I Love You Phillip Morris

Glenn Ficarra and John Requa

The story: Steven Russell (Jim Carrey) is an ex-cop who turns conman to support his flamboyant gay lifestyle. Busted, he is thrown into the slammer where he meets the love of his life, Phillip Morris (Ewan McGregor). They build a life together post- imprisonment, but Steven gets up to his old tricks once more. This is based on a true story and crime reporter Steve McVicker’s book of the same name is subtitled A True Story Of Life, Love & Prison Breaks.

The gay drama, Brokeback Mountain (2005), was about a furtive love affair that dared not speak its name. Even from the title of this movie, it is clear that there is no such restraint here.

There is a series of jokes about sexual acts in prison and the sexual aspect of the relationship between Steven and Phillip is not coyly omitted.

The raunchy humour is nothing less than what one would expect from co-directors and co-writers Glenn Ficarra and John Requa. The two were responsible for writing the scabrously funny Bad Santa (2003), which stars Billy Bob Thornton as an “eating, drinking, shitting, f***ing” department store Santa.

This is probably the film on their resume, rather than, say, Cats & Dogs (2001), which attracted A-listers Jim Carrey and Ewan McGregor to star in their directorial debut.

The rubber-faced Carrey is best known for his over-the-top manic energy in hit films such as Yes Man (2008) and Liar Liar (1997). But he has also proven himself to be a fine actor in more serious fare such as Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind (2004).

His easy affability is put to good use here and you end up rooting for him even though he is the crook. It is loads of fun watching him adopt different identities to pull off his hustling and jail-breaking escapades.

Exuding brazen confidence as a serial con artist, he reminds one of the light and sprightly feel of Catch Me If You Can (2002), in which Leonardo DiCaprio plays a conman on the run.

I Love You Phillip Morris, though, has a decidedly more quirky and off-kilter vibe. There is that bright and cheery musical theme associated with Steven and throwaway jokes are snuck onto billboards and signs.

For all the monkeying around, there is a positive and embracing message in there that happiness is something that everybody deserves.

McGregor’s gentle and vulnerable Phillip, complete with an adorable Southern accent, is a good foil to Carrey’s incorrigible Steven and their relationship gives the film its sweet emotional centre.

And while the title might be in- your-face, it also tells you where the heart of the film is.

(ST)

An image of Hong Kong film-maker Tsui Hark that has remained stuck in my mind is of him as a straitjacketed escapee from the mental institution going “Beeboobeeboo!” in the action comedy Part 2, Mad Mission: Aces Go Places (1983).

It captures in one indelible instant the 60-year-old as a madcap genius. Whether you think of him as more mad or genius depends pretty much on which movie of his you catch as he swings from one end to the other.

At his best, he is like a mad scientist who blithely blends genres to come up with movies that are original, visually arresting, funny and just a blast to watch. When the concoction works, his brand of anarchic energy is irresistible.

His directorial debut in 1979, The Butterfly Murders, mixed wuxia, crime and sci-fi. Peking Opera Blues (1986), about the adventures of three unlikely heroines during the chaotic early years of the Republic of China, deftly married action, comedy and Peking opera. It has been widely hailed as his masterpiece.

He has also demonstrated a knack for casting the right actor in the right role.

The wide-eyed Sally Yeh was a hoot as a naive country girl in the war-time musical comedy Shanghai Blues (1984) and as the daughter of an opera troupe leader in Peking Opera Blues.

Sometimes, he would see something no one else did in an actor and it would turn out to be spot on.

Brigitte Lin was best known for playing lovelorn heroines in a string of tearjerkers in the 1970s. Yet he cast her as a tomboy who dresses in men’s clothes in Peking Opera Blues. Transgender parts would later become something of a calling card for her in roles such as a castrated male sorcerer in Swordsman II (1992).

When he felt like doing it, he could offer some exhilarating action sequences.

The fantasy wuxia flick Zu: Warriors From The Magic Mountain (1983) featured groundbreaking special effects for Chinese-language cinema then. Watching screen idols Lin and Adam Cheng duel on flying elephant statues was just the coolest thing ever for a primary school kid, even if the ambiguities of gender, identity and morality all flew over my head.

In the early 1990s, he made the Once Upon A Time In China gongfu series. True, the action sequences in the furiously paced and inventive flicks about folk hero Wong Fei Hung, played by Jet Li, were not choreographed by him but he captured them with economy and flair.

Later that decade, Tsui seemed to lose focus with a detour to Hollywood.

Both critics and fans hated Double Team (1997), a buddy action film with the Muscles from Brussels Jean-Claude Van Damme and one-time basketball star Dennis Rodman, and Knock Off (1998), in which Van Damme plays a fashion industry rep who ends up fighting terrorism. Even a one-line summary of these films alone sounds alarmingly bad.

If his Hollywood misadventure could be blamed on the lack of total creative control – a common complaint among Hong Kong film-makers who are used to having the final say – there is a criticism he will find harder to dodge, that he has resorted to sequels and retreads far too often.

He helmed the gangster flick A Better Tomorrow III (1989) as well as Once Upon A Time In China parts I, II, III and V.

To be fair, a sequel is not in and of itself a bad thing and the second instalment of Once Upon A Time In China is widely regarded as the most brilliant entry in the series.

But the lacklustre sci-fi actioner Black Mask 2: City Of Masks (2002) and the cliched and exaggerated humour of All About Women (2008), originally meant to be an update of Peking Opera Blues, give sequels the bad name they deserve for being unimaginative and mercenary.

With his latest, the compelling Tang dynasty whodunnit Detective Dee And The Mystery Of The Phantom Flame, he is back in form. It is hard to say if this is part of an upward trajectory since the man has had more ups and downs in his career than a gymnast on a trampoline.

According to reports, American auteur Quentin Tarantino said Peking Opera Blues was either one of the greatest films ever made or one of the craziest.

When it comes to Tsui Hark, either, or both, could be true.

(ST)

Detective Dee And The Mystery Of The Phantom Flame

Tsui Hark

The story: The construction chief in charge of building a monumental female Bodhisattva statue mysteriously bursts into flames and dies. Taking place as it does before her coronation, the formidable empress Wu Zetian (Carina Lau) suspects that something is afoot. She summons Dee Renjie (Andy Lau), whom she imprisoned eight years ago for defying her, back to the capital and charges him with solving the case.

Judge Dee (630-700) was a historical figure who served as a high-ranking official during the Tang dynasty in China. He was later the star in a series of 25 crime fiction novels written by a Dutch diplomat, Robert van Gulik (1910-1967), who was fascinated by the magistrate detective.

