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LUCY FRIEDLAND, (excerpts from) Journey Into The East - An Ongoing Travel Journal By Lucy Friedland, online
Part 3 -- Lotus hands
I only spent a couple of days in Chengdu, but I enjoyed spending time with Ong. When I told her of my fascination with Beijing opera, she asked if I had seen the movie "Farewell My Concubine." Just so happens that this movie provided the inspiration for me to go to China in the first place. It could be my very favorite movie. It won the Palm d'Or at Cannes [the annual international film festival in France] in 1993. For those of you who don't know the film, it's directed by Chen Kaige and explores the intersection of love, art and politics, in the context of 50 years of Chinese history (from the 1920s-1970s, I think). It's about two boys who are rigorously trained at opera school at an early age and go on to become Beijing's most respected stars. The one played by my hearthrob, the famous Hong Kong actor Leslie Cheung, cross-dresses for the female role of the concubine and the other guy (don't know the actor's name) plays the king. In the 1920s only men were permitted to enter the opera.
Many people in China have seen the movie even though it was extremely controversial. It was one of the first Chinese films to address the theme of homosexuality, which according to government propaganda is only a "foreign problem" and does not exist in China. The Leslie Cheung character carries a lifelong torch for his operatic co-star, a love which is unrequited, because offstage the guy marries a (female) prostitute, played by Gong Li, another famous Hong Kong actor. Hao [my buddy in Xi'An] had told me that he thought the film was famous only because it covered an "unusual" theme, and that Kaige is really a hack director. Ong told me that she loved the movie and saw it twice.
Plus, she told me the dish on Leslie Cheung: He used to be China's number one pop singer some years back, before he started acting in John Woo action pictures and other movies. She told me I could still buy his recordings in the stores. But the best part is that he recently came out [as gay] and introduced his "girlfriend" to the public. I asked her whether that had diminished his popularity, either as a pop singer or as an actor. She said she didn't think so. She said that he was finding it more difficult to get recording contracts since he was asking for too much money. Younger, hungrier singers who work for less pay have come along to take his place. (He's about 40 now.) The last movie I saw him in was "Happy Together," directed by Wong Ka Wei, which was about two Hong Kong men who unsuccessfully try to transplant themselves and their relationship in Buenos Aires.
So, it was Leslie Cheung who began my love affair with Beijing opera, and now I was taking it on the road.
Part 5 -- Cixi and me
Coda:
The Leslie Cheung mythology grows. You remember Leslie Cheung? The Hong Kong
actor and pop star I have my eye on? Now I hear that another Hong Kong pop star,
Danny Chen, wrote achingly beautiful love songs inspired by Leslie. After much
suffering, Danny died about eight years ago. When I asked my source--an
accountant named Chen Feng--whether AIDS was the cause of death, Chen Feng
looked at me aghast and said,
"No, only his doctor knows the exact illness. It's generally understood that Danny Chen died of his unrequited love for Leslie Cheung."
Part 6 -- Hong Kong
I was reading a trashy book called "Hong Kong Babylon," published in 1997, that contains interviews with Hong Kong film directors and actors. Leslie Cheung is one of the interviewees. [I wrote about Leslie Cheung in my last two installments--a pretty boy pop-singer, turned actor. He shone in "Farewell My Concubine," the movie that awoke my interest in China and my love for Chinese opera.] In this interview, Leslie is at his bitchiest, saying that Chow Yun Fat is all washed up. He says now that Chow is in his early 40s, his best years are behind him. Plus, Leslie says, Chow is getting fat. The interviewer asks Leslie why he hasn't worked in Hollywood roles as his colleague has. Leslie says he's content to be famous in Asia and doesn't need international stardom. Sounds like sour grapes to me.