Young Rock in the PRC

In the same year that Hong Kong's Young Rock (青春樂 / Qingchun le) seduced Chinese youth with the spectacle of hula hoops and rock and roll, Red China's The Song of Youth (青春之歌 / Qingchun zhige) offered an equally intoxicating tale of personal transformation and national salvation. Adapted from the bestselling novel by Yang Mo, it was one of eighteen films released in 1959 to celebrate the tenth anniversary of the founding of the People's Republic of China. Unlike Lam Fung in Young Rock, the heroine of The Song of Youth (played by the radiant Xie Fang) would rather study Karl Marx than sing and dance. Nonetheless, the film's finale rocks loud and hard — even if it might have also served to drown out the grumbling of the starving masses.

Lam Fung: Young Rock

 Teddy boy Mak Kay and rich girl Lam Fung in Young Rock (1959)

In my previous post I highlighted teen idols Connie Chan and Josephine Siao and the rise of the youth film during the late 1960s. The spirit of youth, however, had been simmering in Hong Kong cinema since the late 50s. In 1959, during the Chinese New Year holidays, studio rivals Shaw Brothers and MP&GI went head to head at the box office with a pair of films that were targeted squarely at the younger generation. In fact, both movies incorporated in their titles that watchword I mentioned last time: 青春 / qingchun ("youth").

In one corner was MP&GI's Spring Song (青春兒女 / Qingchun ernu), featuring "Mambo Girl" Grace Chang and "Students' Sweetheart" Jeanette Lin Tsui. In the other was Shaw's Young Rock (青春樂 / Qingchun le), starring Patricia Lam Fung, the "Jewel of Shaw". We are fortunate that Spring Song is available on video, but I'm sorry to report that Young Rock is, as far as I can ascertain, a lost film. It's a shame to think it might never be seen again. Synopses of the film suggest that Young Rock wasn't just a carbon copy of Spring Song. It was evidently somewhat edgier fare than MP&GI's lighthearted tale of personal and romantic rivalry. In the February 1959 issue of Southern Screen, Young Rock was introduced as a film about juvenile delinquency:

"What are the problems of the youth of today? What turns them into teddy-boys and teddy-girls? Shaw's latest production 'The Joy of Youth' answers these questions boldly and unreservedly. It gives a frank and penetrating analysis of the problems of the younger generation."

But while Young Rock included triads, dance hostesses, knife fights, and abductions, it also featured singing, dancing, and hula hooping — which were the main attractions. The film's songs are especially noteworthy because they mark the beginnings of Cantopop, which blended the influences of Mandarin shi dai qu, American and British pop, and Cantonese opera and folk songs into an exciting new sound.

Ad for Lam Fung's song albums

Lam Fung's 1957 debut at Shaw Brothers was a Cantonese opera film; her second film was a Republican-era ghost tale based on Pu Songling's Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio. It wasn't until her third film, A Pretty Girl's Love Affair (1958), that Shaw decided to cast her as a modern-day teen in a bid to copy the success of Grace Chang, whose breakout film Mambo Girl (1957) had been a big moneymaker for rival studio MP&GI. Like Mambo Girl, A Pretty Girl's Love Affair featured catchy songs about dancing the cha cha. The film was a huge hit, and the formula was repeated in Lam Fung's subsequent Shaw films. Her songs proved so popular that LP compilations were released by Ruby Records (寶石). I believe there were a total of five albums, copies of which nowadays fetch a hefty price on the collectors market. The advertisement to your left appeared on the back cover of Southern Screen (January 1961) and gives you a sense of Lam Fung's important place in Hong Kong's music culture at the time. Notice that the other LPs are soundtracks for Shaw's blockbuster huangmei opera films starring movie queen Lin Dai.

Sadly, like her early Shaw films, none of Lam Fung's songs are currently available to the public. Lucky for us then that a dear friend of mine recently gifted me with a homemade recording of her second song album, which includes six songs from Young Rock. In this way we can at least get a taste of what the film was like.