The movie is set several years after the conclusion of van Gulik’s series and is based on an original story by Taiwanese film-maker Chen Kuo-fu.

There is something satisfyingly old-school about the premise, which sounds like a Hardy Boys or Sherlock Holmes puzzler.

While Tsui Hark has a good grasp of the mystery thriller genre, he also makes it his own by injecting the film with his trademark touches.

The supernatural element plays a big part in the film. More than just a plot device, it helps to create an ominous mood, helped by the X-Files-like musical cues.

It is also an opportunity for a talking deer to show up. Clearly, Tsui relishes such a surreal sight. Not content with a serenely talking mystical deer, he later ups the ante with a spectacular scene of deer in attack mode.

Gender identity and conflict, another Tsui trademark, is played out on different levels. For example, Li Bingbing, who plays the empress’ right-hand woman Jing, plays both dashing lad and icy beauty.

There is also the fact the story is set before the inauguration of China’s lone female emperor and there is plenty of male anxiety over a woman assuming power.

If this sounds a little heavy-handed, rest easy. What Tsui has delivered above all is an engaging romp with visual flourishes and lots of twists and turns.

Even the movie’s star, Lau, seems to be enjoying himself and turns in a relaxed performance.

Given that Dee Renjie’s colourful origins provide plenty of source material for Hong Kong film-maker Tsui to work with, the prospect of a series of Detective Dee mysteries is definitely delightful.

(ST)

To Hebe

Hebe Tien

The Next Chapter

Chase Chang Jay

They both started out as part of Taiwanese music groups, but are now striking out on their own.

Hebe Tien is still onethird of the popular girl group S.H.E, while Chase Chang Jay, formerly of the quartet Nan Quan Mama, has made a more definite split.

Tien’s To Hebe is no slapdash effort. A carefully engineered debut, it ropes in some of Mandopop’s top composers and lyricists, including Sandee Chan, Derek Shih, Lin Xi and Chen Hsiao-hsia.

Her sweet, disposable voice fares better on uncluttered pop numbers that don’t tax it, such as A Condominium With No Attendant and You’re Too Much.

One of the album’s highlights is Love!, about a daisy chain of relationships ending in a failure to connect: “I love you, you love her, she loves her, she loves him/You love me, I love him, He loves him, He loves her/Why does no one love each other in this world, why is everyone unhappy in this world/Why does everyone love someone else in this world, but not themselves?”

This is more adult fare, compared to the sometimes kiddy and playful pop S.H.E churn out. Kudos to Tien for trying something different, even venturing into indie rock, with I Think I Won’t Love You, and jazz, with Super Mary.

I can’t shake the feeling, though, that a better set of pipes could have knocked this out of the park.

Chang Jay’s vocal stylings bring to mind Mandopop superstar Jay Chou’s, though Chang’s diction is a little suspect at times.

But he definitely leaves his own stamp on the songs here, having written both lyrics and music for most of them.

The autobiographical lyrics raise a smile on the title track: “Dad and Mum tell me to endure, don’t think of acting in an idol drama with your looks”.

He also refers to advice he got from Chou, who was Nan Quan Mama’s mentor: “Chieh-lun, he tells me, you’re the one writing the songs, don’t ever lose yourself in order to be popular”.

The line-up reveals that the personal makes for stronger material such as on I Won’t Listen, while generic-sounding tunes such as Firefly do nothing for Chang. He also shows that he can write commercial hits with Repeat Broadcast.

Both Chang and Tien prove they have something different to say. Going solo, in their cases, was no mere ego-stroking exercise.

Heaven And Earth

Huang Wen-hsing

The likes of Jody Chiang may still determinedly peddle old-school Minnan pop, but rock groups such as Mayday and sodagreen are taking it in a different direction.

Boyish-looking newcomer Huang Wen-hsing, who placed second in the first season of the Super Idol singing competition in 2008, brings a pop sheen to the genre. Unfortunately, he does not take it far enough.

Opener Hook My Heart kicks off promisingly with a rock riff, but then settles back into a dated arrangement. More successful, though, are the catchy duet In Two Minds and the sprightly Half A Lover. But, it is Wooden Love Song, co-written by androgynous popster Chang Yun-jing, that is most promising, with its refreshing acoustic pop vibe.

Given that this is subtitled Vol. 1, one hopes that Huang will take off in the direction of acoustic pop for his follow-up.

(ST)

Legend Of The Fist: The Return Of Chen Zhen

Andrew Lau

The story: In turbulent 1920s Shanghai, Qi Tianyuan, a wealthy entrepreneur, emerges out of nowhere and soon becomes a partner in the city’s hottest nightspot, Casablanca. He is none other than the legendary fighter Chen Zhen (Donnie Yen) under an assumed identity. Chen was presumed dead after he avenged his mentor’s death by wiping out the members of a Japanese dojo (training school) several years ago. This time he is part of the anti-Japanese resistance movement.

Donnie Yen is a highly skilled martial arts exponent who plays a key role in a patriotic movement. Is this: (a) Ip Man (2008), (b) Bodyguards And Assassins (2009) or (c) Legend Of The Fist: The Return Of Chen Zhen?

The answer is: all of the above.

The characters’ names and the specifics of the plot change, but it sometimes seems that Yen just keeps playing variations of the same role.

He has even played Chen before, in the 1995 Hong Kong television series Fist Of Fury. And, yes, the title is the same as the seminal big-screen Fist Of Fury (1972), in which action superstar Bruce Lee played Chen.

It explains why, in the big showdown, Yen suddenly emulates Lee’s yelps and whelps as he dispatches an entire school of Japanese martial arts students. But the homage is clumsily handled and it skirts close to parody instead.

Yen is not the only one repeating himself in this film. The languorously sexy Shu Qi played a smoky-eyed nightclub singer in Blood Brothers (2007) and gets a chance to be slinky on stage here again.

The fact that roles echo one another would not be a problem if they were memorable and well-crafted. Unfortunately, this is not the case here.

This is both the fault of Gordon Chan’s patchy script and director Andew Lau, who co-directed the masterful thriller Infernal Affairs (2002). Here, he flounders. He does not have a firm grasp of the tone, which lurches from overly dramatic to unintentionally funny.

The swelling music score at key moments feels intrusive, the injection of comic relief with Huang Bo as a bumbling cop feels out of place and Chen turning into a one-man Nazi killing machine in the opening sequence set in France during World War I is just too much to take. Oh, and later in Shanghai, he randomly ends up as a masked crusader.

