Diana Chang: The Most Beautiful Creature in Free China

"The Most Beautiful Creature in Free China"... that's what they called her.

This 1958 pinup of Diana Chang Chung-wen amply demonstrates why she was the reigning sex symbol of Hong Kong cinema during the late 50s. Was she a secret Cold War weapon deployed by the Nationalists to win the hearts and minds of undecided Chinese men around the world? I don't know, but Diana was definitely a Z-Bomb with immense seductive power.

Once again, a big big thanks to Oldflames for providing this tasty piece of cheesecake! If you would like to see a more mature, but just as sexy, pinup of Diana taken only three years later, then take a look over here.

Further Reading
Diana Chang biography by Paul Fonoroff

Made in America: Grandview's Color Films

I've talked before about the pioneering 16mm color films of Joseph Sunn Jue's Grandview Film Company. Recently, I had the good fortune of acquiring a few fliers for some of these movies from an eBay seller in Malaysia (which is proof of just how far they traveled).

Jue, along with director Moon Kwan, had established the Grandview Film Company in San Francisco in 1933. The studio's inaugural feature was Romance of the Songsters, starring Kwan Tak-hing (best known for playing Wong Fei-hung in the original 1950s series). One of the first Cantonese talkies, the movie was a big hit with Chinese American audiences and was popular in Hong Kong as well.

In 1935, with the support of Chinese American investors, Jue moved the studio to Hong Kong, where it quickly became one of the colony's "big four" film companies. Grandview's prolific output included patriotic appeals like Lifeline (1935) and Close Combat (1937), direct responses to Japan's increasing aggression against China, and light-hearted fare such as The Modern Bride (1935) and Stage Lights (1938), which provided momentary escape from the darkening clouds of war.

The Japanese invasion of Hong Kong in 1941 put a halt to film production in the territory. Undeterred, Jue returned to San Francisco and continued making movies. Between 1942 and 1947, 21 features were made: all contemporary stories depicting the lives of Chinese Americans. The films were shot on 16mm, some in black-and-white and some in color. Most Hollywood movies were still black-and-white at the time, so Jue's decision to shoot in color was quite ambitious. After opening at his Chinatown theater, the films traveled to Chinese American communities across the United States. (I've been unable to determine if they were screened anywhere outside the U.S. during the war.)

In 1947, after the end of the war, Jue returned to Hong Kong and brought the films with him. They were enormously popular and helped raise the money needed to restart his Hong Kong studio. Eventually, the films were screened in Malaysia and Singapore, where the fliers below were printed.

The American productions of the Grandview Film Company deserve far more attention than they have received (especially here in the U.S., where they've been practically forgotten). At a time when the Japanese occupation of Hong Kong and Shanghai resulted, respectively, in the cessation and co-option of Chinese film production, Joseph Sunn Jue helped keep Chinese cinema alive. That these films also depicted the lives of Chinese Americans at a crucial turning point in their history makes them even more important.

Luckily, a third of Grandview's American films have survived and are available for public viewing at the Hong Kong Film Archive. I'm planning on taking a look at some of them during my upcoming trip to Hong Kong, so stay tuned for a report. In the meantime, here are the fliers for four of Grandview's color films shot in and around the San Francisco Bay Area.




Joy and Peace
HK release: March 6, 1947
Prod: Joseph Sunn Jue
Dir/Scr: Chiang Wai-kwong
Cast: Sun Chu, Wong Chiu-mo, Tang Pui, Chow Kwun-ling (aka Patricia Joe), Man Ha, Wong Hok-sing, Leung Bik-yuk
Note: The flier's use of the Republic of China flag and the graphic "V" (for "Victory") indicates that this was one of Grandview's patriotic movies. It is not known whether the film survives.




The Returned Soul
HK release: October 9, 1947
Prod: Joseph Sunn Jue
Dir/Scr: Wong Kam-yan (pseudonym of Wong Hok-sing)
Cast: Leung Bik-yuk, Tang Pui, Wong Hok-sing, Sun Chu, Wong Kam-lung
Note: The studio also produced more typical genre fare like this detective thriller. It is not known whether the film survives.




A Strong Wind Banished the Swallow
HK release: September 6, 1948
Prod: Joseph Sunn Jue
Dir: Joseph Sunn Jue
Cast: Lai Yee (aka Marianne Quon), Tang Pui, Liu Kei-wai, Chiu Man-fai, Wong Kam-lung, Shum Lit-fu, Tam Chui-lan
Note: A copy of this film is in safekeeping at the Hong Kong Film Archive; a reference video is available for viewing at the Archive's resource center.




A Fair Lady by the Blue Lagoon
HK release: March 6, 1949
Prod: Joseph Sunn Jue
Dir: Esther Eng
Cast: Siu Fei-fei, Liu Kei-wai, Tang Pui, Wong Hok-sing, Wong Kam-lung
Note: The director Esther Eng is one of Chinese cinema's pioneering female filmmakers. Evidently, none of the nine films she made survives today.


References and Further Reading

• Hong Kong Cinema: A Cross-Cultural View by Law Kar and Frank Bren
• "The American Connection in Early Hong Kong Cinema" by Law Kar, from The Cinema of Hong Kong: History, Arts, Identity
• Silver Light: A Pictorial History of Hong Kong Cinema, 1920-1970 by Paul Fonoroff

Chow Kwun-Ling: A Gal Named Joe

Here's some random stuff I recently found about Patricia Joe (Chow Kwun-ling), a Chinese-American actress who got her start in San Francisco at Joseph Sunn Jue's Grandview Film Company before becoming a big star in Hong Kong after World War II.

