After a long and fruitful career for many artists or film school. It’re making movies, but you don’t know what to do. You want to be able to make something that is bigger than you are. But I think I was always able to come up with an idea and say, “This is what I want to do.
On Tuesday, Taiwanese director Ang Lee received another illustrious accolade, further enhancing his already illustrious career in the arts. This time, it was the Praemium Imperiale, which he received at a formal event in Tokyo. Known as Asia’s equivalent to the Nobel Prize, this award is presented annually to artists across different disciplines. The fact that esteemed film and theater figures such as Federico Fellini, Akira Kurosawa, Jean-Luc Godard, Martin Scorsese, and Catherine Deneuve have received this prize in the past speaks volumes about its prestige.
Lee expressed that he views his career as an ongoing educational journey, where he continually discovers cinema, himself, and the world. He emphasized that there is no limit to what can be learned in this process. During a news conference in Tokyo prior to the awards ceremony, he also shared his pride and deep gratitude for being the first person from Taiwan to receive this particular award.
Lee’s professional journey truly warrants exceptional recognition. His collection of work is marked not only by a persistent artistic ingenuity but also impressive skill mastery. Critics have long acknowledged that few, if any, directors of his contemporary era have built such a distinguished and versatile body of work. Following two Oscar nominations for his Taiwanese family drama trilogy – Pushing Hands (1991), The Wedding Banquet (1993) and Eat Drink Man Woman (1994) – Lee dared to step out of his familiar territory, achieving critical success with his adaptation of Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility (1995).
His success propelled him to persistently reinvent himself, as seen in his diverse filmography. This ranges from the poignant New England family drama in “The Ice Storm” (1997), the martial arts masterpiece “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon” (2000), the emotional gay Western “Brokeback Mountain” (2005), the provocative erotic espionage thriller “Lust, Caution” (2007), and the technologically innovative saga “Life of Pi” (2012). Even before it became a common question for movie journalists to ask versatile filmmakers if they would consider directing a superhero film, Lee had already ventured into this genre with the early Marvel production “Hulk” in 2003. Throughout his career, he has garnered nine Oscar nominations and won three awards: Best Foreign Language Film for “Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon”, Best Director for “Brokeback Mountain” and “Life of Pi”.
This week, Lee claimed the Praemium Imperiale, marking a significant turning point in his extensive career. It’s been six years since he stepped onto a film set, during the making of the science fiction action movie “Gemini Man” (2019), starring Will Smith. While some critics praised its technical prowess, the film underperformed financially, reaching as a low point in Lee’s career.
In a Zoom conversation prior to Tuesday’s award ceremony, Lee shared his thoughts with The Hollywood Reporter on the profound sense of uncertainty that permeates his creative journey and expressed feelings of bewilderment, yet maintained unwavering optimism about the future potential of cinema.
What thoughts led you to consider this recognition as significant, and how does its bestowal impact you at this point in your professional journey?
Indeed, this award is considered Japan’s equivalent of the Nobel Prize, making it quite prestigious and an honor to receive. Interestingly enough, I am the first individual from Taiwan to have been awarded it. As a result, I feel a sense of pride associated with that fact. However, I like to believe I’m continuing my career trajectory, so perhaps I’ve received it a bit ahead of schedule – though I certainly hope that’s the case!
Martin Scorsese was honored nearly a decade ago and has directed three movies since then. Therefore, it seems there’s no need for concern regarding the upcoming honor.
Interestingly enough, Akira Kurosawa didn’t seem to find as much recognition through the Praemium Imperiale award. He received it in 1992, which was a year prior to his last movie, titled Madadayo.
Of course, it’s understandable that in a moment like this, you might reflect on your career to date. To begin, I’d like to pose a question that I suspect you’ve been asked multiple times before. When examining your diverse collection of films, what common characteristics do you perceive? These could be thematic elements, technical aspects, or something else entirely. Where do you feel your unique style is most evident?
For many years, people have frequently posed the same question to me – perhaps starting from my fourth or fifth film. They’re always curious about what Jane Austen means to me, why 1973 New England, and the inner lives of gay cowboys. The more they ask, the more I’ve felt a desire to explore subjects far removed from my personal experiences in my work. So, you might wonder, why not set a story in India? Well, it seems we all have hidden motivations that we don’t always discuss or can’t express clearly. Over time, I’ve attempted to answer this question, and every few years, my response changes. Now, as I continue to grow, my perspective on this question shifts too.