What is also objectionable is the push-button jingoism that film-makers reach for in film after film from Ip Man to True Legend (2010). If you want a movie about Japanese villainy in China, watch Lu Chuan’s harrowing City Of Life And Death (2009) instead.

Given the expectations one has of a Donnie Yen movie, perhaps the most glaring misstep in Legend Of The Fist is that the final fight is an anticlimactic affair.

Martial arts fans need not fret. With at least six more action flicks in the pipeline, they will not have to wait long for the return of Donnie Yen.

(ST)

Eason “Duo” World Tour 2010

Singapore Indoor Stadium

Last Saturday

In the middle of the track Tourbillon, Hong Kong’s Eason Chan paused, wrapped up in the moment. Then the silence, and the mood, was shattered by a shout of “Eason!” by an enthusiastic fan.

The 36-year-old finished the song to a few more attention-grabbing yells and then said softly but audibly in English: “Shut up, I hate you.”

It is one thing for fans to show their love and adulation but it is simply rude to do so when silence is called for.

Chan later made light of the matter, wondering why there was such a culture of people interrupting songs. Even when he performed at London’s Royal Albert Hall, the same thing happened.

And it was always some “geezer or bloke” doing the shouting, never some lovely woman, “that’s what I hate”.

Still, despite the intrusion, he did a fine take of Tourbillon, a highlight from this year’s Time Flies EP, which reflects on the cruel passage of time.

In keeping with the Duo theme of the concert, Chan, who first appeared on stage in a two-toned suit, paired the track with Salon, about people’s attempts to capture moments in time through snapshots.

Lyrically, his songs have always provided food for thought, thanks to wordsmiths such as Lin Xi and Wyman Wong, and the exercise of matching up songs and drawing links makes them even richer in meaning.

Vocally, however, Chan was not at his best. There was a trace of tired gruffness at the edge of his sound and his falsetto range was simply not there.

Even so, an off-his-game Chan is still hands-down one of the best vocalists around.

That timbre, the resonance in his voice and an emotional truthfulness make it a treat to hear him sing live, whether he is tenderly navigating loss and heartbreak on Under Mt Fuji or delivering gothic drama on Flamboyant.

On tracks such as Man And Car and a cover of Jacky Cheung’s Messed Up Hair, the audience got to see his playful side. It also came through in his costumes, including one white outfit that crossed an oversized pyjama T-shirt with baggy hip-hop pants.

That ebullient and child-like side of him was particularly apparent in his banter.

At one point, he excitedly recounted, in a meandering and sometimes difficult-to-understand anecdote, about odd accents and phrases, cracking himself up and leaving guest star Tanya Chua more than a little perplexed.

They shared the stage on How Much, written by the local singer-songwriter and taken off his last Mandarin album, Fifth Floor’s Happiness (2009).

Chua then performed her hit ballad Darwin, a track she said she had written for Chan but which he never sang.

The evening ended with an encore of Chan’s old hits, a reworked rock version of Backpack and the elegiac Next Year Today.

Despite the less-than-perfect voice, it had been an evening filled with memorable moments.

It was as he had promised when he covered a Roman Tam classic – Good Songs For You. Though to be more accurate, it would be Good Singer For You as well.

(ST)

Life Experiment 101

The Freshman

Olivia Live

Olivia Ong

Come Closer With...

Tay Kewei

Who will be the next Stefanie Sun, Tanya Chua or 2 Girls of the local music scene? These women are certainly giving it a shot.

Instead of going solo, Project Superstar’s Chen Diya and Carrie Yeo have teamed up to form The Freshman.

On their own, Chen’s lower, huskier voice on tracks such as Polaroid is reminiscent of Sun’s. Yeo’s lighter tone on the song 1924, meanwhile, brings to mind Taiwanese songbird Wan Fang.

Blending the two voices together was a smart decision as it helped both to stand out from the crowd. From the breezy guitar pop of Little Actions to aching love ballad Too Transparent to the jaunty rock of Life Experiment, Chen and Yeo prove their versatility.

They are disarmingly earnest on Standard Answer: “The market’s really terrible/

But musicians aren’t fools/Even if it’s just $3.50 in the pocket/Who cares about sales, just sing my own style” and charmingly gauche on the album closer: “Can’t buy back happiness, can’t draw on a smile/

Casually have a fart/Silence can be chemistry as well”.

With bonus points for contributing to some of the music and lyrics, this clutch of consistently strong songs propels them ahead of the competition.

From freshmen, we move on to sophomore efforts, though, strictly speaking, Olivia Live is not a brand new record. It is a live recording of material from her first album, which means that the same strengths and weaknesses apply. Most egregiously, the disturbingly cheerful version of Luka, about child abuse, remains.

Things improve, though, when Ong warbles The Little Nyonya theme song Like A Swallow. She should definitely take on more Mandarin material because even though her diction is a little raw, her pipes are more distinctive then. The problem with some of the English covers is that they are just too safe and border on blandness.

For her full-length debut, Tay Kewei, back-up singer to the stars, has chosen to do a mixture of covers and original material.

I had certainly hoped for more of the latter after a taste of it on the EP Keep!, but, at least, some of the songs she chooses to reinterpret are a tad unexpected, including Five For Fighting’s Superman (It’s Not Easy) and the Japanese number Friend. And her warm and laid-back style is showcased beautifully on the Coldplay ballad, The Scientist.

Still, it would have been nice to hear more from the songwriter herself who contributed on several tracks, including the eco-quirky Plastic Mannequin Love as well as the Mandarin numbers, This Too Shall Pass and So In Love.

It is still too early to say who is ready to take over the mantle from Singapore’s top popsters but, for sure, some are showing the potential to come close.

(ST)

I Love You Too

Daina Reid

This is yet another dismal attempt at what passes for romantic comedy nowadays. The film is much like other Hollywood offerings such as Failure To Launch (2006) and it might as well be subtitled Immature Men And The Gorgeous Women Who Inexplicably Love Them.

Yvonne Strahovski of the spy-comedy series, Chuck, is the luckless lass Alice here. While the Englishwoman stays on in Melbourne for her boyfriend Jim (Australian actor Brendan Cowell, both below), he cannot even bring himself to say “I love you” after three years.

To fill up the overlong running time, the couple is surrounded by an assortment of lesser and not very interesting characters, ranging from odious best friend to comforting co-worker.