First up is a short blurb about Patricia that accompanied the above photograph in the "Interesting People" section of The American Magazine (March, 1945). Once the United States had entered World War II, Chinese began to be portrayed in the American media as the "good" Asians, while Japanese were demonized as the "evil" Asians. What didn't change, however, was that good ol' American ineptness when talking about other cultures. The description of Patricia as a Chinese Hedy Lamarr is a little out of left field.

A Gal Named Joe

In San Francisco's Chinatown the Chinese population of America has its own Hollywood. And the Hedy Lamarr of the lot is shapely, 21-year-old Patricia Joe, who works days in a business firm as a secretary and does her heavy emoting at night in front of the cameras of the Grandview Film Company, the world's leading producer of Chinese films. She is paid $300 a picture. Pat's real name is Joe Quan Ling, which means Universal Brightness Joe. Daughter of a tobacco merchant, Pat was born in Hawaii. She always wanted to be an actress, and finally made the grade when she got a bit in a solid Cantonese sender called The Lovers' Reunion. However, it was really in her second picture that Pat got her wheels off the ground. This epic was called The Calamity of a Country, or The Miser's Fate. When the release of this job came about, little Miss Joe won her way into the heart of every oriental film fan from San Francisco to the Chinese Theater in New York. None of her pictures have reached China, because of the war, but as soon as the Japs are chased out, Universal Brightness Joe will have a chance to shine in the East.

Next is this darkly humorous photo and caption from the February 1939 issue of Chinese Digest, the first English-language periodical written by and for second-generation Chinese Americans. The Chinese characters in the background mean "to resist" or "to boycott". At the time, Japan's war machine was being fueled by scrap iron from the United States. Chinese Americans were active in picketing the ships containing this cargo. They also initiated boycotts of Japanese products such as silk, one of Japan's leading exports.

You Will, Will You?
This appears to be what Catherine Joe is saying to her sister, Patricia, as the former aims a gun at the latter for wearing silk stockings. These two misses are actively helping the committee of the China War Relief Association in their campaign to bring about a U.S. embargo of all war materials to Japan, and also the boycott of Japanese goods.

Finally, here are two photos from the San Francisco Public Library's Historical Photograph Collection, which I will respectfully not reproduce here on blog. Just follow the links!

• Patricia Joe performing in an all-Chinese fashion show in 1939


• Patricia Joe raising money for China war relief in 1944

Shanghai Mod Girls

Check out these two Shanghai mod girls, probably song-and-dance performers from the late 30s or early 40s. I love their style, which boldly combines traditional, yet updated, Chinese fashions — such as the du dou (halter top), wide-leg trousers, and woven bamboo hat — into an audacious ensemble. With the addition of Western two-tone tap shoes, the look is totally modern.

Nancy Chan: Riot Girl

I always thought that Connie Chan's fans took first prize for extreme devotion, but after reading the following account about Nancy Chan's fans from A Movie Queen Chan Yunshang, I'm not so sure anymore.

Film fans got so frantic about Nancy Chan that whenever she appeared she would be mobbed by hundreds of people. She could hardly escape from the seige and sometimes she had to be escorted by the police.

One summer's day, the Zhangyuan Swimming Pool, which had been taken over by Zhang Shankun [the famous Shanghai movie producer], was opened officially. In order to make the ceremony more significant and to attract more clients, Mr. Zhang invited Nancy Chan to cut the ribbon.

Almost 100 baskets of flowers were displayed around the pool; tri-coloured ribbons were strung over the water, fluttering in the breezing. The platform was filled with people eager for Nancy Chan's appearance. The tension built up.

At 11 o'clock sharp, the smiling Nancy Chan appeared. Her red-flowered swimming costume and white leather shoes enhanced her youthful, healthy body. The crowd cheered and applauded.

In the boisterous atmosphere, Nancy Chan ascended the platform. Raising the silver scissors she cut the ribbon. As the six pieces of ribbon flew out in all directions, the whole audience rose with frantic applause.

When she was about to descend from the platform, wave upon wave of frenzied fans pushed towards her, a momentum that could not be resisted. Nancy Chan was weeping, unsure of how to escape. Although she was protected by three rows of people, the huge crowd was almost uncontrollable. Seeing this, Mr. Zhang asked the Swimming Pool staff to bring her to safety. But the situation was deteriorating. The crowd surrounded her tightly, shouting to her to jump from the platform.

Unable to get close to Yunshang, Mr. Zhang tried to reason with the crowd and explain why she could not jump. Nobody listened. Numerous fans charged the platform, insisting that she should jump. It was impossible. Both sides came to a halt. Nancy Chan was almost fainting. Mr. Zhang got an idea. He asked his staff to put a ladder out of the window of the Enquiry Office to make a way for Nancy Chan to escape. But the ladder was thrown aside by the crowds.

There seemed to be no way out. He ordered his bodyguards to fight a way through. When at last they managed to escape, Nancy Chan was on the point of collapse. She and Mr. Zhang jumped into the car and made off quickly.

In the car they both gave a long sigh of relief. "I was terribly worried about your safety", Zhang said, "the fans have lost all their rationality". He gently mopped her brow. "But, looking at it in another way, it shows how important you are in their minds. There is no doubt that you are the number one star in Shanghai".

The incident taught her to be more careful about her own safety. She had to accept the advice of the police and use a car that could give electric shocks when anyone touched it. Such cars were made especially for Heads of State. But it was necessary, in order to avoid over-turning by excited film fans. Of course, the car itself caused no injury.

