Timeless

Meeia Foo

A Love Letter

Gary Yang

Heaven Walker

Eddie Chow

Joe's Singing For You

Joe Cheng

A debut solo album is an artiste's calling card to the world - this is who I am, this is what I do. Which makes Malaysian singer Meeia Foo's choice of material for Timeless both audacious and puzzling.

The runner-up of season two of Super Idol, singing contest One Million Star’s main rival, has chosen to tackle classic songs.

The good news is that she has the pipes to pull off most of the material, delivering quite a heartfelt rendition of the Minnan track Life Is An Ocean and very competent versions of English power ballads such as The Rose.

But some of the covers feel utterly pointless: Pan Yueh-yun’s compelling Am I The One You Love The Most? is still superior, while no one needs a remake of Celine Dion’s My Heart Will Go On.

In contrast, Gary Yang wrote all the music and most of the lyrics on his debut solo album.

He is not exactly a newcomer, though, since he was a founding member of pop group Nan Quan Mama. Which probably explains this relatively assured outing where he tackles salsa rhythms on Havana and takes a light-hearted look at romance on tracks such as Oh Why and In Love.

His good friend, superstar Jay Chou, also chimes in on the chorus of the laidback Moonlight.

Yang’s strong Taiwanese accent takes a little getting used to, though.

Like Yang, Eddie Chow also composed most of the music on his album, whose electronic elements are a welcome touch.

Unfortunately, the title track comes off like a cut-rate Jay Chou rap and only makes you appreciate Vincent Fang’s lyrical prowess all the more.

The lone Cantonese track Together suggests that, Chow, who grew up in Malaysia and is now a Singapore permanent resident, is more comfortable in Cantonese than in Mandarin.

The bigger problem, though, is his tendency to waver off-key on a few occasions.

Idol drama star Joe Cheng’s foray into music banks unabashedly on his prettyboy looks. The five-track EP comes with an accompanying DVD that is just as long. In it, we get to see Cheng acting cute as he traipses around Ishikawa prefecture in Japan, getting the locals to wave enthusiastically at the camera.

Without the background visuals, the tedious music and Cheng’s thin, bland vocals cannot bear much scrutiny or repeat listening.

As a singer, the last thing you want is to be seen and not heard.

(ST)

Vengeance

Johnnie To

The story: After his daughter’s family is wiped out in a gangland-style killing in Macau, French assassin-turned-chef Costello (Johnny Hallyday, right) shows up and vows to seek vengeance. He relies on hitman Kwai (Anthony Wong) and his partners to track down those responsible.

Hong Kong director Johnnie To is a prolific but erratic film-maker. In the last few years, he has been winning awards for his testosterone-fuelled, cops-and-crime adrenaline pumpers such as PTU – Police Tactical Unit (2003) and Election (2005).

He has ventured more recently, with mixed results, into the genres of supernatural romance with the uneven Linger (2008) and light-hearted caper with the buoyant Sparrow (2008).

With Vengeance, he is back on familiar ground. In the first scene, guns come out blazing as a scene of everyday domesticity is shattered by violence.

There are several other slickly staged set pieces, including a beautifully shot showdown in a wooded area at night, with volleys of gunfire and bursts of gunflare piercing the quiet darkness.

Costello is played by French icon Johnny Hallyday, complete with craggy face and tired eyes which have seen too much. Despite the fact that he is reliant on Kwai for help, there is not much of a connection between the two actors, although Wong is reliable as a stoic and honourable hitman.

Simon Yam steals the show with a nicely extravagant turn as the flamboyant crook George Fung.

If only the story, by To’s regular collaborator Wai Ka Fai, had been stronger.

Some of Costello’s early behaviour, including scribbling notes on Polaroid photos of people, seems eccentric until we learn that he is losing his memory due to a bullet lodged in his brain from his hitman days.

The memory loss proves to be conveniently selective. At times, this film almost feels like a rip-off of that superior thriller Memento (2000).

At one point, a hitman asks: “What does revenge mean when you’ve forgotten everything?”

But it is a red herring here, a throwaway question that is never really explored.

At the end, Costello goes after the mastermind, despite memory loss having set in. Still, there is something touching about an old man with the odds stacked against him facing down an army of bodyguards as he tries to take out his target.

The question of whether vengeance was finally wrought is one thing, but as to whether cinematic justice was served – not quite.

(ST)

My Girlfriend Is An Agent

Shin Tae Ra

The story: Lee Jae Joon (Kang Ji Hwan) breaks up with secret government agent Ahn Soo Ji (Kim Ha Neul) as he cannot tolerate her constant lies. Three years later, they meet again when both are tasked to stop the sale of a lethal biological weapon to the Russian mafia. Lee is now also an agent but their identities remain hidden from each other.

