On Par with International Screen Legends - Tony Leung
From Hong Kong Panorama 2000-2001
With almost fifty loading roles under his belt, Tony Leung appears at the
apex of his career winning the coveted Best Actor Award at the 53 Cannes Film
Festival, playing opposite Maggie Cheung in Wong Kar-wai's In the Mood for
Love (2000). This accolade elevates him on a par with such international screen
legends as Gerard Deparoieu, Marcello Mastroianni, Fernando Rey, Marlon Brando,
and Jack Lemmon.
Although Tony's sensitive and minimalist style of performance deserves to be
internationally recognized in In the Mood for Love, it is his earlier works for
the small screen that command attention. Indeed, his very first major role as
Tong Chun-yip's younger brother in the drama series "Xiangcheng Langzi"
(1982) already augured a promising future for the then twenty-year-old rookie
television actor. Playing an introverted, bashful, and melancholic university
student, Tony exuded a brittle vulnerability unparalleled amongst his peers. He
went on to appear in six more standard soap operas, often typecast as a
wholesome lad from next door before landing his role of a lifetime in "Lu
Ding Ji" in 1984. At once cunning, self-serving, prankish and charming, his
lively incarnation of Louis Cha's most infamous anti-hero Wei Xiaobao was a
watershed from his previous roles. His new persona quickly captivated many avid
television viewer and catapulted him to superstardom.
On television, Tony Leung became a star who often performed like a character
actor. His reputation was further enhanced by his finely tuned portrayal of a
rookie cop with a heart of gold in the "Xinzha Snixiong trilogy (Police Cadet
Triology 1984, 1985,
1988)". It was during this period that Tony started to dabble in acting roles in
the cinema, playing second fiddle to more established movie stars like Chow Yun-fat
and Kenny Bee.
Paying an ordinary man embroiled in a murder case in Stanley Kwan's Love
Unto Waste (1986), Tony's performance had an impressive emotional range.
Different characters tended to draw out distinct reactions from him in this
film. His interactions with the two female leads, Chow Sau-lan and Irene Wan,
are a tad rigid and maladroit despite their apparent intimacy. There is no real
sparkle among them. Surprisingly enough, it is the more mature Tsai Chin and
Elaine Jin who elicit depths of emotion from Tony. His reaction to Chow Yun-fat
during the interrogation scene is also most memorable a look replete with
distaste, impatience, hostility, and eventually anger. Although his performance
was uneven, we can still witness a television idol striving to lose himself in
an unlikable character on the silver screen.
In 1987, delving into his vulnerable psyche from the days of "Xiangcheng
Langzi" and polishing it with his already well-honed, nonpareil wide-eyed
intensity, Tony Leung turned in a crowd pleasing performance in Derek Yee's
People's Hero, deservedly winning Best Supporting Actor at the Hong Kong Film
Awards. In 1988, he played another supporting role as a reporter opposite Sally
Yeh in I Love Maria. His over-the-board acting style is very consistent
throughout and is befitting to this inane slapstick comedy. The character he
rendered here bears little resemblance to the Wei Xiabao persona he first
created in "Lu Ding Ji" and then regurgitated in the swashbuckling TV drama "Juedai
Shuangjiao"(1988). He managed to deliver a wholly
innovative performance even as he stayed within the confines of the familiar.
This reporter's two endearing personal traits naivete and benevolence
were later transferred to and finessed n another award-winning role in My
Heart Is That Eternal Rose (1989) He settled into this supporting role
swimmingly, without much self-consciousness. His deference and concern towards
Kwan Hoishan; the trepidation, anguish, and self-sacrifice he embodies while
attempting to rescue Joey Wang from Chen Wei-Min; and the way his eyes lighten
up after he massacred people with a machine gun all these were maestoso work
of an actor as a minimalist artist. The only fly in the ointment, however, was
his inability to play convincingly without a character to react to. When he
realized while talking to Chen Wei-Min on the phone that his grandmother is held
in thrall, the anxiety he oozes out is facile and artificial.
By 1989, he has already evolved two diametrically opposite but equally
successful personae on screen. On the one hand he was righteous, affable, and
susceptible to deep sadness; on the other, he was happy-go-lucky, exploitative,
and almost devoid of scruples. These dual personae also entailed dual acting
styles. He was candid and naturalistic in his dramatic mode, but mannered and
formulaic when adopting the Wei Xiaobao persona. His performance in dramatic
roles had little to do with she corporeal but was focused primarily on his
facial expressions, especially his eyes. However, he became more at home with
exterior body movements when conveying the comedic, farcical elements of his
characters in the opposite mode. Even his voice assumed a different pitch when
he switched between modes: more baritone and velvety in so-called serious roles
but shrill and even cacophonous in the other mode.
This facile split-personality syndrome proved to be the bane of his guest to
become a character actor on the silver screen. Far from helping to hone his
acting skills, the fact that he starred in an astounding 27 films within the
short period from 1989 to 1993 only worsened this syndrome. A change of roles
soon became simply a switch of acting styles. Instead of dissolving himself in
his characters, he tended to manifest his well-nurtured star personae through
his characters. Being a leading star also meant that he could not afford to take
too much risk in selecting his scripts, with the atrocious consequence that his
characters were most often cardboard clones of either of his dual personae.