Nevertheless, Nancy Chan Yunshang understood the over-enthusiastic action of her fans. "Without the fans, there would be no actors or actresses", she would say. "They please me, no matter what they do. But I do have to adopt some measures to avoid danger".

From then on, she refused to attend any ribbon-cutting ceremonies....

*A great big thanks to Oldflames for sharing the fabulous Nancy Chan magazine cover!

Nancy Chan: China's "Oomph Girl"

Here's a fun article about Nancy Chan from the May 2, 1941 issue of The Times Recorder (Zanesfield, Ohio). "The Oomph Girl", by the way, was the nickname given to Hollywood actress and popular pinup Ann Sheridan.

Chinese Have Their Own Oomph Girl
By ADELINE GRAY
AP Feature Service

SHANGHAI — Sweet-faced dynamic Nancy Chen, the oomph girl of Chinese motion pictures, is making China forget 4,000 years of history in which all her heroines were passive, subdued maidens.

Miss Chen, idol of all Cathay, reflects the changing times in her country. She is an advocate of women's freedom, equality of the sexes, and Westernization. She receives hundreds of fan letters a day and causes near-riots wherever she goes. And China loves it.

Nancy is the Western version of Miss Chen's real name, "Yunshang", which means "cloud-like gown". Off the set, she usually wears American-style clothing, and is accompanied by an English woman companion.

Family Ties in America
Nancy stands a little over five feet in her tennis shoes, weighs 110 pounds, and is unmarried. The delicate effect of her oval face, dark eyes and friendly smile is deceiving, for she is a bundle of spirits and vivacity.

Her private life, for a Chinese actress, has been far from sensational. She was born in Canton, daughter of a business family. Her grandfather was a merchant in the United States. During her last year in high school, she was discovered by a struggling film producer. Their first picture was a hit, and since then neither has had to worry about where the next bowl of rice was coming from.

Or rather, in Nancy's case, where the hors d'oeuvres were coming from. She serves foreign food to guests visiting her modern apartment in Shanghai's French concession, and entertains them with a piano selection or a dance.

As her appearances on the street are signals for mass demonstrations, Nancy exercises at home by playing badminton on the roof of her apartment. She drives her own automobile, a blue roadster, and swims well.

Butterfly Wu 'Resting'
Nancy has outstripped all other Chinese picture actresses in popularity in the past two years. Butterfly Wu, the dimpled darling of a few years ago, consort of generals and politicians, lives in semi-retirement in Hongkong, after contributing her own small share to China's enjoyment and to its history.

A living phrase, "Dancing with Butterfly" is dedicated to the night that the "Young Marshal" Chang Hsueh-liang was dancing with Butterfly in a Peiping hotel while the Japanese army was staging the Manchurian "incident" which cost Chang his country.

Nancy Chen makes about six pictures a year. Her salary is a secret, but it probably wouldn't buy a month's supply of lipstick for a Hollywood star.

Her roles are a film novelty in China. Butterfly Wu and former film and stage favorites always portrayed, in gloomy films, the good but victimized girl, the weak and passive tool of fate. Nancy portrays only the warrior girl, the girl on horseback.

"Maiden in Armor", which made her an overnight sensation, was the story of a girl who donned male attire and as an army commander helped to rid her country of ancient barbarians. Many of her other pictures show her as a general leading troops to victory, or as a court maiden who, to save her country, marries a barbarian chieftain.

*The photo above comes from A Movie Queen Chan Yunshang [一代影后陳雲裳].

Shanghai A-Go-Go: Nancy Chan

1960s Hong Kong? Nope... it's 1930s Shanghai.

Before Hong Kong mod girl Nancy Sit was even a twinkle in her parents' eyes, Nancy Chan — Cantonese cinema's first teen idol — was already rocking a mod look, with her high hemline and proto go-go boots.

If you're ever in Hong Kong, make a point of dropping by Avenue Joffre, a Shanghainese restaurant in Causeway Bay that I believe is owned by one of Nancy Chan's children or grandchildren. In the front bar hangs a wonderful collection of photos from her heyday as "Queen of the Chinese Screen".

Stay tuned for more Nancy!

*The photo above comes from the book A Movie Queen Chan Yunshang [一代影后陳雲裳].

Soft Film Video Jukebox: Cheer Chen

This week I'm featuring another one of my favorite Taiwanese singer-songwriters, Cheer Chen. While I'm not that familiar with her earlier acoustic work, two of her later rock albums that I own — Groupies (2002) and A Fabulous Adventure (2005) — are among my most frequently played CDs. For an overview of Cheer's career, listen to this webcast from China Radio International's "China Beat" program. Or just check out the following video for "Groupies", a delightful and humorous take on the starry-eyed, adrenaline-rush fantasy that comes with being a devoted fan.

Where are You, Tiger Boy?

Since Tiger Boy is something of a "holy grail" for martial-arts fans, I thought I should post these two articles from Southern Screen. The film was not among the Shaw Brothers titles restored and released by Celestial Pictures, and I've read conflicting information about whether it has survived. This may be as close as you'll get to ever seeing director Chang Cheh's groundbreaking film.

Tiger Boy

A suspenseful adventure-romance complete with tender love scenes and realistic rough-and-tumble fights. The story tells of the brave efforts of a gallant young knight known as Tiger Boy who is on a vengeance trail; he is torn between love for a childhood sweetheart and an older woman whom he meets in the course of his adventures. Based on classic Chinese adventure tales, the movie features a breath-taking duel scene.