My Sassy Girl (2001), My Wife Is A Gangster (2001), My Wife Is A Superwoman (2009) and now My Girlfriend Is An Agent. Clearly, Korean women are not to be trifled with.

The template was set by Gianna Jun’s overbearing Sassy Girl. She makes her suitor jump through hoops and puts him through the emotional wringer.

Here, it is model-actress Kim Ha Neul who takes on the alpha female role, a far cry from the fragile young things she played in TV dramas such as Piano (2001). She slips easily into the tough-on-the-outside character of superspy Soo Ji, who is still in love with Jae Joon despite him walking out on her.

Kang Ji Hwan, best known for the hit TV series Be Strong, Geum Soon! (2005), is a hoot as the enthusiastic, if bumbling, neophyte agent. At the same time, he has to deal with the feelings he still has for Soo Ji.

It is a treat whenever the feuding couple show up on screen as both actors share a genuine chemistry that gives their bickering that extra kick. They also swing between mellow vulnerability and self-righteous rage with comic aplomb.

A running joke has the two agents running into each other at the most inopportune moments during their missions and ends with them getting dragged into the local police station where their squabbling rapidly escalates in front of bemused cops.

When the focus shifts to the biological weapon subplot, however, the film becomes more pedestrian.

Director Shin Tae Ra’s blend of comedy, action and romance has proven to be a winner: His version of the Hollywood hit Mr & Mrs Smith (2005) topped the domestic box office for two weeks after its April release.

But beneath the light-hearted surface, one can also read the film as a comment on how difficult it is for a person to balance her professional and personal lives. Even if one is a sassy gangster superwoman agent.

(ST)

In the Footsteps of Stamford Raffles
Nigel Barley

The loveliest surprise you get from reading this book is perhaps learning that the founder of modern Singapore was a humanist and a humanitarian.
In stark contrast to most of his Western peers, he was concerned about the well-being of the local peoples and sought to implement in South-east Asia measures – land reform, abolition of the government licence for gambling – that would benefit them.
More proof of his genuine interest in them: Raffles was fluent in Malay.
On top of his administrative work in the region, he was also a dedicated scholar. He published History Of Java in 1817, collected specimens to take back to London and gave his name to the Rafflesia parasitic flower.
Nigel Barley writes: “His pride is that of a true botanist. No one else could be as proud of being identified with such a hideous growth that stinks of rotten carrion.”
All together now: For he’s a jolly good fellow, which nobody can deny.
But as Barley finds on his travels to the places that Raffles had been to – Penang, Malacca, Jakarta, Solo, Yogyakarta, Bengkulu, Bali, Singapore – Raffles is reviled as much as he is venerated, or even largely forgotten. At times, he is simply lumped together as part of a wicked colonial past.
There is no doubt whose side the intrepid writer is on, as he draws parallels between his modern-day travels and Raffles’ 19th-century travails. His engaging and observant account is part travelogue and part detective story, tracing what remains of Raffles’ legacy at each stop.
He also makes excellent use of contemporary third-party accounts, weaving in impressions of the man by Mr Munshi Abdullah, a Malay teacher. There is also a sprinkling of passages in Raffles’ and Lady Raffles’ own words.
One wishes Barley had spent more time in Singapore and served up more of his piercing observations, which are limited to a few choice topics such as nationalistic songs and a trip to Raffles Institution.
On a separate note, more attention should have been paid to the text, which is riddled with bizarre punctuation and spelling errors.
The scholar in Raffles would not have approved.
If you like this, read: Letters And Books Of Sir Stamford Raffles And Lady Raffles by The Tang Holdings Collection and John Bastin. Learn about the man in his own words from letters he wrote to his mother, cousin and uncle from 1808 to 1826.

(ST)

Spread
David Mackenzie

Ashton Kutcher acolytes, rejoice. The star of sitcom That ’70s Show (1998-2006) seems to be better known these days for being a Twitter celebrity and being married to Demi Moore.
So this film would be seen as a treat for his fans as he preens about as a beautiful boy in Los Angeles who uses his looks and charms to get into the beds and homes of rich lonely women.
For everyone else, the film actually gets off to a decent start as the self-aware and narcissistic Nikki (Kutcher) narrates the tale of how he reeled in his latest catch, Samantha (Heche in an underwritten role).
The potential for a scathing black comedy falls apart though when Nikki has a change of heart and falls in love with a waitress, Heather (the pretty but bland Margarita Levieva).
While Kutcher is fine as a shallow Lothario, he cannot muster the acting chops needed when the script wanders off unconvincingly into romantic drama territory. A pity that Spread did not have the courage to follow through on the conviction of its initial cynicism.