Let me relate a few bits of trivia before you listen to the songs below. The lead singer of the first tune is Mak Kay, who plays Lam Fung's dangerous teddy boy attraction. In case you're wondering, in the opening lines he proclaims, "Ngo hai, ngo hai... ngo hai dongfang gei... shhhh... Maaaau Wong", which translates roughly as "I am, I am.... I am both the East... and the King of Cats". "King of Cats" (Mau Wong / 貓王) is the Chinese nickname for Elvis Presley (derived from his early American nickname "The Hillbilly Cat"). The American influence continues in the next song, "Who Doesn't Love Spring?", an adaptation of Debbie Reynold's 1957 hit "Tammy". And then there's "I Love Singing and Dancing", which takes its cue from Deanna Durbin singing "I Love to Whistle" in Mad about Music (1938). By the way, the scene of Deanna and her classmates cycling through the countryside served as a template for similar scenes in Lam Fung's Sweet Girl in Terror (1958) and Connie Chan's The Sweetest Moment (1967).

Without further ado, let's sing and dance with Lam Fung! As you listen to the songs, take a peek at the tantalizing stills from Young Rock in this souvenir booklet which was sold at theaters showing the film.

青春樂 ("Young Rock") with Mak Kay
(play song)

誰不愛春天 ("Who Doesn't Love Spring?")
(play song)

青春偶像 ("Teen Idol")
(play song)

我愛歌舞 ("I Love Singing and Dancing")
(play song)

大家來跳 Cha Cha Cha ("Let's Dance Cha Cha Cha") with Mak Kay
(play song)

應為人類作先鋒 ("To Be Pioneers for Humanity")
(play song)

* Thanks to Muzikland for the identification of the original American songs. For more information about Lam Fung and the birth of Cantopop, see Yung Sai-shing's "The Joy of Youth, Made in Hong Kong: Patricia Lam Fung and Shaws' Cantonese Films" in The Shaw Screen: A Preliminary Study (Hong Kong Film Archive, 2003).


 Lam Fung demonstrates the "young rock"

Connie Chan: Precious Youth

As it was elsewhere in the world, "youth" (青春 / qingchun) was the watchword of the times in 1960s Hong Kong, and during that era nobody epitomized the spirit of youth better than Connie Chan and Josephine Siao. In 1966 they starred together in the teen musical Colourful Youth (彩色青春 / Caise qingchun), which broke box office records and helped set the trend for youth movies in Hong Kong cinema. Later that year, Shaw Brothers also jumped on the bandwagon with The Joy of Spring (歡樂青春 / Huanle qingchun). Throughout the remainder of the decade, the near-magical word qingchun was used frequently in film titles and song lyrics, including Connie's 1967 melodrama Waste Not Our Youth (莫負青春 / Mofu qingchun). Although the film is ultimately a cautionary tale for wayward teens, the irrepressible spirit of youth comes across loud and clear in its songs.

及時行樂 ("Happy Together")
(play song)

年青的一代 ("The Young Generation")
(play song)

莫負青春 ("Precious Youth")
(play song)

月下情歌 ("Duet under the Moon")
(play song)

* Back cover of the EP with Chinese lyrics

Let me end this post by sharing one of my favorite scenes from the movie. Here's the setup. Traumatized by an attempted rape, Connie has lost her marbles. Her parents and childhood boyfriend are trying to coax her back to sanity. See what happens when Connie's attacker comes to visit her at the hospital.

Antique Shanghai Pop Music

I'm quite remiss in not pointing this out sooner — since I first discovered it about a month ago — but better late than never. Launched in January this year, Antique Shanghai Pop Music is a wonderful new podcast devoted to the golden age of Mandarin pop, hosted with ardor and wit by the charming Ling. Whether you are a total stranger to these classic songs, an already avid but linguistically impaired fan, or a native-speaking aficionado, you will find Ling a most endearing and knowledgeable guide.

So far he has created five installments, starting with an overview of Shanghai-era shi dai qu (literally, "songs of the times") followed by episodes devoted to pairs of individual singers, such as Zhou Xuan & Yao Li and Li Xianglan & Bai Guang. Ling hopes to complete a dozen installments, after which he plans to enhance the contents of his site with singer and composer profiles and English lyrics for all of the songs featured in his podcasts.