Mostly, the film is a tedious bore and the only development of any note is a subplot with Peter Dinklage (from 2003’s The Station Agent) playing a character infatuated with a beautiful model way out of his league.

(ST)

Precious

Karen Mok

The Secret That Can't Be Kept

Terri Kwan

Songs: Bonds, With These Hands

Kousuke Atari

To sing is to convey a certain emotion or mood. When it comes to different tracks, singers sometimes have to take on different roles.

This could certainly be one reason why actors cross over to singing and vice versa.

Hong Kong’s Karen Mok made her debut in film in 1989 and on record with a self-titled Cantonese disc in 1993. Her first Mandarin record, To Be, followed four years later.

I was not a fan of her voice at first as it had a gruffness to it and seemed rather raw. And when she sang in Mandarin, there was that discernible Cantonese accent.

Over time, though, the distinctive qualities of her pipes have been put to good use, particularly on last year’s excellent covers album Aftertaste, which earned Golden Melody nominations for Best Mandarin Album and Best Mandarin Female Singer.

Precious is a measure of Mok’s growth as a songwriter as she composed all the tunes here.

And she has never sounded as sweet and tender as she does on the title track, for which she also co-wrote the lyrics: “Gently caressing your head, go to sleep/I’m in your dreams/No matter where you wake/Baby/I’ll remember you”.

While Mok has flitted between celluloid and disc for over 15 years now, The Secret That Can’t Be Kept is Taiwanese actress Terri Kwan’s debut album.

Last seen as the elegantly unhappy Ouyang Qianjun in the drama Prince Of Tears (2009), she morphs into a dance-pop diva here. Some tracks, including Can’t Turn It Off and Win My Heart, are agreeably fun but others, such as I’m Not A Princess, feel forced and venture too close to twee.

Kwan should bear in mind that the same principle applies to both choice of songs and poses for the lyric booklet: Quirky is good, cutesy is bad.

Crossing over in the opposite direction is Japan’s Kousuke Atari, currently the go-to guy for cameos in Taiwanese indie films including Cape No. 7 (2008) and this year’s Taipei Exchanges.

The Okinawan started out with shima-uta (island song) folk music and his sound became more pop when he signed up with the major Epic Records label in 2006.

One can certainly still see the island boy in his albums though. His unusual inflections remain and they are a trademark of his soulful singing style.

There are also frequent references to the wind and sky and the gentle lyricism of ballads such as Bonds, With These Hands and The Sky Is The Sky feel like a balmy breeze blowing through a tropical island.

(ST)

Love Cuts

Gerald Lee

The story: Sissy (Zoe Tay) is a cheerful seamstress, a loving wife to her husband Wai Mun (Kenny Ho) and a caring mother to their two children. Things seem perfect until she discovers a lump in her left breast. As fate would have it, she later strikes up a friendship with Kristy (Christy Yow), a sexy model facing a crossroad of her own.

There is just something about Sissy. Her friends, fellow shopkeepers and customers adore her, she has a loving relationship with her restaurant manager husband and her daughter looks up to her. The son is a little prickly, but then again, he is going through a teenage phase.

And why should they not love her? She is a skilled seamstress who will take on last-minute jobs for desperate clients and also sew on the ripped-off shirt pocket of a little schoolboy standing forlornly at her shopfront. She buys food for everyone within a 500m radius on her way to work and has a kind word for everyone.

The woman is practically a saint. And that is a problem.

She is clearly being set up for some tragedy to befall her and when illness strikes, it threatens to turn into a “why do bad things happen to good people” melodrama.

It is also difficult to identify with someone so unwaveringly admirable. Aside from one episode in which she has a brief emotional breakdown, Sissy bears her cancer stoically and even offers a helping hand to Kristy (a distractingly dubbed- over Christy Yow), who just happens to moodily wander into her store.

This is MediaCorp actress Zoe Tay’s second turn on celluloid after the drama mystery The Tree (2001) but it is unlikely to help her break out on the big screen.

True, she manages to bring some down-to-earth likeability to a character who is in danger of being too good to be true. She also goes the deglamorising route by shaving her eyebrows and wearing a skullcap but there is only so much she can do given the restrictions of the role.

Despite the potential for emotional and heart-tugging scenes given the subject matter, the film often feels flat and draggy. The bigger sin, though, is the three endings one has to sit through since director Gerald Lee had no idea how to conclude the movie.

There is no doubting that the script by former deejay Danny Yeo and playwright Lee Shyh Jih is well-meaning. There is even an earnest little scene of Sissy giving a discount to a foreign worker after telling him she appreciates the hard work he does. It is nice to see that those who often get short shrift in our society getting a little screen time.

Unfortunately, when it comes to the movies, nice and earnest just do not cut it.

(ST)

Watching polo players thundering across a field against the lush backdrop of the rolling hills of Mongolia’s spectacular Orkhon River Valley, it is easy to imagine that Genghis Khan’s fearsome warrior cavalry had once raised clouds of swirling dust on these same plains. In their case, the ball could well have been an enemy’s head.

Even now, people continue to lose their heads, and hearts, to the sport.

Lifestyle retailer Shanghai Tang’s executive chairman Raphael le Masne de Chermont picked it up when he was 14, had his face smashed in by a mallet at 16, and is now giving pointers to his teenage son.

His passion for the sport has led to the brand supporting the revival of polo in Mongolia by contributing proceeds from sales of the Shanghai Tang Genghis Khan polo shirts as well as presenting the Shanghai Tang Polo Cup. Hence this reporter’s trip to Mongolia, sponsored by the Hong Kong-based label.

Last month, the Mongolians beat the international team of invited players, including some from the Singapore Polo Club, to gallop away with the trophy.

It was the crowning event of what was billed as the first international polo naadam. The term naadam refers to a festival and traditionally comprises the “three manly games” of wrestling, archery and horse racing. The biggest one takes place in Ulan Bator in July each year.

Mr Le Masne de Chermont works closely with German-born film producer and cashmere businessman Christopher Giercke, who in 1998 founded the Genghis Khan Polo & Riding Club, the venue of the polo cup.

Giercke claims to have re-introduced the equestrian sport back to the land which, along with Iran and India, is a contender for the birthplace of polo.

The club sits on pristine land leased from the national park property. It is located 360km west of the capital city Ulan Bator and is accessible by road, private plane or helicopter. For those who want to get away from it all, and do it in style, the club is certainly an off-the-beaten-track option.

Because of the remoteness of the area and the surrounding hills, there is no telecommunications reception. Bye, bye, Internet and text messages. Any communing here is with nature.