Playing the deaf and dumb photographer in Hou Hsiao-hsien's masterpiece
City of Sadness (1989) was undoubtedly an invaluable asset to his acting
credentials, but his performance was too deliberate and self-conscious. Instead
of playing his character in his usual introverted manner, he often mustered too
many superfluous expressions in his face, which would only befit someone whose
power of speech was recently incapacitated, but not a person who had been dumb
since he was five. Tony was also very weak in his smiles, which often came
across as affected. In the reunion scene between his brother and him in the
forest, the happiness in his face is anything but genuine. Only after his
character is imprisoned does his performance start to sparkle. His quiet
sadness, his centripetal cowering in desperation, and the way he looked into the
distance with despondent abandonment are all archetypical Tony Leung signatures
played to awe-stricken perfection.
If Tony's acting was inadequately realized in City of Sadness, it was
blown to pieces in John Woo's Bullet in the Head (1990). His smiles remain
artificial, as if he cannot be totally at ease among his closest friends. Too
conscious that his trademark intense look could launch a thousand ships, he used
it on practically every one in the film. The surfeit of close-ups of this look
also suggests that the director could be an accomplice to this disaster. His
explosive emotions also backfired when he is asked by Vietnamese soldiers to
shoot Jacky Cheung. The supposed coalescence of sadness and fear and
helplessness becomes a welter of incongruent mess. His confrontation with Waise
Lee at the closing scene is also a paradigm of overacting. Again, only during
taciturn moments does his sad look strike a cord. When he decides to shoot the
then vacuous Jacky Cheung to ease him out of his miseries, the pathos in his
eyes is genuine.
Although Tony only enigmatically appeared ,in the last scene of Wong Kar-wai's
groundbreaking Days of Being Wild (1990), playing a dandy meticulously preening
himself for a night out, this abbreviated scene actually marked another turning
point in his career. His acting capability could not have improved as a result,
but it did add another trademark to his star persona ˇX a cigarette hanging
loosely on the side of his mouth, between his lips, on the verge of falling out.
He must have found this look so irresistibly cool and sexy that he replicated it
as often as he could in his films, including Hard Boiled (1992), He Ain't
Heavy, He's My Father (1993), Cyclo (1995), Dr. Mack (1995), War of the
Underworld (1996), to name but a few. This further illustrates how often he
intentionally projects his own persona into his characters rather than letting
the latter mob his on-screen persona.
The year 1991 saw the nadir of Tony's career as a character actor if not a
movie star. The plethora of films he did were pathetic rehashes of his two modes
of acting. Tsui Hark's Chinese Ghost Story, Part III (1991) was a notable
exception. No doubt he still repaired to his Wei Xiaobao mode in this film, but
his comedic performance was consistently good. This film could also be the last
film with any vestiges of his pristine naivete on screen. In Days of Being Dumb
(1992), his mannered performance was along the same style. Nonetheless, his
excellent rapport with co-star Jacky Cheung and his apropos decision to give
full rein to his farcical potentials conjured up a hilariously entertaining fare
for all.
In Hard-Boiled (1992), Tony Leung appeared in yet another John Woo action
bonanza, this time treading the thin line between good and evil as an undercover
cop. He was more than adequate playing a melancholic loner, but seeing him strut
his stuff in the library playing cool and put on a pair of sunglasses playing an
underworld big bro was downright unbearable. Had he been a more physical actor
like his co-star Chow Yun-fat, he might have overcome this awkwardness; too bad
he relied too much on his facial expressions, which were overblown again with
too many uncalled-for grins and frowns and intense gazes. His acting certainly
improved a great deal at the final showdown in the hospital; but his merits were
unfortunately overshadowed by Chow's consummate performance, both physically
and emotionally.
While continuing to switch between acting modes playing cardboard characters
in despicable low-budget flicks, Tony began to cry out a new performance style
when appearing in comedies produced by UFO. In Tom, Dick & Hairy (1993), he
did away with any remnants of his Wei Xiaobao mode of acting and resorted to his
normal dramatic mode even though this film was not much different from the other
comedies he had played in thus far. Although he remained uncannily incapable of
giving a sincere smile while bantering with his buddies, a bigger range of
expressions were discernible in this film. Tom, Dick & Hairy also witnessed
finally some believable romantic chemistry between Tony and his female co-star,
Ann Bridgewater in this case. Although there was nothing spectacular about his
acting in this film per se, it was a little personal breakthrough for Tony as an
actor nonetheless.