This last feature, which he's already started, is a godsend for folks like me who love shi dai qu but haven't yet attempted the daunting task of learning Mandarin. Thanks to Ling's show I'm finally able to understand the words of some of my favorite songs. And let me tell you, it's like falling in love all over again.

So please check out Antique Shanghai Pop Music. It earns my highest recommendation. You can download the shows directly from Ling's site, as well as Apple's iTunes Store.

* The image above comes Chinese Woman and Modernity: Calendar Posters of the 1910s-1930s.

There's Something About Maylia

Here are a few pics that didn't make it into my previous post about Maylia, the striking beauty that Columbia Pictures was hoping to turn into the next Anna May Wong. The first two photos are publicity shots for her grand debut, To the Ends of the Earth (1948), and the last is from the April 1948 issue of Esquire.

Maylia: "Beautiful" in Cantonese

 "Hollywood's first Chinese starlet since Anna May Wong"

No, Maylia was not the "first Chinese starlet since Anna May Wong", as claimed by Columbia Pictures, but she did join the ranks of earlier Chinese American actresses misused and undervalued by Hollywood: such as Lotus Liu, who was twice promised the featured role in The Good Earth (1937) that eventually went to Austrian dancer Tilly Losch; charming Iris Wong, who provided a bouquet of freshness to Charlie Chan in Reno (1939) and Charlie Chan in Rio (1941) before disappearing into the thin air of uncredited bit parts; and Marianne Quon, who, after showing great promise in China (1943) and Charlie Chan in the Secret Service (1944), moved to Hong Kong, where she became one of the colony's top stars.

Hailing from Detroit, Michigan, Maylia — real name: Gloria Chin — was just a 20-year-old coed vacationing in Hollywood when she was spotted in a restaurant by the wife of writer-producer Sidney Buchman. She was asked to audition for a role in Buchman's big-budget project, To the Ends of the Earth, and voilà! — a star was born. Of course, she would need to change her name to something more befitting the "first Chinese starlet since Anna May Wong", something a little more exotic. According to the studio publicity, "Maylia is her name, and in Cantonese it means beautiful" (The Huntingdon Daily News, March 3, 1947).* Around the same time, Gloria underwent another name change. Within days of signing her contract with Columbia Pictures, she had a fateful meeting with actor Benson Fong (best known at the time as Charlie Chan's "number three son"). It must have been love at first sight, because the two got hitched a few weeks later.

Although shooting for To the Ends of the Earth was completed in early 1947, the film wasn't released until the following year. In the meantime, Maylia played a small part in Universal's Singapore (1947), as Ava Gardner's servant. Unbeknownst to the public, she was also in "preproduction" for a role that would soon take her away from acting. Before her film debut even hit the screens that August, the "first Chinese starlet since Anna May Wong" was already pregnant with her first child and due for delivery in January of 1948 (which could have been why Columbia decided to delay the release of To the Ends of the Earth).

Maylia in Boston Blackie's Chinese Venture

Motherhood definitely threw a wrench in Columbia's plans for the "first Chinese starlet since Anna May Wong", and Maylia quietly rode out her contract with a couple of B-list Chinatown mysteries: Boston Blackie's Chinese Venture (1949) and Chinatown at Midnight (1949). In 1950, Maylia gave birth to her second child, which effectively marked the end of her brief film career (although she evidently made two uncredited appearances in the early 50s).

Luckily for us, we can at least glimpse the star that Maylia might have been in the following clip from To the Ends of the Earth. Let me set up the scene for you: Dick Powell plays an agent from the Federal Bureau of Narcotics who's been engaged in a round-the-world manhunt for the mysterious "Jean Hawks", leader of a global drug ring using opium as a "weapon to keep the world divided and its citizens slaves"; Swedish actress Signe Hasso plays an American philanthropist whom we are led to believe might actually be the nefarious "Jean Hawks"; and Maylia plays the Chinese war orphan who is unknowingly being used by "Jean Hawks" as part of her cover.



