A Star Rises in the East
Four years ago, Ziyi Zhang, who had literally soared to the attention of Hollywood as a nobleman’s beautiful daughter in ”Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon,” arranged to meet Steven Spielberg. She knew he was interested in directing the best-seller ”Memoirs of a Geisha,” and though Zhang is Chinese and geishas are Japanese, she recognized the scarcity of great parts for Asian actresses and wanted him to consider her for the title role. It was a peculiar meeting. Aside from the question of nationality, Zhang did not speak English. Ang Lee, the director of ”Crouching Tiger,” had suggested that she learn the language, but she ignored him. Although she’s ambitious, at the time she was not concentrating on the West. ”In China, they don’t care about American films,” Zhang reasoned. ”And no one thought ‘Crouching Tiger’ would be so successful.”
So when Zhang met Spielberg, she understood only three sentences (”Quiet, please,” ”Action” and ”Cut!”), and she knew how to speak just three words: ”Hire. Me. Please.” Spielberg laughed when she repeated her hire-me-please mantra, but did not hire her. Eventually, Spielberg ceded the direction of ”Geisha” to Rob Marshall, who was nominated for an Oscar for ”Chicago.” And Marshall conducted his own global search for the lead, eventually choosing Zhang. ”The word ‘geisha’ means ‘person of the arts’ in Japanese,” Marshall explained. ”And that means everything from the art of conversation to dance to escorting men. Geishas were the supermodels of their day, and Ziyi has that unusual combination of strength and grace. She has a great spirit, but outwardly she can seem fragile. And,” Marshall said, laughing, ”her English had improved.”
20east_slide3.jpg
Although Zhang is physically tiny, there is an overwhelming sense of quiet confidence about her. ”I’m not scared easily,” she said, as she ate breakfast at the Regent Beverly Wilshire in Los Angeles last December. Zhang — her full name is pronounced Zee-YEE Zhong — looked like an alert teenager, wearing jeans, a pale green sweater and a newsboy cap pulled low on her forehead. She moved with great delicacy, pouring my tea when the cup ran low, tearing apart a small corner of her croissant without producing a single crumb. Zhang was accompanied by her manager, Ling Lucas, who translated. When speaking to Lucas, her voice would become animated, and she would suddenly seem less serene, but her composure would return immediately. ”I learned to be disciplined and organized at an early age,” Zhang said. ”I can take a lot of hard work, perhaps more than most. And as a result, I am not surprised when things go well.”
Zhang is the youngest of a generation of Chinese actresses (Maggie Cheung, with whom she starred in ”Hero,” and Gong Li, who is also in ”Geisha”) to become known outside of China. She recently starred in ”House of Flying Daggers” as the blind dancer Mei and will soon be seen in ”2046,” Wong Kar-wai’s stunning new film. Chinese actresses, like the Chinese movies that feature them, tend to be reminiscent of old Hollywood: gorgeous faces in a sumptuous setting. Zhang is the most childlike of the group, but she has a toughness in her gaze, a look of complication that is striking. As Ang Lee told The Los Angeles Times, Zhang, after all, was ”the hidden dragon — the untamed nature in all of us.”
When Zhang was only 19, that expressive combination of interest, intensity and, of course, sexuality caught the attention of the famed Chinese director Zhang Yimou as she was auditioning for a shampoo commercial. For years, she had been preparing for that moment — Zhang had begun studying Chinese folk dance at the age of 11. ”I decided not to continue with dance,” she said, eating a single raspberry. ”I challenged my teachers, which is a dangerous thing to do in China. One day, when I was 13, I disappeared for just a few hours. I went and lay down in a field. When they found out I was missing, they called the police, and my mother and I went back.” Zhang sighed. ”Later I realized that dancing had no future, so I decided to go to drama school at China’s Central Drama Academy. That required one week’s worth of tests. Dancing, writing stories, singing and improvisation. I was scared: thousands of students try to get in, and there were only eight slots for eight girls.” And here Zhang smiled and confided her secret advantage. ”I got along with the teachers,” she said.
Although they never made the shampoo commercial, Zhang began a professional liaison with Yimou. Their first movie together, ”The Road Home,” the story of a girl’s first romance set against the Cultural Revolution, was applauded in the West. They went on to collaborate on ”Hero” and ”House of Flying Daggers,” both of which were hits in the United States. ”But I never really thought about America,” Zhang said. ”I never considered, how do you enter into this culture?”
Marshall, who comes from the musical theater, was particularly impressed with Zhang’s background in dance. ”It gives you a discipline and a way to walk and move,” he explained. ”We rehearsed for six weeks — I had six rooms working at all times.” Even during filming, the rehearsals were particularly rigorous. Said Zhang: ”On a typical day, we shoot from 9 to 6 and then have training for everything we need to do in the movie. I usually start at 6 a.m. and, with all the classes, work to midnight. The language scenes are the hardest for me. You can practice the rest.”
Zhang touched her eye, which was a little pink. ”I wear blue contacts in the movie,” she said. ”And they are not easy.” It is difficult to imagine most young American actresses adhering to this kind of training, especially in another language. But according to Marshall, ”Ziyi’s focus is only on trying to perfect the role.” He is also aware that ”Geisha” was easy compared to filming in China. ”There, they shoot from 7 a.m. to midnight, six days a week,” he said. ”And they consider themselves very lucky.”
Taking a sip of orange juice, Zhang politely explained her sense of purpose. ”I remember when I dreamed of having this time,” she said, looking steely but sweet. ”Not just this time, but still more like it. And more, and more. I think I now understand America. Hopefully, they will understand me.”