There's just no stopping Wong Jing from multiplying box office success — no matter what critics think
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It is difficult to avoid contradiction when talking about Wong Jing; universally derided by critics, he is also one of the most popular filmmakers in Hong Kong, especially among the masses who go to the movies to switch off and have some fun.
Although largely unknown outside the SAR, Wong has directed more than 90 movies, produced 150 more and he just happens to be Hong Kong’s highest grossing director of the past two decades, taking in over HK$1 billion in box office revenue. In fact some credit him with being responsible for most of the industry’s livelihood. As the saying goes, “when even Wong Jing doesn’t have any new projects, things really must be bad.”
Wong has a simple explanation for his success: “First, I’m fundamentally a really good writer; secondly, I’m very hardworking; and thirdly, I choose the right people to work with.” Looks like modesty has nothing to do with it, then. But to give him credit where it’s due, Wong did singlehandedly invent the gambling movie tradition that is so unique to Hong Kong. In fact, Chow Yun Fat’s God of Gamblers (1989) is considered as one of the greatest classics of Hong Kong cinema.
“Chinese people are addicted to gambling,” says Wong. “Where there are Chinese people, there’s gambling, so a gambling movie had to work. I came up with the idea in my twenties and I have never given up on it. It’s my trademark.” The tradition has given way to some wacky ideas along the way, like the scam to fake World Cup footage in The Conman (1998), with Andy Lau as Beckham and Nick Cheung as Ronaldo. Oddly, though, it works.
Besides the gambling movies, Wong has also capitalised on the parody film market, most notably with the first entry in his The Romancing Star series (1987), which stars Chow Yun Fat and Maggie Cheung, and gives Chow’s previous movie A Better Tomorrow (1986) the thorough Scary Movie treatment.
Of the current state of Hong Kong cinema, Wong says that “success isn’t just based on good box office results, these days. Production costs can be much higher than a movie’s actual revenue. It’s getting harder to make any money.” To make up for it, the already prolific Wong is busier than ever, sometimes attending up to nine meetings in a single day and writing new stories in his spare time. As our photographer sets up the lighting for the photoshoot, Wong wastes no time, going through and signing the phone-directory-sized stack of documents on his desk.
If anything, moments like these justify Wong’s reputation as an exceptional businessman, regardless of the quality of his movies. But with more than a few dozen critically panned entries on his lengthy resume, how does the man feel about the critics who loathe his movies?
At the mention of critics, Wong gets visibly agitated. “Only rubbish people would call my movies rubbish. What qualifies them to have an opinion? Critics are not God, and it’s not for them to judge what’s good or bad; the audience should decide. It’s easy for anyone to use a pen to dismiss others. If I was to pick up my pen, they would lose 99 per cent of the time. I’ve never, ever heard a member of the audience call my movies rubbish.”
To be fair, Wong has come up with some solid dramas in recent years, such as Colour of the Truth (2003) and Colour of the Loyalty (2005). “I’ve just started a new project called Kingdom of Corruption. I think you have to do different things at different ages; I’m a middle-aged man, so I should start tackling more serious topics. I made comedies when I was young, but there just aren’t that many middle-aged people who can make successful comedies.”
Citing Norman Jewison, Lewis Gilbert, Terence Young and Martin Scorsese as his major creative influences, will Wong apply himself to art-house cinema next? “I’ll never say no to anything; and I’ve already made an arty film, Crying Heart (1999),” he is quick to point out. “Casino Tycoon (1992) is another one. My favourite art films are In the Mood for Love and Chungking Express. Happy Together is good, too. I like how these appeal to both the general public and the niche markets.”
Speaking of arty stuff, has he thought of exploring the foreign markets as well? “I’m not ambitious. I don’t need the whole world to kneel down before me. And anyway, if it’s all so rosy out there, why did John Woo come back?” Wong asks, grinning. “You think it’s for his love for China?”
Edmund Lee
Read our other features:
Final cut: Who decides what you see?
Johnnie To: The Auteur
Wong Chun-chun: The accidental feminist
Herman Yau: The cult director
Pang Ho-cheung: The enfant terrible