Starring in the tense film are Margaret Tu Chuan, Chin Ping, Wang Yu and Lo Lieh. Chang Cheh directs.

—from Southern Screen No. 92 (October, 1965); scan available here.

Tiger Boy

The bold and brawny young man in the title role is Wang Yu, the modern Adonis whose name has become a household word among young female filmgoers.

"Tiger Boy" is a thriller, complete with exciting swordplay and tender romance. It is based on Chinese folk tales extolling selfless deeds of swashbuckling knights.

Directed by Chang Cheh, who also wrote the screenplay, the all-action film depicts the adventures of a gallant knight adept at fighting but at a loss when confronted with love problems.

—from Southern Screen No. 95 (January, 1966); scan available here.

Blowing in the Wind: The Smell of Beefcake

The magnificent trio: (from left) Cheng Lui, Lo Lieh, and Wang Yu

Lest you think I serve only cheesecake here at Soft Film, here is a tasty slice of vintage beefcake: Jimmy Wang Yu, Lo Lieh, and Cheng Lui — the first recruits in director Chang Cheh's yang gang ("macho") army of male stars. Check them out in this article from Southern Screen No. 81 (November, 1964). A scan of the original is available here.

Meet Shaws' New Male Talent

The female of the species continues to dominate Chinese cinema. As proof of this, Shaws recently had to advertise for several husky youths to act in a projected film tentatively entitled "Tiger Boy". The reason? The studio was unable to find any actors on hand able to play the starring roles. After careful screening, the following three were selected from among 1,000 applicants.

They are: Debonair Wang Yu, 20, a six-footer who has won several sprint finals in All-Hongkong swimming contests. After two screen-tests, he won a seven-year contract with Shaws and the lead role in "Tiger Boy".



Lo Lieh: This 24-year-old was given the supporting role in "Fight". A product of the Southern Drama Group, he was also awarded a seven-year contract with Shaws. He appeared in "The Butterfly Chalice" in the minor role of a general's bodyguard.



Cheng Lei: Selected to appear in "Fight" as a brave youth who protects his sister from ruffians.



Two other applicants were picked for possible future roles. They are Li Ying-tsung, a noted gymnast and Kwan Hung, a champion diver.

Tiger Boy (1966) was the first film over which Chang Cheh had total creative control. Although he was only allowed a small budget and had to shoot in black-and-white, the movie was a success and proved to Shaw Brothers that Chang's formula of graphic violence, brotherhood and honor, and muscular male stars was financially viable.

As a result, Chang was given the go ahead to make The Magnificent Trio, which was released later that year. Wang Yu, Lo Lieh, and Cheng Lui again starred together as Chang's new breed of heroes.

I've always been fascinated by the film's innovative title sequence and the way it captures a historic turning point in Hong Kong cinema. The burning flag in the opening shot loudly declares Chang's intention to shake up Shaw's female-dominated star system. Although top billing is still given to Margaret Tu Chuan, Chin Ping, and Fanny Fan, this is boldly contradicted by the image of Wang Yu, Lo Lieh, and Cheng Lui running towards the camera against an abstract blood red sky.

They may be billed as co-stars, but these three hunks are clearly the stars of the film — and indeed, harbingers of a new era in Hong Kong cinema.

Yang Pei Yun: Va-Va-Voom!

No doubt well aware of my fondness for bombshells, Oldflames kindly sent me this very sexy — and very sweet — photo of Yang Pei Yun, one of Singapore's top singers during the 1950s.

And if that weren't enough to make me feel like a lucky boy, my favorite YouTuber SHUESIK posted a rare clip from her 1960 film The Two Generations. As you'll see, Rosalind Yang was a statuesque beauty. According to Oldflames, this proved a hindrance to her film career because it wasn't easy to find an actor who could match her height. My first impression of Rosalind is that she is perhaps a little too aware of the camera to be a convincing actress, but that awarishness undoubtedly made her a very beguiling performer when singing in front of a live audience!

Photographic Gems from the National Archives of Singapore

This past weekend I discovered the Picture Archives Singapore website set up by the National Archives of Singapore. Here are a few of the wonderful photos I found. Click on the thumbnails to see a larger version, along with a descriptive caption. Unfortunately, the large versions feature a digital watermark smack dab in the middle of the image, but at least they have been made available for viewing on the Internet.


The Chang sisters (1955)


Mona Fong (1955)


Liu Qi (1956)


Helen Li Mei (1959)


Fung Bo-bo (1962)


Connie Chan (1967)


Nancy Sit Kar-yin (1967)


Margaret Tu Chuan and Pearl Au Kar-wai (1967)


Yam Kim-fai & Pak Suet-sin (1968)


Jenny Hu (1969)


Danny Kaye, Lily Ho, and Ivy Ling Po (1972)


So Ching (1973)


Hsu Feng (1973)

Soft Film Video Jukebox: Grace Chang

I'm sure you won't find this song on any of Grace Chang's greatest hits CDs, but "The Flying Car Song" from the 1959 film Our Dream Car is so charming that even people like me, who dislike cars and the inherently selfish culture of the automobile, will find themselves whistling along, nodding their heads in agreement to such memorable lines as "I can drive as fast as I like without any worries / It's like a rocket flying in the sky / I'm so happy that I can fly". So fasten your seat belts and let the lovely Miss Grace take you on a road trip back to the golden days of capitalist consumer culture!

