passions that have been guiding me lately:
"soft" Web publishing vs. "hard" print publishing
"soft" amateur scholarship vs. "hard" professional scholarship
"soft" open access vs. "hard" restricted access
Most of all, learning about film should be fun and not like straining to take a crap when you've been constipated for seven days straight (believe me, I've read an unfair share of academic articles and books that successfully approximate that experience).
Anyway, before my collar gets too stiff from all this talk of meaning and mission, let's take a break and enjoy this bathtub scene from the 1968 film No Time for Love featuring sexpot Tina Ti and forget all about the unpleasant anti-colonial, communist riots that happened in Hong Kong that previous year! ;)
For more information about the soft/hard film debate and for a good example of the kind of film writing that I do like (informative and interesting, not obscurantist or politically correct), check out Zhang Zhen's An Amorous History of the Silver Screen: Shanghai Cinema, 1896-1937.