(ST)

It was the most enjoyable of concerts, it was the most disappointing of concerts.
While I was exhilarated by the Taipei Arena show by Taiwanese band Mayday, I was less thrilled with Irish rock stars U2’s gig at Wembley Stadium in London.
There were several key differences between the two shows, which reinforced my sneaky suspicion that when it comes to concerts, East is East and West is West and rarely the twain shall meet.
First and foremost, there is the impact of karaoke culture where hanging out with friends to belt out the latest songs is a popular pastime in major Asian cities. The lyrics of popular hits are quickly disseminated and ingrained. It is not much of a stretch then for fans to sing along at a concert.
At Taipei Arena, the lyrics were even thoughtfully put up on two screens, turning the event into one giant karaoke session. This meant that even less familiar numbers could be followed with ease and everyone could chime in during the chorus.
A singalong session might not be everyone’s idea of a great concert but the warm, fuzzy feeling it fosters is undeniable and irresistible.
It so happens that a singalong was also the highlight of the U2 show despite a much-vaunted 360-degree Claw stage which featured a wraparound screen with several tricks up its sleeves.
The screen was stretched out, lowered, raised, though I would have been more impressed if the entire contraption, which could have passed for an alien aircraft, had actually lifted off.
Instead, it was the heartfelt rendition of I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For by 88,000 people that proved to be a near-religious experience.
Which brings me to the point that fans play a big part in how enjoyable a concert is.
At Wembley Stadium, the long, snaking lines were for food and beer. At Taipei Arena, fans were more interested in queueing for concert merchandise and buying light sticks.
Asians definitely seemed to be more dedicated concertgoers compared to Westerners.
At almost every Asian concert, for example, even the colour of the light sticks is carefully coordinated, taking the lighter-and-cellphone-waving moment to a whole new level.
For a group such as indie band sodagreen, the choice of illumination is clear. In Mayday’s case, there is a story behind the choice of blue.
In 2003, after their compulsory stints in the army, the lads held their comeback City Of The Sky concert. Their fans in Taiwan decided to give them a welcome gift. They gave out blue light sticks in exchange for those of other colours and surprised the band with a shining sea of blue.
Since then, any, um, true-blue fan would know what to do at a Mayday show. Even if you are just a casual attendee, you are likely to end up with blue light sticks as the street-side sellers of concert paraphernalia are all clued in as well.
And all this careful coordination pays off. It is a sight to behold when a darkened hall is lit by one single colour.
The night I saw them, Mayday busted the midnight mark and the venue cut off the power as lead singer Ashin was in the middle of a phrase from the Hokkien track Fool. The curfew for concerts is actually 11pm and the band was fined for exceeding it for each of the four dates they played.
Undeterred, the crowd continued to chorus along and the sea of blue undulated unwaveringly.
The band finally left the stage at five minutes past 12.
There is something to be said for the Asian work ethic when it comes to staging concerts. Asian artists regularly put on two- to three-hour performances and in the case of Mayday, it was a thoroughly satisfying four-hour odyssey.
On the other hand, U2 delivered a 90-minute set, which is probably the average for a Western act. When R&B princess Rihanna performed at the Singapore Indoor Stadium last November, she was on stage for barely an hour. Some people took longer to travel to and from the venue.
Size also matters as much as length, though bigger is definitely not better when it comes to concerts.
U2 played in front of a record-setting 88,000 fans at Wembley while 15,000 people packed the positively cosy Taipei Arena for Mayday.
While a bigger audience helps to generate a greater sense of occasion and excitement, the law of diminishing returns quickly sets in. Wembley Stadium was so huge that even the video projections of Bono and gang seemed small.
Compare this to the deceptively snug Taipei Arena which actually has a greater capacity than the Singapore Indoor Stadium, which can hold up to 12,000 spectators. The Arena struck that balance between having a sizeable crowd and not alienating a fan from the performers on stage.
So I have mixed feelings over Mayday’s attempt to gun for an audience of over 55,000 at Kaohsiung’s World Games Main Stadium come Dec 5. Well, maybe they can just do that one show for the record books.
The issue of size extends beyond the capacity of the physical venue. Perhaps U2 have simply become too big.
There is too much at stake with each mega-concert, too many interests and too much money on the line. As a result, the 360° gig felt choreographed down to the last minute, with barely any time for spontaneity or building a connection with the fans.
And really, when it comes right down to it, I go to concerts in search of that human connection with artists I like. Without it, I might as well stay at home and listen to their CDs where I can always be assured of the best of times and skip the worst.