Yang Pei Yun: The Beautiful Enigma

Recently on eBay I saw about a dozen photos of an enchanting actress named Yang Pei Yun. Since I'd never heard of her before, it goes without saying that I was irresistibly intrigued. I searched the online catalog of the Hong Kong Film Archive and found out that she had made just three films: an Amoy-dialect movie, He Has Taken Her for Another (1959), co-starring a young Ivy Ling Po; and two Cantonese movies, The Two Generations (1960) and Secrets between Husband and Wife (1962).

I had a hunch that there was more to Yang Pei Yun than this brief film career, but I was unable to find any other information online. So I asked Oldflames if he knew about her, and sure enough he was able to shed a little light on the mysterious Miss Yang. A pioneer of the Malaya/Singapore entertainment scene, she started singing in the mid-1940s and subsequently started her own highly successful performing troupe. She quit singing for a couple of years when she got married but staged a comeback in the late 50s, following in the footsteps of younger Nanyang singers like Zhuang Xue Fang, Chang Lye Lye, and Poon Sow Keng.

Last night I did manage to find this photo caption about Yang Pei Yun at the National Archives of Singapore website: "Miss Rosalind Yang was one of Singapore's top singers. With her good looks and sultry voice she captivated the hearts of many radio and nightclub fans. She was the most talked about person in the Chinese world of song."

Except for these scant traces, little else has been written about her. While she may have fallen through the cracks of history, Yang Pei Yun remains a beautiful enigma, still capable of captivating us today.

* A big thanks to Oldflames for providing the information and title of this post!

Anna May Wong and Her Technicolor Cheongsams

I was greeted with an unexpected surprise recently when I watched the DVD of The Good Earth (1937). The film adaptation of Pearl Buck's famous novel is mostly remembered nowadays for being the great denied opportunity of Anna May Wong's career. Before production started, there were reports of using an all-Chinese cast, including Anna May Wong, Soo Yong, and Shanghai star Hu Die. But, not surprisingly, the movie ended up featuring white actors in virtually all of the lead roles.

Anna May had been very keen to play the main character of O-Lan. It was an unprecedented chance to break out of the stereotype roles that she had been given by Hollywood throughout her career. When she was denied the role, the message could not have been more clear: Hollywood had no use for a Chinese American star.

Undoubtedly heartbroken, Anna May left at the beginning of 1936 for a nine-month tour of China. When she returned to the U.S., she appeared in the early Technicolor short Hollywood Party (1937), which is featured as an extra on The Good Earth DVD. I had no idea that Anna May appeared in this and only started watching it out of curiosity. I nearly stopped when I realized it was just a "yellow face" variety show. (Yet another missed opportunity, considering the abundance of talented Chinese American vaudeville performers.) But as I scrubbed through the film on my computer, I spotted two genuine Chinese girls on either side of a screen. I started watching again. One of the girls struck a gong, and who should emerge from behind the screen but Anna May Wong, modeling some of the exquisite cheongsams she picked up during her trip to China.

With the exception of her final film, Portrait in Black (1960) — in which she plays a maid — I believe Hollywood Party is Anna May's only other color film.* Okay, folks... here she is... the incomparable Anna May Wong in full Technicolor glory!



* I should mention that Anna May Wong does have the distinction of playing the lead in The Toll of the Sea (1922), the second two-strip Technicolor feature film ever made and the first to be given a wide release. Using only red and green, the experimental two-color process was an imperfect but impressive approximation of true color. The Toll of the Sea essentially launched Anna May's career. Just seventeen years old at the time, she was widely praised for her performance, both in the U.S. and overseas press.

Angela Yu: Gear Girl

More mod fashion from Angela Yu Chien, this time from the August 1967 issue of Hong Kong Movie News.

Since when did girls start to paint lovely little things on their skin? It is surely the greatest discovery since Mary Quant's miniskirt and Sasoon's famous haircut. Angela Yu Chien does not wear a Sasoon haircut, but she wears a miniskirt and paints lovely little things on her skin. In short, she looks like a typical gear girl that one meets in London. As she walks, the dazzling eye on her arm seems to be staring at you and the lips in front seem to be saying "hallo!".

Click here for a scan of the original article.

Soft Film Video Jukebox: Mavis Fan

The first time I came across Taiwanese singer Mavis Fan was opposite Jacky Cheung in The Private Eye Blues (1994), where she played a hyperactive teenage girl with paranormal powers on the run in Hong Kong from mainland China's Communist government. It was only much later that I found out about Mavis's music at My Randomness (a wonderful, but sadly defunct, blog about alternative Asian pop) and instantly fell in love with her quirky personality and eclectic style.

From cute-as-a-button bubblegum pop star to tattooed indie rock diva, Mavis is in constant transformation and always full of surprises. To learn — and hear — more about her unique musical career, check out this webcast from China Radio International's "China Beat" program. And take a peek too at her super cool website.

The following song "Why? Oh! Why?" comes from her 2004 album Is There Another Way? The video — candy-colored and psychedelic-lite, featuring an all-Mavis band — pretty much captures everything I like about the enchanting Miss Fan.

The Wild, Wild Rose Chan

A couple of weeks ago, there was an article featured on the HKMDB Daily News about Singaporean director Eric Khoo's film project about the life of legendary burlesque performer Rose Chan. Evidently, he is having a difficult time finding the right actress to play the role. According to Eric, the actress should have "the sultry lips of Shu Qi, the voluptuous figure of Fiona Xie, the height of Beatrice Chia, and the poise and complexion of Gong Li. Hopefully, she can also act like Maggie Cheung and can tell jokes like Irene Ang." And furthermore, according to another article from last year, the candidate must speak both Mandarin and Cantonese and be comfortable with nudity and snake handling!