A visitor from the urban, cosmopolitan city of Singapore will find living in a ger, or yurt, a definite experience. There is no electricity, no running water but there is a wood-burning stove with a smoke stack poking through the top of the tent. And you have to stumble down the hillside by moonlight to get to the outhouse, which is a loo with a view by day and a slightly tricky proposition by night.

What you get in return for any minor inconveniences are dazzling vistas of a river wending its way through the grassy plains, fresh alpine air and a chance to gallop through those picturesque views. It is a thrill just to watch the majestic kites in flight, wings still and outstretched to ride an updraft.

The club has trainers available for activities such as riding, polo, archery and fishing, and it can also organise horse treks to explore nearby lakes and hot springs.

I probably should have gone for a refresher course in riding before galloping, okay cantering, along the river bank and ending up with chafed skin.

In keeping with the ecologically respectful ethos of the club, the polo and riding horses are domesticated, but they are free to roam each night instead of being tethered in stables. Also, there are no fixed buildings, roads, fences or electricity lines.

Summer is the best season to visit, weather-wise. Even then, there is a wide range in temperatures going from blazing hot during the day to winter-jacket cold at night. Once the season is over, the entire camp gets torn down and not a trace of human activity remains.

Which is not to say that guests are expected to rough it out entirely. Entering the large dining ger, one is greeted by the sight of a baby grand piano, trucked in over the grassy plains and then tenderly attended to by a piano tuner. There are also massage and bath gers, where one can be pampered after a long day of physical exertion.

There were pleasant surprises on the culinary front too, with chef Enkhee whipping up fusion dishes such as mutton paella and mushroom risotto. It was also a bit of a relief since traditional Mongolian foods such as the slightly tart airag (fermented horse milk), the buttery clotted cream and the rock-hard cheese are definitely an acquired taste.

For those keen on a glimpse of Mongolia’s rich past, the ancient capital of Karakorum is an hour’s drive, on a bumpy road, from the club. There are several accommodation options here ranging from hotels to ger-type camping. The Lonely Planet website has a listing, though none of the places appear to have its own website.

The major attraction in town is Erdene Zuu, probably the oldest surviving Buddhist monastery in Mongolia. It was built in 1585, escaped destruction under communist rule and is an active place of worship today.

The Hambo Lama (head lama) here is just 33 and he wants to see the faith grow in the decades to come. Buddhism is a calling for the man whose grandfather was a monk. He remembers visiting Erdene Zuu as a young boy: “It felt good, that this was my place.”

The faith has deep roots in the country and is closely linked to Tibetan Buddhism. This can be seen in the architecture, including in details such as the ubiquity of prayer wheels, and in certain practices, such as prostration, where devotees get down on their knees before lying flat on the ground with arms outstretched.

At the Gandantegchinlen monastery complex in Ulan Bator, there are boards in front of the stupas and shrines for monks and devotees alike to purify themselves through that humbling physical act. As a concession to age and inexperience, boards for the old and for novices are tilted upward at an angle.

Improbably, the capital city is also home to a Louis Vuitton store. The luxury label’s appearance raised eyebrows in a country where incomes are still relatively low though some have embraced it as a symbol of how far Mongolia has come.

For a visitor though, its presence adds little charm to the ramshackle construction boomtown and its traffic snarls. After less than a day here, the wide open plains of Orkhon Valley glisten more enchantingly than ever.

(ST)

2010 Elva Hsiao Wow World Tour

Singapore Indoor Stadium

Last Saturday

It was only towards the end that the show began to live up to its title.

Taiwanese popster Elva Hsiao came on for the encore in a saucy red wig, an eye visor a la The X-Men’s Cyclops and a jacket top that radiated laser beams for the energetic dance number, Wow.

The high-octane finale also featured Confession as well as one of her biggest hits, Love’s Theme Song. The 31-year-old urged the audience to stand up and “shake your booty with me” and warned: “If you sit too long, you’ll get a sore back.”

The crowd of close to 6,000 happily complied and the evening ended on a strong note.

How different things were two hours earlier.

Hsiao managed to make an arresting appearance as an upside-down diamond descended from the rigging and then opened up to reveal the singer inside, togged out in a glittery silver outfit and sporting a jet-black bob wig.

She launched into the fast numbers Tomorrow and Shining Love and tried to whip up the crowd but her fans remained glued to their seats.

Things were not quite clicking and chief among the problems was the audio. There was too much reverb in the mix and when it got loud, it sounded as if it was just on the edge of being distorted.

Maybe the reverb was needed to shore up her voice which went flat a couple of times and generally failed to impress, particularly on the ballads such as I Love You So Much.

Another distraction was the mystifying series of short fantasy videos about a little Caucasian girl in a magic playroom.

It was meant to tie in with the title of Hsiao’s last album Diamond Candy (2009), but it was too much to swallow fortune cookie nonsense along the lines of “However, beautiful candies lose their colours easily” portentously intoned by a narrator.

Tellingly, songs from her first few albums were well represented and for many of her fans, those remain firm favourites even though Hsiao has now chalked up 10 albums’ worth of material.

The track that everyone chorused along to for the mass singalong karaoke moment was the ballad The Most Familiar Stranger. That was from her 1999 self-titled debut and it sometimes seemed like she has never quite hit the heights she did back then.

As the evening progressed however, Hsiao became more comfortable and it showed in her singing.

She delivered The World That I Want with much conviction, maybe because the song is particularly close to her heart. It was released in mid-2006 at a frustrating time for her as the release of the new album kept getting delayed. Ironically, 1087 was widely seen as a disappointment when it finally came out.

Sometimes, timing can be everything.

If she had her way, she would have wanted her record to see the light of day much sooner. If I had mine, I would have wanted her to hit her stride at the concert much earlier.

(ST)

Geng Xin

Han Geng

Opener Moths To The Flame sounds exactly like K-pop in Mandopop clothing. But unlike most pretenders, China-born Han Geng was actually part of a Korean boyband. And not just any boyband but one of the biggest – the 13-member Super Junior.

He left SM Entertainment over what he saw as unfair treatment and has now branched out on his own. Say No seems to be about his unhappiness as a K-popster: “Day after day, tiredness accumulates/

Lying down, I feel like a rock with nothing to keep/Where is the exit, give me a moment of freedom”.

Even on songs that seem to have nothing to do with the split, one is tempted to read more into the lyrics. Holding An Umbrella, for example, has him wondering: “What would my life be like if I had not met you?”

