"In real life, I could never be like the girl I played in the film," said Shu Qi (
"If I were Vicky, I would have squashed the guy and left long ago. And I would never have come back to the relationship," said the willful Shu.
PHOTO: AFP
Vicky's boyfriend Hao-hao (
As one of the most prolific and most expensive actresses in Hong Kong and Taiwan, Shu said she would jump at the chance to work again with Hou, regardless of the payment and the time needed for shooting. "This is the most challenging experience I've ever had and I've learnt a great deal from him," said the 25-year-old.
Wearing a slim, gray-colored Chinese dress, Shu charmed onlookers at Manray Beach in Cannes.
"At first it was hard for me to play this role because I don't identify with Vicky and her suffering in a relationship and the environment of drugs and hostess bars," Shu said.
To prepare for the role, Shu did extensive field work in dingy hostess bars with Hou and the film's crew. "Hou was very good at making me get used to the role." After a month of hanging out in bars and clubs, "I felt like Vicky had entered my body," she said.
"I cried for two hours before shooting one of the scenes. And I began to hate Tuan even off the set. I almost threw things at him in one scene because I was so furious," she said.
This is Shu's second trip to Cannes, the first being for Vivian Chang's (
When nature calls, Masana Izawa has followed the same routine for more than 50 years: heading out to the woods in Japan, dropping his pants and doing as bears do. “We survive by eating other living things. But you can give faeces back to nature so that organisms in the soil can decompose them,” the 74-year-old said. “This means you are giving life back. What could be a more sublime act?” “Fundo-shi” (“poop-soil master”) Izawa is something of a celebrity in Japan, publishing books, delivering lectures and appearing in a documentary. People flock to his “Poopland” and centuries-old wooden “Fundo-an” (“poop-soil house”) in
Jan 13 to Jan 19 Yang Jen-huang (楊仁煌) recalls being slapped by his father when he asked about their Sakizaya heritage, telling him to never mention it otherwise they’ll be killed. “Only then did I start learning about the Karewan Incident,” he tells Mayaw Kilang in “The social culture and ethnic identification of the Sakizaya” (撒奇萊雅族的社會文化與民族認定). “Many of our elders are reluctant to call themselves Sakizaya, and are accustomed to living in Amis (Pangcah) society. Therefore, it’s up to the younger generation to push for official recognition, because there’s still a taboo with the older people.” Although the Sakizaya became Taiwan’s 13th
For anyone on board the train looking out the window, it must have been a strange sight. The same foreigner stood outside waving at them four different times within ten minutes, three times on the left and once on the right, his face getting redder and sweatier each time. At this unique location, it’s actually possible to beat the train up the mountain on foot, though only with extreme effort. For the average hiker, the Dulishan Trail is still a great place to get some exercise and see the train — at least once — as it makes its way
Earlier this month, a Hong Kong ship, Shunxin-39, was identified as the ship that had cut telecom cables on the seabed north of Keelung. The ship, owned out of Hong Kong and variously described as registered in Cameroon (as Shunxin-39) and Tanzania (as Xinshun-39), was originally People’s Republic of China (PRC)-flagged, but changed registries in 2024, according to Maritime Executive magazine. The Financial Times published tracking data for the ship showing it crossing a number of undersea cables off northern Taiwan over the course of several days. The intent was clear. Shunxin-39, which according to the Taiwan Coast Guard was crewed