Perhaps I can be truthful by admitting that I was apprehensive about remaining stationary and continuing with familiar work, as I feared it might result in subpar art – a concern that weighs heavily on me. Alternatively, I may have been hesitant to remain static due to the nature of life itself; it rarely allows us to dwell for extended periods in one place. If I had persisted in one artistic style, I felt it wouldn’t be authentic.
Throughout my life, I’ve grappled with questions about my identity. The culture that shaped me has been repeatedly fractured. My parents immigrated to Taiwan from China and often felt like outsiders. Later, I moved to the United States, drifting without a clear sense of belonging. As a result, I struggle to define my roots; they seem elusive, more like a dream than reality. In some ways, I’ve found solace in cinema, a world where I can lose myself and find familiarity. When I create, I enjoy the freedom to explore different paths. Just as we don’t revisit the same city multiple times, I prefer not to stick to the same formula when making movies. This is one reason, but there are others.
Beyond the obvious explanations, I suspect my underlying concern has always been about safety. It’s hard for me to articulate this sensation, but whenever I feel safe, an intense fear arises within me – I need to escape that situation immediately.
As a passionate movie-maker myself, I’m always eager to discover new techniques and approaches. While it’s often said that renowned filmmakers or visionaries each possess a unique signature – their distinct message or style – this isn’t always the case. For some of us, filmmaking is simply a means to learn about life and its complexities. Whether we’re building or tearing down narratives, it offers an exciting exploration into various aspects of human existence.
Essentially, there’s no perfect response to your query, but it boils down to my insatiable curiosity. I might be more of an actor than a director – I enjoy exploring various roles. Initially, I aspired to be an actor, yet I transitioned into directing due to language barriers when I moved to the U.S. As I couldn’t perform in English fluently, I shifted my focus to direction. Upon attending film school, I discovered my niche – visual and auditory storytelling – which felt incredibly natural to me. Nothing has ever come easily to me like directing did. However, it was only when I directed Sense and Sensibility that I found the truly daring aspect of it. Having completed four movies prior, I knew I needed to take a drastic change to avoid becoming monotonous. Directing Sense and Sensibility gave me the courage. Despite my broken English and tackling Jane Austen’s work, the conversations with cast and crew were amusing yet challenging. It was tough for them, and I felt embarrassed, but somehow, that movie resonates.
There must be something about movies that transcends words, logic. That’s the enchantment of films. I can’t pinpoint why it works, it’s a mystery. If you genuinely work with your team and have faith in it, something extraordinary will occur – and it will succeed. It’s not about language. I find that inspiring. Cinema surpasses all cultural boundaries. In the dark cinema, viewers share a personal, honest moment collectively. When directors are interviewed, we strive to express ourselves. However, I believe our true intentions and the essence of cinema – they remain a complete enigma, unexplainable.
That was a truly amazing answer to my very obvious, basic question. I think we’re done here.
[Laughs.] I haven’t scratched the surface.
Your story about your parents visiting Taiwan and feeling out of place, then moving to the U.S. and still feeling lost resonates with me as a gamer. Could it be that your immersion into diverse worlds through movies, time periods, and narratives is an ongoing exploration, akin to the journey of a drifter?
Indeed, one of the 12 potential solutions, it seems. I believe many individuals share my sentiments, as we often long for a sense of belonging, yet struggle to find it consistently. Our foundations are largely shaped by our education and upbringing, which are essentially instilled in us, much like roots being planted. They become established within us before we’re fully conscious of them, and once set, they’re challenging to break free from – these are our roots. Not every root system thrives or grows robustly. Many of us experience complications. [Laughs.] Artistic works, including films, serve as a means of expression for us. We crave to be heard, but at the same time, we must mask our true selves to avoid being fully understood. Perhaps there’s a sense of embarrassment in being understood. That’s why craftsmanship – both concealing and expressing ourselves – is necessary for us. Somehow, as human beings, we appear to find enjoyment in this duality – creating and receiving it.
As I was getting ready for our chat, I stumbled upon various articles online detailing your early career, and one story in particular caught my attention. It recounted that following your graduation from film school, you faced a prolonged period of difficulty and even contemplated abandoning filmmaking to delve into computer science instead.
Actually, that’s quite far from the truth! [Laughs] In fact, it’s my intelligence that allows me to excel in tech fields rather than flipping burgers on a grill.