While there is certainly a novelty factor surrounding his debut release, the question is whether Han can carve out a sustainable solo career.

He might boast on No Logo that “I’m going international” but his voice as well as the material are not particularly distinctive.

Another question: Now that he has gone solo, does he still move like a Korean pop idol? Fans can judge for themselves at his upcoming gig at the Esplanade Concert Hall next month.

Wanted To Get Married Then

Jody Chiang

This is old-school Minnan pop and nobody owns it like Jody Chiang.

The Queen of Taiwanese music is a multiple award-winner for Best Female Dialect Singer at the Golden Melody Awards and her languorous, emotive style is best showcased in numbers such as Black Coffee. Still, an entire album of ballads about aching for love is a bit too much to take and even the metaphors are well-worn, often comparing a woman to a flower in bloom.

The change of pace in Aiyo Aiyo and Tango Tango is most welcome, though the lyrics, by Chiang herself on Aiyo, don’t venture beyond familiar ground.

Old-school classiness is dandy but jazzing things up a little will make sure that she won’t get left on the shelf.

Holidays In The Sun

Yui

The 23-year-old Japanese singer-songwriter’s fourth album kicks off with a tribute. Yui grew up in a single-parent family and To Mother is a sweet piano-backed ode to familial love.

The rest of the record ventures into electric guitar-propelled numbers such as Again and It’s All Too Much, while Shake My Heart and Gloria are gentler pieces which are a better match for her warm, sun-kissed pipes.

The bonus DVD includes the music videos for My Generation, Love & Truth, Namidairo and Laugh Away, all from her last record I Loved Yesterday (2008) as well as her debut single, It’s Happy Line (2004).

For those less familiar with her body of work, it gives a quick and handy overview of her time in the sun thus far.

(ST)

The 18 Martial Arts

Wang Lee Hom

Myself

Jolin Tsai

Two of Mandopop’s big guns go head to head, with their new releases out within a week of each other in Taiwan. So far, it has been neck and neck.

Wang Lee Hom, born in the United States but who is based in Taiwan, took the top spot on the album charts the week The 18 Martial Arts debuted, while dancing diva Jolin Tsai staked her claim to pole position a week later when Myself was released.

The more important question, though, is: Are they any good?

Wang’s disc is the more problematic of the two. On his 14th Mandarin album, he seems to be running low on ideas.

The singer-songwriter’s self-declared style of “chinked-out” music which he introduced in the album Shangri-La (2004) – mixing western genres such as hip-hop, rap and R&B with elements of eastern music – is no longer new.

Wang’s disastrous directorial debut feature Love In Disguise casts a large shadow over the album.

Right off the bat, opening track Dragon Dance incorporates chunks of movie dialogue, reminding one of that unpleasant viewing experience.

Things improve a little with the electropop and rap of Do You Love Me, which was also featured in the film. But its too-cutesy Mandarin title, complete with a heart icon in place of “love”, grates.

The ballad All The Things You Never Knew is meant to be a touching number but, instead, one is reminded of the chemistry-free and cringe-worthy romance in the movie between him and actress Liu Yifei.

If Love In Disguise was meant to boost album sales, the plan has backfired.

Jolin Tsai’s 11th Mandarin album is very much what one has come to expect from Tsai – perfectly serviceable, slick, danceable and disposable.

So what if she sounds decidedly less than stellar live and her dancing is slicker in music videos than on stage?

Thanks to technology’s wonders, it’s all good on disc even when she’s pilfering the synth line for Honey Trap from Justin Timberlake’s SexyBack.

For prime examples of what she does best, head for the slice of bouncy dance-pop that is Party Star, the breezily catchy Take Immediate Action and the slinky ballad Nothing Left To Say.

But while the album is titled Myself, it is hard to say what exactly Tsai reveals of herself. Beyond the pixels that is.

(ST)

The Stool Pigeon

Dante Lam

The story: Senior inspector Don Lee (Nick Cheung) enlists illegal street racer Ghost Jr (Nicholas Tse) to be his informant in order to nab the criminal Barbarian (Lu Yi). Ghost signs on as the driver for a planned heist and starts to feed Don with information. Matters become more fraught when Ghost realises he had previously crossed paths with Barbarian’s woman (Guey Lun-mei). Meanwhile, Don has his own demons to deal with.

They may be on opposite sides of the law but copper Don Lee and hoodlum Ghost Jr are really the same – they are both the walking wounded.

Don’s last promotion was for a successful drug bust, the result of an informant’s tip-off. That stool pigeon was found out and turned into a sitting duck as enraged gangsters tracked him down and hacked at him with choppers.

The guilt Don felt for being rewarded while failing to protect his source set off a chain of events that would further scar him emotionally.

As for Ghost Jr, life does not seem to have given him much of a break and the only thing he knows is cars and the world of illegal racing. While he is wary of Don’s offer to be an informant, he really has no choice.

He needs the money to save his sister, who has been pimped out to repay his father’s debt to loan sharks, so he agrees to be Don’s informant even though he does not trust him. Squeezed on every front, his is a lonely existence.

The pleasure here is in watching Nick Cheung and Nicholas Tse portray these two characters.

Roiling beneath Don’s placid exterior as a responsible and methodical cop are surging waves of rage and remorse that threaten to overwhelm him. Eventually they do in a bloody and shocking finale. And you see that arc clearly in Cheung’s portrayal.

He is matched by Tse, who has been a consistent scene-stealer in the recent ensemble films Hot Summer Days (2010) and Bodyguards And Assassins (2009). He finds a sweet, low-key vulnerability to the knocked-about Ghost Jr, particularly when he makes a connection with Guey Lun-mei. It is also nice to see her breaking out of the mould to play messed-up and ferocious for once.

Since it is Dante Lam at the helm, this is no sedate character study but a tense thriller with several taut action sequences worked in. This is familiar ground for the director who gave us Fire Of Conscience (2010) and The Sniper (2009).

Here, there is an emotional heft to all the brawling and battering. As Don and Ghost Jr become increasingly bruised, it is as if their damaged psyches are manifested physically.

Cheung and Tse had previously worked with Lam on the well-received action thriller The Beast Stalker (2008) and this is clearly a winning combination. In that collaboration, Tse was the guilt-wracked cop and Cheung, the sympathetic villain.

For his efforts, Cheung won both the Golden Horse and Hong Kong Film Critics Society’s Best Actor awards. If that was any indication, The Stool Pigeon could well be sitting pretty come awards time.