(ST)

Ronald Cheng X William So Live 09
Max Pavilion @ Singapore Expo
Last Saturday

Whoever put Hong Kong crooners Ronald Cheng and William So together certainly has a wry sense of humour.
After all, what links the two men is the stain of scandal. They were among the top male vocalists in the late 1990s but their careers were derailed by different instances of men behaving badly. Cheng went on a drunken rampage on a flight in February 2000 while So was busted for taking the drug Ecstasy in June 2002.
They are now firmly on board the comeback train and while their voices were a little rough around the edges, particularly at the beginning of the concert, they also showed that they could still belt it out and put on an entertaining show. After trading snatches of each other’s songs in a playful start, So, 42, took the stage first.
There is a light sprinkle of jazz in his songs and it suits his mellifluous voice.
His Mandarin numbers, though, tend towards the maudlin and the mawkish, such as Men Should Not Let Women Cry. Thankfully, there is less of that cloying quality in his Cantonese hits Don’t Want To Be Happy Alone and Feeling Sadder With Each Kiss.
So also proved to be a canny performer, endearing himself to the audience of 5,500 early on by walking off the stage and into their midst. He was quickly swallowed by a throng of ardent fans and, for brief spells, could neither be seen on stage nor on screen.
Before he launched into Old Love Is Still The Most Beautiful, he was careful to say it did not reflect his current state of mind. The divorced singer is dating someone in the fashion industry.
Unlike So, Cheng fared better in the Mandarin numbers, reflecting the fact that the 37-year-old had first found success in Taiwan.
His sensitively wrought hits Don’t Say! Love You and Don’t Love Me were warmly received and the crowd sang along at peak volume. While the Cantonese number Rascal is one of his signature songs, he pointed out that far fewer people sang along to it.
It was a good thing that both singers could deliver vocally as the bare staging and ho-hum lighting afforded little distraction. The piddly, half-hearted effects – brief flowering of flares and a slight shower of paper confetti – did not help either.
The two performers also took on songs by other singers during the two-hour concert. In a rousing finale, they fired things up with a couple of fast-paced Cantonese classics such as Anita Mui’s Dream Partner and Leslie Cheung’s Stand Up.
In the end, Cheng and So proved their pairing was not a joke but a viable combination.

(ST)

Accident
Soi Cheang

The story: Brain (Louis Koo) heads a small team of hitmen who engineer their killings to look like random accidents. When an operation goes awry, he thinks that someone is out to get him and his suspicions are focused on insurance agent Fong (Richie Jen).

Perhaps the thought has crossed your mind: Is your insurance agent a diabolical master manipulator or merely someone who is just doing his job?
There is more at stake for Brain than premium payments, though. His latest staged accident is successfully carried out, then something unplanned happens. A bus careens out of control, just misses mowing him down but kills one of his accomplices.
He smells a rat when he finds a link between insurance agent Fong and the client who ordered the hit. At this point, Accident suddenly turns into a film about a one-man stakeout operation and Koo seems to be reprising the role he just played in the surveillance thriller, Overheard.
We are supposed to keep guessing whether Brain is paranoid or whether there really is someone out to get him. Despite being nominated for the prestigious Golden Lion award at the Venice Film Festival, director Soi Cheang’s thriller is not fully satisfying.
In order to keep the audience wondering, he has to pull off a tricky balancing act. Brain has to walk that fine line between appearing unreasonably delusional and being plausibly suspicious.
Cheang gives tantalising clues that point us in both directions.
Brain is shown as being meticulously cautious when he returns home after a job, which is understandable given what he does.
On the other hand, one of his accomplices later admonishes him for being overly wary, saying that it is all in his head. Meanwhile, Fong’s overheard conversations could be coded to sinister effect. So far so good.
A key problem is the casting of Koo, who is not subtle enough to balance on that tightrope. Yes, ultimately the character is either delusional or reasonable. But while the actor has to maintain a consistent tone, he also has to leave room for doubt.
Given the complexity, Koo chooses to give us a sombre-faced portrayal that simply sidesteps the pesky nuances. Jen has the easier role here though he falters in a major emotional confrontation scene.
As a result, the flashbacks at the end of the film never achieve the weight of revelation. Uncertainty is an elusive quality to capture on film and Accident misses its quarry.

(ST)