Meeting Ning Hao

Ning Hao leans back in his seat, arms folded, waiting and watching, his legs stretched out. Notebooks and pens are hurriedly fumbled for, found and laid out; a slim recording machine is positioned next to him; a small camera placed gingerly on the table in front. He eyes the fuss with an air of dissatisfaction and, as the interview begins, answers questions with sighs, as if there are a million more interesting things in the world to be getting on with.

With short, stubby hair, rounded features and dressed casually in black t-shirt, jeans and trainers, Ning is younger than you would expect. But his quiet authority and replies to questions about his latest movie speak of a man used to being in control. Crazy Stone, the madcap misadventure of gangster desperados hunting a jade stone, was filmed in the mainland province of Chongqing in the Christmas season. The people there, he says, celebrate the festive period with deafening drum rolls, which were seriously disruptive to filming. After wrangling a bargain with them, the crowd agreed to be silent until Ning shouted “Cut!” At once the banging would restart and continue relentlessly until the next scene. Warming to his subject, he laughs as he recounts the experience, his face finally breaking open to reveal a dancing glint in his eyes.

Faces are important to Ning, and he seems to scrutinise each one coming into his line of sight – including this writer’s. So it’s no surprise he based casting decisions for Crazy Stone on faces. The features of the actors he chose are etched with lines of experience. “Crazy Stone has so many characters,” says Ning, “that if each were not distinctive, they would become lost in the story and confusing to an audience. I wanted the faces to be like a Chinese mask,” he says – “easily recognisable.”

He bypassed bigger names for a group of actors who were very experienced and hugely funny and then spent time with them discussing the look and feel of the film before shooting started. The result is a close-knit band of brothers oozing a charming blend of the seedy and mischievous, bumbling around the run-down streets of Chongqing. With its crackling, witty script and racing storyline, Crazy Stone has been received as a major triumph of Mainland Chinese movie-making.

But Ning shies from the praise, brushing it away with a roll of his eyes. It’s all a far cry from his humble roots in Shanxi, a town, he says, where everyone was the same: 100,000 workers, including his parents, all went to work at the same factory every day. TV, with its programmes from Hong Kong, was a delightful new discovery for Ning at the age of nine. He smiles. “TV, and jeans,” he says.

His father stirred Ning’s first artistic instincts with Chinese traditional painting, and later he enrolled on a photography course at the Beijing Film Academy. “I thought I could earn some money,” he recalls of the decision to study stills rather than movies, but all too soon extra film modules had him excited. “I got addicted,” he admits, now resigned. Steadily feeding the addiction ever since has paid off, with stunning results. His first film Tuesday/Wednesday won the Best Director award at Beijing University’s Student Film Festival; his debut feature won the grand prize at Tokyo Filmex in 2003; and Mongolian Ping Pong, was a festival circuit favourite.
“I am ordinary,” he proclaims when asked why his movies stand out. “No genius, no special flair.” Andy Lau might disagree. Recognising Ning’s talent, Lau approached him with an offer to executive produce Crazy Stone through his Focus First Cuts series which supports up and coming talent in the Asian region. With fellow scriptwriters Zhang Cheng and Yue Xioujun, Ning worked up and polished an idea, first thought of back in 2000, into a wisecracking, corkscrewing story.

The 45-day shoot in Chongqing was long by Chinese standards, but still a gruelling schedule filled with difficulties. “We had trouble with the gemstone, making it look real,” says Ning, who at first had his heart set on finding a genuine jade pendant. He had to settle for something made by a props man which turned out to be almost as expensive as the real McCoy. “He sensed we needed it quick,” says the director, explaining away the extortionate cost. Ning barely slept in shoots that lasted all day and long into the night. Smiling sheepishly, he acknowledges he definitely shot too many angles.

Crazy Stone, with its ragged, unkempt dirtiness, sits very uneasily with Ning’s previous film, Mongolian Ping Pong, a fairytale of a boy who finds a ping-pong ball out in his desert home in Mongolia and sets out to return ‘the treasure’ back to Beijing. Though softer and gently childlike, Ping Pong, like Crazy Stone, maintains a playfulness and true affection for its characters. “That film,” says Ning “is a mirror, a true reflection of Mongolian people but Crazy Stone is a distorted mirror, the characters are real but enlarged and exaggerated.” However, all are characters he recognises and is familiar with, somehow grounded, he explains, in his early life. But when asked if the playfulness and humour are part of his own personality, he stalls. “Somewhat playful,” he mutters.

Pressed on how he would describe himself, he reels off “Can’t speak English (his class were so mean to their English teacher she left), not tall, not handsome, sits at home a lot, must be a director.” After which comes silence. Extracting answers in the minutes remaining is like trying to prise pearls from a stubborn oyster shell; he watches movies from all over the world, but can’t say any one film has made an impression; he’s not sure where his ideas for stories come from or what inspires him; and he most definitely doesn’t want to be famous. Like an old engine, Ning shunts along when talking about his movies or memories. But when it comes to the personal, conversation putters and dies.