(ST)

Fried Rice Paradise

Singapore Repertory Theatre

Esplanade Theatre/Sunday

The secret to good fried rice is to make it with day-old cooked rice.

Apparently, this principle applies to musicals as well, though in this case, Fried Rice Paradise is a reworked version of a show that made its debut in 1991.

I had caught that earlier incarnation and the only thing I remember about it then was that it was not particularly memorable.

Good thing then that singer-songwriter Dick Lee, who wrote the book, music and lyrics, has almost completely overhauled the dish.

Only two characters from 1991 made it to this version – Bee Lean (Denise Tan), who makes a shiok fried rice based on her mother’s recipe, and her best friend Girly Danker (Candice de Rozario).

Instead of focusing on a middle-aged Bee Lean, the story is now set in 1979 and is about the young girl and her dreams of finding love and making her mark in the world.

Though she does not realise it, her neighbour and good friend Johan (Taufik Batisah) is mad about her. Instead, she is drawn to Hennessy Goh (Sebastian Tan), the son of nightclub owner Rickson Goh (Darius Tan).

To spice things up, Rickson has plans to redevelop the stretch of shophouses in the Jalan Calamansi area and needs to get Bee Lean’s father Choo Kew Teng (Lim Yu Beng) to sell his properties, by hook or by crook.

Despite the convolutions, the story is not particularly compelling since there is little suspense over how it will all turn out, while the characters come across as blandly generic or outrageously cartoonish.

What keeps this concoction bubbling along instead are the key ingredients of an easy-on- the-ear score, some likeable performances, clever choreography from Jeffrey Tan and a handsome and versatile set designed by Francis O’Connor.

The music spans a gamut of genres effectively, from the retro dance vibe of Disco Boogie Hustle Bump to the bouncy number Turning Twenty-one to the love ballad Stay. However, while a fun song, the appearance of Rasa Sayang, off Lee’s 1989 album The Mad Chinaman, in Act Two feels like an unnecessary diversion.

Meshing better was Denise Tan and her portrayal of the shy and gauche Bee Lean and Sebastian Tan as the louche son who has a change of heart about seducing her for his father’s ends.

In his first theatrical outing, Taufik seemed more comfortable singing than acting and there was a mismatch in the energy level between the two aspects. Also, it was hard to make out the words in his opening number, which was full of exposition to set the scene for the musical.

But in his solo numbers, the Singapore Idol winner was more in his element.

Meanwhile, stealing scenes as his feisty mother was veteran actress Rahimah Rahim while Darius Tan blithely mangled and massacred the English language in a nasally and over-the-top performance that became less funny over the course of the show.

The pacing was rather problematic as well. All that set-up by director Steven Dexter in the more enjoyable first half was followed by a jerky second act that meandered at some points and then felt rushed at others.

So yes, while the new version of Fried Rice is improved, it falls short of musical paradise.

(ST)

Weibird Debut Album

Weibird Wei

Another TV talent show winner, another debut. But there is nothing perfunctory about Weibird Wei’s record. Instead of immediately cashing in after emerging triumphant in the campus singing contest of the Taiwanese variety show Happy Sunday in 2007, he opted to concentrate on his studies first.

But he continued to write songs, for the likes of Rene Liu (Still The Same), Angela Chang (Again) and Claire Kuo (Understand).

The release of an EP in March last year whetted appetites with that distinctive refrain in Keep Waiting. While the syncopated R&B and slurred delivery seemed overly familiar at first, he managed to make the song his own.

With the long-awaited release of his first album, he proves that he is a singular talent to contend with.

Care has been taken from the song-writing through to the CD cover, a whimsical and classy black-and-white cut-out design that meshes well with the album’s vibe.

Opening number Did You Or Did You Not slows down the tempo and turns a simple question into a plaintive cry. It also seems to hint at Wei’s confidence as he urges you to “turn off the radio”.

Besides affairs of the heart, there is also the sense of a young man engaged with life on songs such as Stories and Reasons.

His is an appealing brand of unfussy guitar pop, one that complements the youthful wistfulness of his vocals.

When you have a stack of albums to be reviewed and there is one that you keep wanting to return to, that’s as good a sign as any that Weibird is doing something right.

Fu Good

Della Ding Dang

No, the “Fu” is not a misspelling nor is it meant to be a rude title. It’s simply the corrupted Taiwanese variant of Feel.

More importantly, the track works as a slice of chirpy dance pop. Just as well, since it is the only new track in this best-of package from the Taiwan-based Ding Dang. Also included are songs spanning her three album releases from idol drama Autumn’s Concerto theme song I Love Him to her love duet with Mayday’s Ashin, Fireworks.

A collection of hits boosted by one or two new tracks is usually just an excuse to milk more money from fans though in this case, the offering is more substantial.

There is an additional disc of material which sees Ding Dang covering both Mandarin and English numbers such as Chao Chuan’s I’m A Small, Small Bird and Whitney Houston’s I Will Always Love You.

Bird is a great song, as sung by Chao. Yes, Ding Dang has the vocal range to sing it but that aching vulnerability is gone, replaced by subtlety-free showboating.

And that does not make me feel good.

(ST)

City Under Siege

Benny Chan

The story: While searching for gold, a group of circus performers stumble upon an old cache of Japanese biochemical weapons. By chance, Sunny (Aaron Kwok, far right) manages to purge most of the poison from his body and ends up with superhuman qualities. The other four become freakishly powerful, mutating into creatures with claws and coloured hair. Predictably, both Sunny and the lead villain Tai Chu (Colin Chou) fall for a newscaster named Angel (Shu Qi, right).

The superhero film gets the Asian treatment but unfortunately, the end results are unlikely to be saving anyone’s day.

For a while though, it seems as if producer, director and co-writer Benny Chan is on the right track.

His “creation” myth is plausibly rooted in history, imagining that the Japanese conducted wartime experiments in Malaysia to develop killing machines.

After the exposition accounting for how Sunny and company end up with their powers, the action shifts to Hong Kong. Tai Chu and his gang are now wreaking havoc on the city with their outrageous criminal exploits and only Sunny is able to stop them.

This could have worked as a tight superhero versus supervillains flick. Unfortunately, Chan, who last helmed the action thriller Connected (2008), then proceeds to throw everything and the kitchen sink into the film.

There is the romance angle between Sunny and Angel and the spanner in the works, Tai Chu, who develops an infatuation with the pretty newscaster as he grows ever more hideous and lonely.

Then there is Sun Hao (Wu Jing) and Hua (Zhang Jingchu) of the special police, who are bent on taking down the criminals.

