Xiao Fangfang

As Hong Kong's economy raced ahead—and the stock and property markets surged above all—the first generation of the middle class came into being at the end of the 1970s. Their incomes were not low, but their homes were very small. Five hundred square feet (less than fifty square meters) already counted as making the grade. Anyone who truly wanted to reach the standard of "a Western-style house and a foreign dog" had to be of the tycoon class. What was called the urban film was born for one direct reason: the rise of the middle class. Hong Kong films before this had all been Republican-era dramas and costume dramas. Urban films were very scarce. Now, though, some people had noticed the market and were slowly beginning to test the water. Chen Qi's version of Ghost used ghosts and monsters as its wrapping. In its bones, it was an urban romance. In the original, the male lead and the villain were both elites of the financial world. The male lead was older, and his authority stood higher. The villain secretly laundered money for others. The male lead noticed something amiss and meant to investigate the suspicious accounts, so the villain found someone to stage a robbery and take the access password from his wallet. They never got the password, and they killed the male lead by accident. The male lead became a ghost. The villain then drew close to the female lead and, with sweet talk, tried to win her over and coax the password out of her... That was the main line of the story. Chen Qi made some changes to suit the actors. Liu Dehua was younger than Liang Jiahui, so he set them as junior and senior. Liu Dehua, just starting out and upright by nature, discovered outright that Liang Jiahui was laundering money for people. Liang Jiahui begged bitterly, feigned repentance, and then turned around and hired a killer to finish him. Who would have thought Liu Dehua had left a piece of evidence among his effects? The female lead had not found it yet, so Liang Jiahui set about wooing her, the better to destroy the evidence—and, while he was at it, to have both the woman and the money... The original ran two hours, but that would not do for a Hong Kong film. Let a Hong Kong film run past two hours, and it was simply waiting to flop. Audiences had no patience for that. Chen Qi made a great many changes, rendered the pace much brisker, and finished the whole thing within 110 minutes. In the original, neither the male lead nor the second male lead had anything that stood out. The female lead, Demi Moore, did leave something of an impression by way of her short black hair and her soulful gaze. The role that shone brightest, though, was the medium, played by Whoopi Goldberg. She later starred in Sister Act as well—a born comic star, the kind whose name endures in the history of film. Chen Qi's version also needed someone who could carry the scene. Hong Kong had many actors famous for playing ghosts and spirit mediums. Luo Lan, for instance, had made over a hundred ghost films and was known as the Queen of Ghosts, but she could not play this part. Her gift for comedy was not enough. The woman had to be unhinged—mystic and muttering, and very lovable too—with a presence so strong that she seized every eye the moment she appeared. Chen Qi thought and thought, and settled on one person. But he did not go and negotiate himself. He left it to Shi Hui. ... The restaurant. Fu Mingxian was attacking a plate of food. Shi Hui wiped her mouth for her while glancing toward the door, as if waiting for someone. Before long the doorman's voice rose in welcome, and with the click of high heels a tall woman in her thirties walked in. She had a long oval face and rather high cheekbones, and looked a little harsh, but her eyes were extraordinarily alive. Unlike the vacant eyes of most actresses, a singular charm and poise flickered in them. She came up close and called, "Sister Hui!" "Fangfang, it's been so long!" Shi Hui stood, gave her a light embrace, then drew Fu Mingxian over and said with a smile, "This is my daughter. Just call her Zhizhi... Zhizhi, say hello to Auntie Fangfang!" "She's clearly a sister. Why call her auntie?" Fu Mingxian had plainly practiced the line at home, and she delivered it without a blush or the least flutter of nerves. Xiao Fangfang, though, burst out laughing, thoroughly delighted. She hugged the little girl hard, and even slipped a bracelet from her own wrist and gave it to her. The girl stole a glance at her mother. Shi Hui knew this was a habit of the older generation; they had all come through that era. "Since she gave it to you, keep it," she said. Fu Mingxian's task was done. She rolled off to one side and went back to gnawing at her food. Xiao Fangfang watched her, full of feeling. "In a blink, so many years. Never mind you—even I have a daughter now." "Yes. How little you were then. On the set I used to hold you and play with you every day." The two of them chatted a while. Xiao Fangfang smoothed the hair at her temple, took a sip of tea, and only then asked, "Sister Hui, what did you ask me out for today?" "There's a film I'd like you to be in," Shi Hui said outright. "I left Great Wall at eight, and I've never worked with the Left since. Why come looking for me all of a sudden?" Xiao Fangfang was surprised. "Because you suit this role best. Would you like to look at the script first?" "No..." Xiao Fangfang shook her head. "My life is good now. My career counts as a success. I have a husband and a child. I don't want to stir up any trouble." "Fair enough. I read the papers in the ordinary course of things, and I often see news of you. One look, and it's plain you're happy now." Shi Hui did not press the matter of the film. She turned the talk instead. "I hear you're going to the United States to study again? What will you study this time?" "Psychology! Oh—it should be child psychology!" At the mention of study, a light came into Xiao Fangfang's face. She laughed. "The idea only came to me after I had a daughter, because I was afraid I wouldn't make a good mother. When I learned there was such a field, I only just managed to get in." "This is what I admire most about you. You never had a proper schooling, and you never gave up on yourself. You set your whole heart on study instead. Oh, right—what was it you studied in the United States last time?" "Last time it was mass communication!" "Well! Then when you come back you'll have a double degree!" "Don't embarrass me. I only came to it late." "I mean it from the heart. Still, this time you're all right. Your mother is gone. There's no one left to stop you." What Shi Hui said was a little rude. Xiao Fangfang was struck still, and Shi Hui followed at once with another line. "Ah—you've suffered too much!" Those four words made Xiao Fangfang's nose sting. She nearly let the tears fall. Her mother had been a Shanghai socialite. Her mother's first husband was that old scumbag Liu Haisu; the second was a banker, Xiao Fangfang's own father. Her mother was Zhang Shizhao's goddaughter and Fu Lei's pupil, from a family of long standing. In '49 they came to Hong Kong. Her father failed in business, ended up to his neck in debt, and died early. At seven, Xiao Fangfang was acting to support the family. At first she belonged to Great Wall. Later the Right came poaching with high pay, and her mother tore up the contract and jumped to a rightist company. Her mother was domineering, her word was law, and she kept a hold on her daughter for thirty years. She treated the girl as a money tree and moved heaven and earth to book her roles. From 1953 to 1968, Xiao Fangfang appeared in 209 films in all. She had never been to school. She had always wanted to go to the United States for further study, and her mom had never agreed. Later her mom finally did, but on one condition: the tuition would be her own to pay. So Xiao Fangfang went to the United States and performed opera on stage in Chinatown to earn the money. Just as she was about to pay the tuition, her mom said she had been cheated in business and told Xiao Fangfang to send money home... That was the kind of mom she had. Xiao Fangfang was now successful and renowned. She had opened her own company and was the boss herself, and her turn to comedy had been a great success as well. Audiences on the mainland knew her mostly from certain works of the 1990s, Fang Shiyu and Woman at Forty among them. Hong Kong had a few actresses who were damn good at comedy. Ye Dexian, Mao Shunjun, Wu Junru... But Xiao Fangfang was the first, and the best of them. She broke the convention that a woman in a Hong Kong film comedy could only be a pretty vase. She had been born deaf in her right ear, and later went completely deaf. Her several love affairs had been rough going too. All in all, she was a woman with a bitter fate.