He has been approached for many new projects but nothing is firmly set. Yet it doesn’t appear to bother Ning; in fact, he is comfortable taking life day by day and mentions he is looking forward to some sleep, happy with the progress he is making. “I’m 29,” he reasons, “I have completed three films already.” Which is the closest he gets to admitting any kind of success.

United 93
Starring: Christian Clemenson,

Trish Gates, Polly Adams,
Cheyenne Jackson
Director: Paul Greengrass
Scheduled Release: August 31

The horrors of September 11, 2001, have been well documented. Seconds after American Airlines Flight 11 slammed into the World Trade Center’s north tower, our collective attentions fixed on the unthinkable scene. Hours stretched into days as we huddled around television sets questioning reality and wondering how such a thing could have happened on American soil.

Reconstructed, minute-by-minute accounts of that morning’s tragic events miraculously leave some facets hidden. In between the black box recordings, government-commissioned studies, and Internet conspiracy theories lie untold stories of courage and determination that are deeply rooted in the American spirit of retaliation and that countty’s inherent desire to fight back when pinned against a proverbial wall.

Paul Greengrass draws on both fact and speculation with
United 93, the writer/director’s nerve-wracking but deeply moving reconstruction of that dark day. His reality rotates around the air traffic controllers in New York, Boston, and Washington who were forced to deal with multiple hijackings in a frustratingly compressed time frame. Several of the actual controllers play themselves on screen, an inspired touch that adds appropriate realism.

Greengrass’ mild fiction applies to the actions taken onboard United Airlines Flight 93, which departed Newark International Airport bound for San Francisco on September 11. Midway through the trip, the plane was hijacked and turned toward Washington, D.C. Passengers who made calls to loved ones learned of similar abductions and subsequent attacks. Family members have reported that those onboard hatched a hasty plan to halt the obvious suicide mission.

What happened next remains a mystery. United 93 crashed in a Pennsylvania field 150 miles northwest of our nation’s capital, leaving no survivors. But Greengrass has convinced me that his film’s depiction is as close to what happened that day as we’ll ever know.

The final minutes of United 93 play out like the last possible minutes of the doomed aircraft. A unified retaliation is mounted against the captors. The passengers (wisely cast with unrecognizable actors) storm the cockpit, with graphic repercussions. Blood is spilled. The cockpit door is breached. We can see the ground approaching through the window. The screen goes black.

Is it too soon for this movie? That’s a personal question viewers must answer for themselves. Those willing to accept Greengrass’ version of history will be met by a balanced re-enactment that summons the fear and anger felt that day. United 93 carries with it the intense foreboding of an approaching storm. Our prior knowledge weighs like a brick placed on our chest, over our hearts. Sean O’Connell

Beyond The Sea
Starring: Kevin Spacey, Kate Bosworth, John Goodman,
Bob Hoskins, Brenda Blethyn
Director: Kevin Spacey
Scheduled Release: August 31

Three major Hollywood studios released musical biopics within a six-month time frame. If nothing else, Tinsletown’s newfound obsession with influential musicians demonstrates that studios are as attracted to good ideas as flies are to animal droppings. I can imagine executives chattering in their cluttered offices, scrambling to claim ideas before their competitors. “Hey, Universal is making a Ray Charles movie,” they might say. “That’s a really good idea. Quick, let’s do the same thing with another famous musician.”
While neither Ray nor De-Lovely are comparable to animal droppings (how could they be with Taylor Hackford and Irwin Winkler directing), a third helping of musical biopic has become somewhat indigestible. I can indulge in a biography of Ray Charles; I can stomach an exploration of Cole Porter; but after Beyond the Sea’s portrayal of yet another famous musician, I need some Tums. That’s not to say the film lacks artistic merit, this time, Bobby Darin (Kevin Spacey) is the musician in focus. He lived a successful — albeit complicated — life as a singer and actor until his death at the age 37… pretty decent considering he had a heart condition that was predicted to kill him as a teenager.
When his condition is diagnosed, the information devastates those who care for him, including his single mother (Brenda Blethyn), his older sister (Caroline Aaron), and her husband (Bob Hoskins). However, Bobby miraculously lives past his teenager years, and begins a journey to musical stardom. At age 20, his best friend and manager (John Goodman) lands him gigs at parties, clubs, and eventually, Vegas casinos. But Bobby won’t settle with meager success. He wants everyone — even the delivery guy — to know his name.
Finally, hits like Splish Splash and Mack the Knife place him in a position of what he considers true stardom. And he does indeed achieve true stardom. Throughout the '50s, '60s, and '70s, Bobby lands more hits in more genres of music than any singer besides Elvis Presley and Ray Charles. Now that’s fame.
As the film’s director and producer, Spacey had the power to cast just about anyone as Darin, but he cast himself. Let’s forget that Spacey is in his mid-forties and he’s playing, at times, a character in his twenties. Let’s focus, instead, on his talents. Spacey is a talented actor, and he has an Academy Award to prove it. But an actor only has himself to work with. As Darin, Spacey is stretching outside his performance range. Kudos to Spacey for challenging himself, and he does handle the character with energy, charisma, obvious fanaticism, and an appropriate demeanor. But he’s not a great singer. He’s not a great dancer. And, obviously, the role requires strong singing and dancing (with numerous "fantasy" musical sequences). How are we supposed to find ourselves involved in a movie about a legendary singer when the actor playing him can’t sing that well?
Surprisingly, Spacey manages to pull it off anyway. It takes some suspension of disbelief and an ability to pretend Spacey is singing remarkably well (and that requires some major pretending), but he does mould a convincing portrayal of Bobby Darin by the end of the film. He owes a lot of the credit to the chemistry he shares with Kate Bosworth, who plays movie star Sandra Dee, whom Darin falls in love with while filming a project in Italy. Again, forget the age difference, Spacey and Bosworth make a charming pair reminiscent of idealistic Hollywood couples of the 1950s. It’s a treasure to watch their performances as their relationship follows Darin’s career.
The most captivating, memorable moment comes late in the film, when Bobby sings to a Vegas crowd about his feelings regarding Vietnam. At this point, Spacey’s performance feels, at last, sincere — so sincere, he transcends his limitations as a performer and creates a poignant, genuine, and inherently human depiction of Bobby Darin. If Spacey had handled the entire movie with such tender sincerity (and cast someone else as Darin), Beyond the Sea may have achieved something more… but as it stands, the film is simply a marginally successful experiment for Spacey to test his own abilities as an actor, while never providing a distinction between this and every other musical biopic.
Now… if you’ll excuse me. I need some Tums. Blake French