It is never explained how the two know about the mutants’ condition or, more problematically, why they are not immediately pulverised in combat with them.

And we are not done yet. There is also a cynical satire of the media and advertising industry when Angel gets herself appointed Sunny’s sole agent and proceeds to market the heck out of him.

This would have worked better if it was not crowded out by all the other elements, making the film sprawling and unwieldy.

The relationship between Sun Hao and Hua is supposed to be touching but we barely spend enough time with them to care. There is more time devoted to the Sunny and Angel tie-up, but Kwok, once again, is trying too hard and you can see the effort in his acting.

And then 90 minutes into the film, we get a treading water interlude of Sunny being trained by Sun Hao and learning how to deal with the mutants.

It does not even set one up for the final showdown with Tai Chu since there does not seem to be anything particularly specific or difficult that Sunny has to do.

Ultimately, there is simply too much going on and while the action sequences are competent, the pace slackens every time Chan chases after another sub-plot. Not even Superman can pull all these disparate threads together.

(ST)

White Soliloquy

Toy Factory

Esplanade Theatre Studio

To commemorate its 20th anniversary, Toy Factory has chosen to pay tribute to veteran stage and television actor Bai Yan, now 91 and retired.

At first glance, this seems like a strange choice given that he does not have a particularly strong association with the theatre company. But the playwright, Toy Factory’s artistic director Goh Boon Teck, has used Bai’s lifelong career as an actor to broach broader themes about acting and the state of the performing arts in Singapore.

In contrast to its other current production, the musical December Rains, White Soliloquy – a translation that plays on the Mandarin characters for Bai Yan – is intimate in set-up. The only props on the stage are a large dirty mirror and a few empty wooden chairs, while the weight of the show rests on Nelson Chia (above), the only performer seen on stage.

Yet the scope of what this play tackles is epic. There is the narrative arc of biography, beginning with how China-born Yan Boyuan was mesmerised by the travelling Yin Yue Music And Dance Troupe and then taken in by them after being roped in as a stand-in.

Chia, dressed all in white, is an engaging performer as he tells the tale, alternating between the roles of narrator, Bai and an assortment of other characters ranging from a dedicated fan in Penang speaking Mandarin with a Malaysian accent to a director on the set of a MediaCorp series with a strong Hong Kong accent.

What comes through most strongly is Bai’s unflagging spirit, which is mirrored in Chia’s indefatigable performance. Bai ekes out a living through the years of the Japanese Occupation, loses his savings in an investment after the war and then starts afresh, performing at several venues a night in order to support three families – his own in Singapore as well as his parents and his in-laws in China.

Through it all, he perseveres, holding on to the mantra that a man’s back must shoulder immense burdens before he can soar. The problem, though, is that Bai ends up seeming too saintly to be true.

Goh and director Jalyn Han also weave in vignettes ruminating on various aspects of the actor’s life. It was telling that some of these scenes provoked a bigger reaction from the crowd than when the story was simply about Bai, suggesting the biography portion could have been further tightened.

One such interlude was about a MediaCorp (or perhaps it was TCS then) A-lister, Cao so-and-so, throwing his weight about on set and generally behaving disgracefully. It certainly piqued interests and ears pricked up.

At one point, Chia started reflecting on his own experiences as an actor, adding yet another facet to the piece. What was rather jarring however was the diatribe against clueless bureaucrats and the constant struggle to justify spending on the arts. While the tirade did raise a few laughs, it ultimately felt out of place.

One caveat for those planning to catch the production. It is largely in Mandarin, with snatches of song and dialogue in other provincial dialects, and there are no English surtitles.

If you are caught off-guard, Chia’s musing about whether an actor’s dialogue is all in vain (bai le yan yu) will end up being unintentionally ironic.

(ST)

Hey!

Tuzi

Every Touching Moment

Stefanie Sun, Tanya Chua, JJ Lin, A-Do

JJ – A Night of Love and Music Live in Taipei

JJ Lin

Still on a patriotic high after the National Day festivities? Then lend your support to the local music scene by checking out these discs from home-grown talents.

Tuzi, meaning “rabbit” in Chinese, won the Channel U talent show SuperBand in 2008 and have taken the indie route in coming up with their debut album.

The indie vibe extends to the music as well, with definite influences from the British and American lo-fi, alternative scene.

Opening tracks Living Things and Forgot About It leave the strongest impressions while Little King works in a topical reference: “2010, everyone’s saying: ‘The outlook’s not good, everything’s not good.’/Furrowing brows, at a loss/How pitiful/What a bother!”

Overall, the vocals need more work and they are a little raw but that’s part of the charm here.

In contrast to the scrappy DIY vibe of Hey!, Every Touching Moment is a glossy, no-expense-spared production.

What better way to promote Singapore at Shanghai Expo 2010 than by getting our top Mandopop exports, from different labels no less, to collaborate on one song? Composed by JJ Lin with lyrics by Billy Koh, Taiwanese Eric Lin Chiu-li and the mono-monikered Venus, Every Touching Moment is a tuneful effort that does not overdo the sales pitch.

And that is certainly something to be thankful for. Okay, so it does work in the Chinese erhu and ethnic drums to slip in that multicultural Singapore message but nothing too jarring here.

At points, though, this feels more like a love song: “Don’t let love melt like an iceberg/Too late to turn back/With our perseverance/Embrace every touching moment in our hearts.” Even more subversive is the line which goes: “Watching the skyscrapers rise ever higher, my heart gets lonelier.”

Subversive is good but as a single, the accompanying 100-page photo book and DVD detailing the making-of process feel like overkill.

While he has to share the spotlight with Stefanie Sun, Tanya Chua and A-Do on the single, the stage is all his on the final Chinese pop offering this week as a dapper-looking Lin serenades a Taiwanese audience in an intimate setting.

Singaporean fans of the singer-songwriter will probably go green with envy after seeing this as a relaxed Lin natters away in between numbers, including Go! and Back To Back from his latest album 100 Days.

During the song Soy Milk And Dough Sticks, his supporters present him with a homemade cruller stuffed toy and even some soya-bean milk. Now that’s dedication.

Lin sounds great live and also takes on songs he wrote for others – A-mei’s Remember, Claire Kuo’s Wall In Your Heart and Cyndi Wang’s When You.

The DVD thoughtfully comes with piano sheet music for 18 songs written by him so that you, too, can stage your own cosy evening with Lin. It will have to do until his next concert here.

(ST)