Cheuk Cheung’s My Way ( Qiandan Lu ): A Documentary Film on Male Performers of Female Roles in Cantonese Opera

Abstract

MEDIA REVIEW: CHEUK CHEUNG’S MY WAY (QIANDAN LU): A DOCUMENTARY FILM ON MALE PERFORMERS OF FEMALE ROLES IN CANTONESE OPERA BELL YUNG University of Pittsburgh Cantonese opera has been immensely popular for centuries in the Pearl River Delta and in other parts of China and the globe where there were Cantonese-speaking communities. But like other traditional operas, in the last century it has been losing audience members as the older ones die and are not replaced by younger ones. It is therefore all the more astounding when two young men in Hong Kong, Wong Hau Wai 王侯偉 (1981–), and Tam Wing Lun 譚詠倫 (1993–), were so captivated by the art form at a young age that they dedicated themselves completely and earnestly to studying the singing and acting with the intention of carving out careers as professional Cantonese opera performers. What is even more surprising and remarkable is that both of them, independently and unknown to one another, wanted to sing and act as qiandan 乾旦 (males playing female roles; the Chinese name of the film is Qiandan lu 乾旦路 [The way of the qiandan]), which, unlike Peking opera, was rarely practiced in Cantonese Opera. The two youths spent years learning the singing and acting on their own from audio and visual recordings, despite, understandably and predictably, initial skepticism and objections from their middle-class, non-operatic families. This extraordinary documentary film directed by Cheuk Cheung 卓翔1 shows footage from home movies of Wong beginning from age nineteen (2002), when he won an amateur singing contest, and of Tam from age eleven (2004), when he first met Wong, and they compared their art as qiandan (see Fig. 1). At that time, Tam, still in school, took every chance he could get to perform in minor opera troupes, and eventually gained some recognition. He recounts a particularly painful experience that happened later: on stage in the middle of an opera, his voice suddenly broke, and as desperately as he tried, he simply could no longer produce the high pitches of a qiandan, and was booed off the stage. Devastated, he had no choice but to switch to singing male roles. Since then, he and Wong partnered to perform the male and female lead roles together (see Fig. 2). Meanwhile, Wong also performed in minor opera troupes, but branched out to teach children in community programs, and organized events featuring amateur operatic singing. One episode shows him teaching a young teenage girl who entered a competition; another shows him teaching a class of about a dozen 1 Enquiries can be sent to cheukcheung@zuni.org.hk. CHINOPERL: Journal of Chinese Oral and Performing Literature 34. 2 (December 2015): 182–184© The Permanent Conference on Chinese Oral and Performing Literature, Inc. 2015 DOI 10.1080/01937774.2015.1096568 nine- or ten-year-old boys and girls. These vignettes reveal Wong as a conscientious and caring teacher completely dedicated to the art form. The documentary, which runs seventy-one minutes, was shot mainly in the Spring of 2010 when Tam was sixteen and Wong twenty-eight. There are many short episodes of performance, rehearsals, and interviews. Both young men are articulate and genuine; they talk about their daily lives, artistic and professional aspirations, numerous disappointments and dilemmas, and most of all, hard work. Indeed the strength of the film is to let the subjects speak for themselves, with hardly any side narrative. The two talk candidly, sincerely, and seemingly with total unconcern for the camera, which speaks to the filmmaker’s remarkable interviewing technique. These sketches, though brief, also give the viewers a good sense of their lives in general, with Wong practicing calligraphy, Tam at school, scenes of busy Hong Kong street life, backstage chaos before a performance, and other scenes of local color. Minor characters also stand out. They include Wong’s teenage student, who really wanted to sing pop-song karaoke instead; Tam’s father, who supported his son whole-heartedly; and Tam’s backstage volunteer assistant, who deeply and genuinely cared for her young master. Wong’s mother does not appear in the film, but her presence is deeply felt because Wong talked about her in a loving way, though we sense...