Click
Starring: Adam Sandler, Christopher Walken, Kate Beckinsale, Henry Winkler, David Hasselhoff
Director: Frank Coraci
Scheduled Release: August 10

Adam Sandler rolls out his usual lovable goofball shtick for this journey-of-self-discovery film about a workaholic father called Michael Newman who can’t find time for his two kids or his improbably hot housewife (Kate Beckinsale). After some of the most repugnantly blatant cases of product placement in the history of film, Michael stumbles across the endearingly oddball Morty (Christopher Walken) who furnishes the stressed-out father with a curious remote control that just happens to have the powers to fast-forward, rewind and pause the universe. Yeah, that’s right, it’s a universal remote control. Bada-boom. From there, Newman embarks on what is supposed to be an hilarious madcap adventure experimenting with his marvellous instrument and using it to escape unwanted situations. Of course, because this film is targeted at a sensitive American audience, the madcappery is heavily watered down and Newman fails to reap the full potential of his wonderful device – about the best he can do is to fast-forward his way through sex with his wife. Aside from its often bland humour and a choppy plot, Click does have some plus points. Newman’s relationship with his father (Henry Winkler) is touching without being saccharine, and the kids have the oh-so-cute factor to please the clucky among us. David Hasselhoff puts in a passable performance as a parody of himself, and a stuffed toy duck shines as a mute rape victim – the family dog has trouble containing its affections. All things considered, there’s no need to go see this at the theatre – wait until it comes out on DVD. That way, you can at least reach for the remote. HM

Ant Bully
Starring: Zach Tyler Eisen, Nicolas Cage, Paul Giamatti, Julia Roberts, Meryl Streep
Director: John A. Davis
Scheduled Release: August 24

The ants bustling through the colony refer to Lucas (Zach Tyler) as ‘The Destroyer.’ The nickname is well-deserved. Because he is picked on by the neighborhood bully, the pint-sized Lucas vents his frustrations on someone (or something) quite below his own stature – the insects that crawl beneath his feet.
Well, the ants have had enough of Lucas' sweeping kicks to their hill. They've grown tired of his garden hose flooding every chamber of their elaborate home. And for once, they have a plan. Zoc (Nicolas Cage), the colony's kooky chemist, has perfected a potion that will shrink Lucas down to bug level – teaching him, in the process, why it's best to pick on someone your own size.
If one were to compile a list of difficult tasks, writing an original screenplay about ants would probably place just ahead of moving a rubber tree plant. Similar feature films – from A Bug's Life to Antz – have used animation to better explore an insect's perspective, so anyone paying to see another pest picture has to have high-apple-pie-in-the-sky hopes that the story stays fresh. With The Ant Bully, it doesn't.
That's not to say director John A. Davis skimps on either production or imagination. This creatively noisy kid flick generates a number of decent visuals pertaining to an ant's view of the larger human world. The details paid to a trip through Lucas' kitchen are amazing. We're given an unprecedented look at the inside of a toad's belly. And Davis honors Hollywood's greatest combat films when he stages a dragonfly assault in the film's first half.
But an army of celebrity voices can’t improve the script's clichéd decisions. Paul Giamatti voices a supremely immature exterminator. (Coincidentally, Giamatti's Sideways co-star Thomas Haden Church voiced an exterminator in this summer's animated Over the Hedge, too. It makes you wonder if that was planned.) Julia Roberts brings maternal warmth to her role of Lucas' ant caregiver, but Cage is creepy, cold, and overly intense as the kid's inevitable role model. Finally, to round out the A-list cast, listen for Meryl Streep, who appears briefly to voice the colony's wise queen.
It's not that Bully bugged me. It just never managed to fly. Sean O'Connell