 |
 |
|
||||
          
COVER STORY:
Brain Drain: |
ASIA | January 26, 1998 VOL. 151 NO. 3 |
|---|---|---|
The actor spent hours with screenwriter Ken Sanzel, who streamlined the assassin's verbiage to make him closer to the soulful killers of the Woo and Lam films. Says Matthew Baer of Brillstein-Grey, the management and production firm that produced the movie: "We set out to develop Yun-fat's screen persona along the lines of Clint Eastwood--a guy who can be expressive with just a look. Yun-fat has that same amazing ability to express himself without saying anything, and it worked well for his first English film." Still, it was an ordeal. "It's difficult for me," Chow says, "because I have to take care of the language, the tone and my facial expression at the same time. I kept on speaking 'my condolences' in a berserk way--it took them ages to have me fixed." These are his first words in the film, and they still come out as a slurry, if genial, "My condorences." After that, Chow relaxes and the international moviegoer's ear becomes attuned to the forceful music of his delivery--and the ferocious silence of his stare. He flashes it in the film's first scene. John Lee strides into a bustling disco and, without a word, kills four people. Before one murder, he executes the flourish of a full twist--he's the Fred Astaire, the Brian Boitano of carnage. He and Sorvino have no special chemistry, but their roles are adversarial. Anyway, subtle characterization is not needed. The plot and dialogue are rest stops between the imposingly violent production numbers. Fuqua's background in videos and love of Hong Kong melodrama blend to create a style you might call HK-MTV. He keeps up its pulse and body count while aping famous Woo motifs: low-angle shots, the devout fetishizing of artillery, even a variation of the basic plot of Woo's 1997 hit Face/Off. There, a killer shoots a cop's son; here, John Lee doesn't have the heart to do it. Because he does have a heart. Because he's Chow. Fuqua, who first saw the actor "floating through the room in a beautiful Armani suit" at a 1996 Oliver Stone party, admires the dialogue scenes in Chow's old films. "But he's at his best when he's silent and deadly." Chow was grateful for the direction. "Antoine was very encouraging," he says. "He asked me not to care too much about the language, just keep the expression. Yet, there's still time when you find yourself trapped in a language which is not your own." To practice, he would phone Fuqua at 3 a.m. and talk about word usage. Says the director, "He told me his favorite English term was 'thank you for your hospitality.'"
| ||
time-webmaster@pathfinder.com |
||