He Ain't Heavy, He's My Father (1993) was released after Tom, Dick
& Hairy, but Tony's acting style in it somehow predated Tom. Before the
critical time-travel in the story, Tony's performance was similar to that in
Love Unto Waste: pensive and often melancholic, his brows slightly locked but
not yet frowning. Once his character has moved back in time, his acting style
was suddenly switched to the Wei Xiaobao mode. Throughout the picture, Tony as
an actor seemed to be struggling between the two poles of his personae, striving
to converge the two but without noticeable success. His romantic link with Anita
Yuen was quite natural, although it was Tony Leung Kar-fai that he was totally
in sync with. After half a decade of merely switching between modes of acting,
without evident growth in the craft itself, Tony Leung finally managed to burst
through this cul-de-sac playing a jilted cop in Wong Kar-wai's Chungking
Express in 1994. If the most important thing in acting is honesty, as George
Burns has aptly put it, Tony has made it big time in this charming tale. There
are no calculated intense gazes, no Wei Xiaobao mannerisms, no cigarettes
hanging on the side of his lips, no inexplicable sadness. What Tony delivered
was naked sincerity. He had dissolved his identity totally into his character's
own persona. His smiles were genuine and sweet, his look complacent and kind.
Every emotion radiated from within his heart. In the filmˇ¦s last scene, when
the equally stunning Faye Wong comes back to the fast food restaurant currently
owned by Tony, his look at her was brimmed with loving care. Chungking Express
was an epiphany in Tony's acting career From this moment on, he was on the
right track once again.
Stylistically and formally divergent from Chungking Express, Ashes of Time
(1994) was the second Wong Kar-wai work Tony appeared in within the same year.
Playing a purblind swordsman, Tony turned in another groundbreaking performance
as an ultra-cool tragic hero. His acting vas subdued, with no eruptions of
emotions, but he still managed to personify sadness itself. What he failed in
City of Sadness and the two John Woo movies, he made them up with a vengeance
here. In Tran An Hung's Cyclo (1995), Tony played a taciturn and contradictory
poet, capable of violence and extreme evil but generally preferring to stand
back from life. This character was a direct descendent of "Xiangcheng Langzi" and Ashes of Time. He was very much to himself,
refraining from looking at others while talking to them. His shifty eyes owed
more to shyness than cunning. His centripetal body gestures harked back to the actor's finest moments in City of Sadness. This was another bravura of a
performance his best so far.
His performances in the other films around this time were generally competent
but without luster. The Returning (1994) was a thriller riddled with flaws, but
he played his part as naturally as he did in Chungking Express, and was very
generous and confident with his newly attained natural smiles. In Dr Mack (1995)
and Heaven Can't Wait (1995), his performances were more akin to that in Tom,
Dick & Hairy, and he was able to worm into his characters easily. The two
films starring him in 1996 Blind Romance and War of the Underworld were
equally shallow foolishness, requiring no acting whatsoever from any of their
cast, let alone Tony Leung. In 1997, again in another Wong Kar-wai movie Happy
Together, Tony Leung delivered an impeccable performance by laying bare his most
vulnerable innermost emotions on screen. He practically lost himself in the
opening sex scene with Leslie Cheung. After orgasm, his look is one of release
and tenderness; he squeezes Leslie tight, overthrowing with love, trying
desperately to hold on to the very moment forever. Never in any of his previous
films did he exhibit such raw and authentic physical or emotional attachment.
The way he hit the mirror in a later scene is equally electrifying,
demonstrating insufferable pent-up bitterness and grievances within his
character. Every glance or gesture he made was honest and real. Whether he is
reprimanding Leslie or hugging him when he barges into his room covered with
blood, his love for him is profound. When Chang Chen asks him to record his
unhappiness on his walkman, he looks at the walkman, fiddling with it, picks it
up as if to record something, then tears start to fill his eyes. He controls
himself, takes the walkman down, but unhappiness has utterly overwhelmed him. He
picks up the walkman again to hide his face.... This outburst of emotions is the
best that you could get from top- notched actors anywhere. With this film, Tony
Leung has climbed up to the rank of the finest thespians in the world.
In the wake of Happy Together, Tony certainly knew how to fully exploit his
talents. But that does not mean he has become invincible. After all, he needed
to always put his heart to it. In 1997 Happy Go Places (1997) and Chinese
Midnight Express (1997), his acting was at best perfunctory and formulaic, even
though he was better controlled than before. In Longest Night (1997), he built
upon his experience in Cyclo and Ashes of Time, and delivered his most
cold-bloodedly violent sequence to date. Timeless Romance (1998) could have been
unjustly spurned by the public, but it really had little to offer Tony as far as
acting is concerned. Flowers of Shanghai (1998) might be a paragon of beauty,
but Tony's role in it is the subdued to be noticeable. Even when he bursts
out in anger the lighting is too dark for audience to even see hrs face, let
alone to appreciate his acting.
Since Tony spent almost two years working on In the Mood For Love, the
performances he churned out in the several films during this period Your
Place or Mine (1998), Gorgeous (1999), and Tokyo Raiders (2000) were
understandably weak and insubstantial. He certainly did a great job in In the
Mood for Love, but the character he played did not in effect afford him enough
space and scope to manifest his talents no the full. Even if he had played this
character to perfection, his acting in Happy Together and Cyclo could still have
dwarfed his performance. To best his maverick results in these films is not an
easy tasks he would need all the best combination of script, director, and
co-stars to attain this goal. Healing Hearts (2000) is not it. Let's
patiently wait and see.
Frederick Tsui Graduated from Harvard University, he has been a TV programmer
before joining PCCW as content strategy programmer. A freelance film critic.