If your career in filmmaking hadn’t panned out for some reason, would you envision yourself living an entirely different lifestyle instead?
It’s no secret that I excel at directing. I’ve struggled with other jobs throughout my career, but when it comes to this field, I find a unique knack. Frankly, I’ve always found it challenging to focus on anything else, and I’m rather ungainly by nature. However, an unexpected twist unfolded during film school, where despite my limited English proficiency, tasks seemed effortless, and people listened attentively to my ideas. It wasn’t until six years after graduation that things began to pick up for me. In those six years, I considered returning to Taiwan and seeking employment as an assistant director. But just at that moment, fortune smiled upon me, as I won a script award, kick-starting my career. Some might say there’s a movie god, and I tend to agree. While others may have burst onto the scene immediately after film school, I believe those six years were crucial for my growth and development. If I had begun making films right out of college, I fear I would have faltered.
Currently, I’ve spent another six years without producing a film, and it feels as though some cosmic force may be at play. Although I don’t subscribe to the idea of predestination, this pause in my filmmaking journey seems significant. I wouldn’t describe myself as inherently bold, but my career has placed me in high-pressure scenarios, such as when creating a large-scale production and choosing to diverge from initial expectations or embarking on an unconventional path following a successful project.
It seems like you’re finding solace in the ambiguity, something that might have troubled you more when you were younger. Could you clarify what’s puzzling you? In addition, I was going to inquire about your upcoming projects. There has been some talk about a long-developing Bruce Lee project, for instance.
Speaking candidly, I’ve been finding it challenging. I’ve grappled with this for quite some time now. You see, it reminds me of the transition from school to the real world, where you strive for something greater than yourself. The movie industry, encompassing the audience and its operations, demands just that. However, I’m not the type who can forcefully impose myself onto the world; instead, I need guidance and support. I must find my place. Currently, I’m grappling with an environment that I don’t fully comprehend. If I were to dictate where cinema should head, I’m unsure of how to bring about change at this moment. I feel exposed in this regard. I believe the cinematic world needs a radical transformation; it seems stale. That’s my sentiment. Yet, we don’t know what the next big thing will be. But rest assured, I’m persisting, and it will take as long as it takes.
It’s clear that persisting with the current industry path might lead us down a blind alley. Instead of forcing young people to abandon their phones, it’s crucial to develop something they find irresistible. The old Hollywood formula no longer seems enticing. However, I don’t believe that mere streaming shows or brief clips on smartphones can fully satisfy people. While this may sound somewhat philosophical, humans have a fundamental need for community, and for long periods, our movie theaters served as gathering places, offering us shared experiences through storytelling. Essentially, they were our collective sanctuaries. I believe this is a fundamental human requirement.
I constantly strive to recapture the bliss of paradise – the thrill I felt watching movies in the cinema as a child, which left a lasting impact on me. When creating “Crouching Tiger”, my aim was to employ martial arts films, an unfamiliar genre for most U.S. viewers, as a means to evoke that carefree enjoyment once more. The charm of musicals from the 1950s lies in their ability to make you believe that anyone could break into song and dance spontaneously. I sought to capture that same free-spirited essence, but without actors singing and dancing in English. Thus, I chose “Crouching Tiger”, a martial arts movie featuring characters who can fly. In essence, this is what it’s about. We must find innovative methods to return to that innocence – it’s our duty as filmmakers to inspire awe in the audience once more.
It seems like you’ve taken on a task that’s quite heavy and perhaps more than you should expect – not only deciding your next project, but also finding a solution for the profound questions that the entire film industry is grappling with.
Perhaps, there’s another possibility. I still feel the urge to create something. [Laughs lightly.] If pondering these difficulties prevents me from embarking on a new project, then I must question my current state. For you see, I miss crafting movies deeply. There’s a craving, a tangible need for it. The process is always challenging, yet it also provides a sense of wellbeing in an unexpected way. When I’m not making a movie, like at this moment, I find myself restless and without direction. I yearn for the creative outlet and am certainly addicted to that thrill. So, I’m uncertain about the future. I’m merely expressing, honestly, that I’m perplexed and somewhat lost. But I believe it’s crucial to feel confused – as the challenges we face are profound. It’s a challenging era for our art form. It’s both painful and intriguing. I can only hope that movies will find some resolution to these difficulties.
Read More
Sorry. No data so far.
2024-11-22 01:25