That seems like a pretty tall order, but then again Rose Chan was a pretty extraordinary individual. You can read more about her life at Wikipedia. And here is a medley of amusing news items about Rose that I found in the American press, supplemented by some photos that I downloaded from eBay.

ARTY

Dancer Rose Chan writhes in a snake "costume" that has stirred up a furor in Penang, Malaya. Her costume is mostly grease paint striped over her body, which is clothed only in a Bikini bathing suit. The Malayan government has been asked to ban her costume and sexy dance, which Rose claims is "art" copied from dances in U.S. movies. She's five feet, five inches tall and measures 36-24-36½.

—The Frederick Post, November 7, 1955

STRIP TEASER VICTIM OF LOW-DOWN THIEF

PENANG, North Malaya — Chinese strip teaser Rose Chan said the audience that clamored for a better view of her figure Monday night included at least one cad.

She told police she removed the top half of her scanty, two-piece costume in response to popular demand but said someone promptly stole it.

—The Provo Daily Herald, November 15, 1955

Entertainer Ordered Not to Use Pythons

ALOR STAR, North Malaya, Dec. 26 — Kedah state police ordered buxom stripper Rose Chan Wednesday to stop wrestling with pythons in her night club act.

One of her 21-foot pets coiled itself around her body three days ago and caused her to become unconscious. It took brawny stagehands five minutes to free her.

—The Waco News-Tribune, December 27, 1956

Malaya Stripper Insures 'Assets'

SINGAPORE — Malaya's pioneer strip tease artist, Rose Chan, said today she has insured her curves for 100,000 Malayan dollars ($33,000).

The buxom stripper took out an insurance policy in preparation for her trip to Paris in May to compete in the international "Miss Strip Tease" contest.

—The Hayward Daily Review, March 29, 1957

BARE LESSONS

KUALA LUMPUR — Miss Rose Chan, Malaya's best known strip teaser, will soon be going to Japan to make a film on strip shows.

She said negotiations are now under way for making of the film in which she will appear with three other girls of her striptease troupe.

"I have trained all these girls in the art of undressing in public," she said pointing to them. "Before they came to me they did not even know how to move gracefully."

—Burlington Daily Times-News, May 22, 1957

PEEP SHOW GETS PERMIT

IPOH, Malaya — The Rose Chan striptease show has permission to perform here, thanks to Dr. W. Holmes, acting head of the town council. Issuing the permit, he told the council: "There is a tendency in every male to be something of a Peeping Tom. It is perhaps better this way (the striptease show) than to have people peep into your bedrooms at night."

—The Waco News-Tribune, March 14, 1959

Fast Action, Super Feats, and Superficial Sex

I came across this interesting article from the Far Eastern Economic Review (January 23, 1969) when I was googling for information about Angela Yu Chien. It's a fascinating snapshot of Shaw Brothers' "new wuxia century", the effect that this marketing offensive had on the Chinese movie industry, and the reactions that were generated by the films' increasingly explicit portrayals of sex and violence. When the article mentioned Shaw Brothers' pandering to "Hongkong audiences' lust for fast action, super-feats and superficial sex", I couldn't help think of the studio's output during the 1970s, which pretty much consisted of that very same formula. Gone were the melodramas and musicals which reigned during the better part of the 60s. A new era of Hong Kong cinema had dawned.

A Time for Swordplay
By Elizabeth Yung

Hongkong is the home of the most voracious cinemagoers in the world but it is hardly the genius of local or foreign producers which has made them that way. In fact the recipe is frighteningly simple — just serve up lashings of gory violence and nearly half of Hongkong's near 4-million population will set the box office clicking each week. And the craving of Hongkong audiences for these ingredients is being amply satiated by the region's two main Chinese film-makers, Shaw Brothers and the Cathay Organisation.

"We are not complaining," said Shaw's Run Run Shaw recently when asked the state of the Hongkong film industry. His quote will almost certainly prove the understatement of the year. The picture, however, for Hongkong's cinema proprietors is not quite as bright. Still dreaming of the boom years of the early 1960s, cinema owners ruefully reported recently that takings last year were down to HK$150 million, a 20% drop over 1967. The blame was placed squarely on television which presents Chinese films every day.

Hardest hit were Cantonese and the more sophisticated, non-dramatic Western films. However the Mandarin swordplay epic is riding an unprecedented wave of success. Of the top 20 box-draws of 1968, 10 were Mandarin. Raymond Chow, production manager of Shaw's, explains: "Moviegoers are changing their taste. The Mandarin productions give them thrills and entertainment."

Already film fans have been treated to a series of action-packed swordplay sagas, and Shaw's, Southeast Asia's biggest film-maker, has demonstrated its confidence by announcing a production target of 52 films for 1969. Shaw's has averaged 41 films a year for the past three years. Its nearest rival, Singapore's Cathay, is hoping to improve on last year's figure of 22.

The buoyancy of Hongkong cinema can be easily gauged by the Government's takings over recent years. Entertainment tax from distributors and cinema owners in 1965 totalled $24.2 million, the following year $26.6 million. Box office sales in 1967 indicated that Shaw Brothers raked in a record gross receipt of $19 million and by November last year the 1968 figure had passed $20 million. Most frequent patrons of the Colony's 102 licensed cinemas are the 16-20 year-olds, young white collar workers, dating couples, all youngsters in a city with little else to offer them at prices they can pay.