Talk about a twist! Who'd have thought that the leader of a global drug ring funding the Japanese war machine is a 19-year-old Chinese girl. I'm alternately wowed and appalled by the proposition. On the one hand, it makes for a pretty cool villain role, which Maylia clearly relished. On the other, such a blatant resurrection of "The Daughter of Fu Manchu" in a movie purporting to be "based on actual incidents from the files of the United States Department of Treasury" is, frankly, quite demented. But hey, that's Hollywood for you.

I must confess that I found Dick Powell and his righteous speechifying quite annoying. In my fantasy of the film, the pistol is loaded with real bullets instead of blanks, and Maylia has the last line. "Don't call me princess, gweilo."

* BTW, "beautiful" in Cantonese is more accurately rendered in English as "mei lai".

Gaga for Bingbing

Excuse me for gushing over my new favorita, Miss Li Bingbing, who has knocked me over with a one-two punch of recent photo shoots. The picture above comes from a candid series taken at the Piazza San Marco in Venice, where she's been attending the International Film Festival in support of her new movie Detective Dee and the Mystery of the Phantom Flame (directed by the once — and hopefully still — visionary Tsui Hark).

At the opposite end of the fashion spectrum are these two stunning photos from a spread in the forthcoming October issue of Harper's Bazaar China. I'm so wowed by them that I'm compelled to break my self-imposed exile in the glamor of yesteryear and celebrate Miss Li's contemporary, yet classic, allure.





* Thanks to fellow fans dleedlee and ewaffle for setting the bait!

Faye Wong: Decadence

Beatrice Fung Oye: Brooklyn Swing Diva

I wish I could tell you more about Chinese American singer Beatrice Fung Oye, but I've only found a few scraps of information, mostly from Billboard and some of the New York gossip columns of the day.

I can't confirm when she started to sing professionally, but by June of 1942 Beatrice was performing at Louise's Monte Carlo in New York City. "Fung Oye, Chinese, is a cute, young thing who sings pops in a pleasant enough voice and with vivacity. In her 15th week here, her popularity continues to grow" (Billboard, October 3). Billboard listings indicate that she stayed on at the Monte Carlo through the rest of '42.

The following year she performed for a few months at the Ubangi — where she was "the first non-Negro" to sing at the club (Billboard, February 20) — before moving on to Leon & Eddie's in May. Beatrice was still playing at Leon & Eddie's a year later, although I've found no proof whether she sang there exclusively.

During this time her name popped up occasionally in the New York gossip columns, which were syndicated in newspapers across the country. Walter Winchell mentioned her as "the cute little Chinese girl soliciting funds for China Relief at 57th and 5th" (October 31, 1942), and according to Dorothy Kilgallen, the "chanteuse at Leon & Eddie's is mad about Mexican chili con carne — and what's more, she eats it with chopsticks!" (May 5, 1943).

In 1945 Beatrice got a big break when she was selected as one of the winners of ABC's On Stage Everybody talent contest (The Abilene Reporter-News, April 7). The prize was a role in the Universal musical based on ABC's popular radio show. Here's a photo of her with five of the ten winners. The movie opened in July, and that fall Beatrice toured the country with a vaudeville unit composed of performers from the cast.


Newspaper ad from The Salt Lake Tribune (October 21, 1945)

After her brush with national fame, Beatrice returned to New York City and sang at the China Doll, the East Coast equivalent of San Francisco's Forbidden City. She was evidently still newsworthy enough to appear on the Broadway gossip radar. Columnist Danton Walker revealed this amusing bit of trivia: "When Beatrice Fung Oye, the Brooklyn-born Chinese prima donna, goes to Dodgers games she yells at the umpire in Chinese" (December 1, 1947).


Newspaper ad from The New York Times (April 15, 1947)

In 1951–52, she hit the road with Tom Ball's China Doll Revue, performing alongside "Chop Suey" veterans Ming & Ling and Florence Hin Lowe. And that's the last trace of Beatrice I can find.

Luckily, I was able to track down a copy of On Stage Everybody, so let's end this post with a rare glimpse of Brooklyn swing diva Beatrice Fung Oye!

Koo Mei and Kitten

 from The Milky Way Pictorial (July 1959)