Fresh Chow
It's breakfast time in
Kowloon City, Hong Kong,and Chow Yun-Fat, one of the
region's hottest movie heroes, is enjoying
something he can't do in many places in
Asia: taking a public stroll without a
bodyguard. At the tiny local restaurant
where he stops off for fish balls and
noodles, Chow's entrance rates but a
glance. Later, at the food market, the
veteran of more than 70 films waves to his
friend the fishmonger, chats with the florist
and compliments an old woman on her
bright silk dress. It's not that no one
recognizes an emperor of the Asian box
office, but here in his own neighborhood,
explains Chow, 42, "people treat me like
their brother."
Now that Hollywood wants to adopt him,
Chow may have to adjust to the full star
treatment. The actor is teamed up with
Mira Sorvino for his American film
debut--and first English-speaking role--in
the just-opened The Replacement
Killers, a more-death-than-dialogue
action flick in which Chow plays an
assassin who, after a moral crisis over his
job, becomes a target himself. It's the
kind of role that made him a legend in
Hong Kong: a hit man with a heart, who
can empty a Beretta from each hand
without dropping a bead of sweat. But
Hollywood has more than gunslinging in
store for Chow. Though he began
studying English only two years ago, he's
already slated to star in a police drama,
The Corrupter. A remake of the 1946
classic Anna and theKing of Siam and a
romantic comedy with his old partner,
Face/Off director John Woo, are also in
the works. "His acting skills are
international," says Woo. "Women find
him elegant and charming, and men look
up to him as a hero."
Though he can count Oliver Stone
and Quentin Tarantino among his
admirers, Chow would rather spend his
downtime swimming with granny bathers,
as he calls them, in the South China Sea
(a morning ritual) than schmoozing with
starlets in the Hollywood Hills. On the set
of The Replacement Killers, Chow,
who is Buddhist, not only burned incense
every day but frequently offered to help
crew members move lights and heavy
equipment -- a novelty for Hollywood,
perhaps, but not for Chow. "In Hong
Kong we shoot like crazy,"says Ringo
Lam, who has directed Chow in five
shoot-'em-ups. "I always forget lunch,
and he always complains on behalf of the
crew." Lam credits that genuine
thoughtfulness for Chow's onscreen
appeal: "His expressions come from
inside. He has so many layers."
They were built up over a lifetime. Born
on the small Hong Kong island of
Lamma, the third of four children, Chow
spent his early years in a house with no
electricity, rising at 4 a.m. to help his
mother, a vegetable farmer, serve dim
sum to islanders before school. When he
was 10, the family moved to Kowloon.
(His father, an oil tanker seaman, stayed
mostly at sea and died in 1974.) Chow
quit school at 17 and worked as a
bellboy and salesman before taking
$7-a-month acting lessons at a local TV
station in 1973. During the next 14 years,
he appeared in more than 1,000 episodes
of TV soaps and dramas and made a
slew of dud films, while his personal life
spun out of control. In 1982 he was
rushed to the hospital after reportedly
drinking household cleaners in an
attempted suicide over a broken romance
with a Chinese actress. "I think at the
time I screwed myself up," he says now,
in careful but imperfect English. "I was
under a lot of pressure, and I had
love-affair problems." The following year
his six-month first marriage to Hong
Kong socialite Candice Yu ended in
divorce. "Both of us," he explains, "were
very young."
Chow's luck changed in 1984, when he
met his second wife, Jasmine, 38, through
a mutual friend. "It was love at first sight,"
he says. "She was just very pure and
innocent." They married in 1986. Jasmine
handles Chow's business affairs, a job
that has grown steadily since the 1986
release of A Better Tomorrow, his first
film with Woo and the hit that made him a
star.
These days his early traumas seem a
distant memory. In the $9.5 million
Kowloon home he and Jasmine share
with their five dogs, Chow relaxes by
tending his fruit trees or tinkering with his
four cars. But beyond the 9-foot stone
wall that surrounds their estate, the
teeming streets of Hong Kong are a
constant reminder for Chow of how far
he has come. "When I was young, I was
poor," he says. "Even though I've
become famous, I'm still the same
person. I still feel humble."
-- ANNE-MARIE O'NEILL
-- ANDREA PAWLYNA in Hong
Kong