Hongkong cinema is among the cheapest in the world. Three dollars fifty cents will buy the best seats in a first-run theatre. It costs twice as much in Japan and almost four times as much in the United States.

It becomes even more clear why Run Run Shaw is "not complaining" when it is noted that after their Hongkong runs, Shaw films then go to Taiwan, Singapore, Malaysia, the Philippines, Thailand, Cambodia and North America.

The magnetism of the Mandarin movie intensified in 1966 [it was actually 1967] with Shaw Brothers production of "The One Armed Swordsman", Hongkong's answer to Japan's "Blind Swordsman" hero, Katze. With young Wang Yu playing the lead, "The One Armed Swordsman" was an overnight success and reaped a Hongkong record of just over $1 million. Since then swordplay films have flowed at a fast clip with the blood keeping pace. Sketchy plots of family revenge have the scene for as gory a series of shots as have ever graced the celluloid. Audiences have flocked to "The Assassin" ($1.2 million), the "Sword of Swords" ($970,000), and the biggest hit of all, "Dragon Inn", a Taiwan production with a cast of unknowns. Directed by King Hu, it grossed $2.3 million, just $70,000 short of the Hongkong all-time record set by Julie Andrew's "Sound of Music".


Wang Yu picks his way through scores of corpses after a duel scene in the "Golden Swallow", described by a New York writer as "one of the bloodiest films ever released".

"Give them what they want" is the motto of Shaw's, Cathay and lesser studios, and, although the swordplay appears to be on the wane, Hongkong audiences' lust for fast action, super-feats and superficial sex is as strong as ever. Studios know they are catering mainly for an audience whose educational level is low, whose desire is not so much for appreciation but for relaxation and a trip into the land of fantasy, legendary heroism and suicidal courage.

While the James Bond epics are no longer regarded as big money-makers in the Western world, they are still assured capacity houses for weeks on end in Hongkong. Sean Connery's last outing as Agent 007 in "You Only Live Twice" was the only Western production to top a million dollars in the Colony last year. Italian shoot-'em-up "The Good, Bad and the Ugly", a western in which only the audience survived, was close on its heels. Multi-million-dollar musical, "Doctor Doolittle", did next to nothing — a paltry $370,000 worth — while another lavish Western musical, "The Star", lost its shine after two days.

There's no doubt that Hongkong's movie-makers are accurately tuned to the demands of the public and, but for the censor's eyes, would satisfy the most extreme demands of the apparent bloodlust of Hongkong's generally placid population. However, while local film-makers appear to set no limit on the violence gimmick, they are aware that when it comes to "morals" they are catering for a more reserved community.

Five Chinese officers in the Hongkong Government Information Services wield the censorship scissors. Basing their judgement on content, audience reaction, and religious, moral and political considerations, they ask themselves: Is there any reason why this film should not be seen int its entirety? More specifically the films should NOT: encourage public disorder; offend allies and friends of Hongkong (and, in the recent case of the US production of "The Chairman", touchy neighbours); show disrespect for the law, social institutions or head of state; encourage crime. Secretary to the Censorship Board is GIS Director, Nigel Watt, who considers the Board's policy "liberal", claiming that "artistic and moral cuts are few". Some local producers are not so sure, having had some of their most thrilling sequences clipped because of their alleged extreme violence. But, an article, while approving the Board's liberalism, can be quote as supporting the "liberal" tag. A New York Weekly Review writer said of Shaw's big hit, "The Golden Swallow": "The nauseating degree of violence and bloodshed in this film recommends it only for sadistic, exploitation situations... One of the bloodiest films ever released." The West these days, it seems, shudders at the sight of blood but has few scruples about providing its own ever-increasingly permissive society with even the finer details of a bedtime entanglement. When, in the Taiwan Government's eyes, the swordplay era began to get out of hand, it introduced a measure governing censorship of such films: they were not to depict "limbs torn apart" or "the gushing of blood at the impact of weapons".

Shaw's has shown signs recently of combining "permissiveness" with swordplay but so far it has had little success. In "Death Valley", Shaw's made its first firm venture into more revealing bed and bath scenes (provoked probably by Terry Bourke's revelations in his marathon "Sampan"). The scenes are still in the film but the bath is now only a quick dip and the bout on the bed little more than 40 winks. Generally Nigel Watt appears justified in his description of the Censorship Board and the record for the year ending March 31, 1968, helps bear him out. Of 5,925 films submitted only 41 were rejected and 42 cut.


Yueh Hua casually stands by as Angela Yu Chien bathes in "Death Valley". Shaw's attempt to bring a little "permissiveness" into its productions was pruned by Hongkong's censors.

Hongkong's "golden years" of cinema began early this decade and, hopping on the the band-wagon, Shaw Brothers made its debut with two sound stages and only 200 staff. Today it has 10 stages, 1600 employees, a stable of horses, and the biggest and most lavish studio lot outside of Hollywood. At a fast clip, Run Run and his brother, Runme, have rung up eight successful years. They have a chain of 231 cinemas in Malaysia and Singapore, nine amusement parks and two other film studios, and have a production rate which puts Hongkong third in the world after India and Japan.

The rate at which films are turned out at Shaw's Clearwater Bay studio is little short of astounding. At any time of the year there are between 6 and 16 being shot at budgets which would make a Hollywood producer cry: a coloured Mandarin feature usually costs between $500,000 and $1 million, a Cantonese production about $300,000 (an average Hollywood film costs about $18 million). And films in Hongkong are started and finished in about the time it takes Liz Taylor to throw a tantrum. A director, even at the top of the local tree, earns only about $40,000 a film and, by using "unknowns" galore working 10 hours a day, every day, under light temperatures soaring over 100F degrees, and by hiring "known" actors and actresses on year-long contracts rarely exceeding $200,000, there is plenty left in the budget for stage sets and location work.

Shaw Brothers recently completed its own $3 million four-storey colour laboratory with a processing capacity of 750 feet a second. Now, instead of sending all colour film for processing in Japan, Shaw's can do it on the spot, much more quickly and far cheaper. Now, with the Far East (particularly Southeast Asia) sewn up, Shaw's is looking further afield for markets for its productions. It has built a theatre in Honolulu and has leased theatres in New York, Los Angeles and Vancouver to cater to the substantial Chinese communities in those areas.

Early in the Shaw story, the Cathay Organisation (formerly Motion Picture and General Investment Company) was a strong rival. But in 1964, with the death of its top man, Dato Loke Wan Tho, in a Taiwan plane crash, the challenge fell away. Cathay lost several top producers, some to rival studios, others trying to "go it alone". But recently Cathay has been showing signs of hitting the comeback trail. Early last year there were rumours that Shaw's and Cathay were about to become one. But this, apparently, was the last thought in the minds of Cathay directors. In a spate of hiring, Cathay signed up new directors and script writers and recruited a squad of youngsters (stars of tomorrow?) from Taiwan. The first major blow in Cathay's revival came with "The First Sword", released in late 1967. And in 1969 Cathay has set its sights on a target of 30 films, eight more than last year.

In addition to the giants, there are six small independent companies in Hongkong producing Cantonese films and more than 50 similar organisations making local and other Asian films. Film-makers can look forward with confidence for orders for their products. With the Hongkong and Kowloon Theatres Association president, Chiang Oi-man, predicting further falls in box-office takings over the next few years, cinema owners are sure to plump for the type of movie still regarded as a certain money-maker — the Mandarin production especially — rather than the more sophisticated and widely-hailed productions from the West. If it's violence Hongkong's cinemagoers want, that's what they'll get. You might call the makers' earnings "blood money".

Before She Was a Vamp: Sweet Angela Yu

Wow... Angela Yu Chien sure was a sweetie before her tenure as Shaw Brothers sexpot.

My first encounter with the sexy Angela was in her role as the nymphomaniac rich girl in the 1969 melodrama Torrent of Desire, a Hong Kong version of Douglas Sirk's Written on the Wind. Boy, did she burn up the screen in that film! As Oldflames so nicely phrased it, Angela was part of Shaw Brothers' "Bombshell Trinity" (along with Fanny Fan and Tina Chin Fei) during the late sixties. Although she was often cast in small roles as the sexy other woman, Angela always made an impression much bigger than the screen time allotted to her.

It came as a slight surprise to me when I discovered the sweet, pre-sexy Angela. One of her very first supporting roles was Betty Loh Tih's soft-spoken secretary in The Dancing Millionairess (1964). Angela was as sweet and gentle as the pastel yellow cardigan she wears in the film. Her next major role was backing up Lin Dai in The Blue and the Black. The film was scheduled for a 1964 release but was left unfinished by Lin Dai's death that July. It was finally completed and released in 1966, and the following year Angela received a much belated Best Supporting Actress award at Taiwan's 5th Golden Horse Awards. That should have propelled her into the top tier of Shaw actresses. But it was too late: by then Angela was already playing a sexy, man-eating spider demon in Cave of the Silken Web (1967) and dancing wildly, dressed in a fishnet bodystocking, in King Drummer (1967).

Somehow, Angela had been fast-tracked into becoming one of Shaw's resident sex bombs. She was clearly capable of other roles, but let's be honest — not every actress can play the bad girl. Angela was simply the best qualified candidate for the position. Can you imagine any of Shaw's other stars performing this role? Li Ching... too cute. Cheng Pei-pei... too wholesome, when she isn't scowling. Chin Ping... come on, the girl can't even crack a smile. Ivy Ling Po... don't make me laugh!

While I'm sure that being typecast is disappointing to an actor, perhaps Angela relished the uninhibited expressiveness afforded by her sexy roles. If the characterization of her as a naughty tomboy from the following interview in Southern Screen No. 78 (August, 1964) is true, then she probably would have felt constricted by the burden of being a jade girl. (The recent tribulation of Gillian Chung is proof that playing the jade girl is not without its pitfalls, even in the 21st century.)

"Cover Girl" Angela Makes Good

Few people know that before she joined Shaw Studio two years ago, Angela Yu Chien was a "cover girl". Her sweet, dimpled face adorned the cover of a popular women's magazine in Hong Kong.

A native of Tientsin, Angela was born to a large family. Though she has grown up into an enchanting young lady, she was considered by her mother a tomboy and one of the naughtiest of her children.

While studying in Taiwan, she decided to make acting her career and enrolled in the Shaw-operated Southern Drama Group in Hong Kong, from which she graduated with flying colours.

Since then, she has appeared in a number of Shaw productions, including "The Dancing Millionairess" and "The Story of Sue San".

Recently she guest-starred in a German-Swiss film called "A Melody of Hong Kong", playing an enchanting Oriental girl.

You can download a PDF (604 KB) of the original article here. As you can see from the photos, Angela is no less sexy for being sweet.