For over one month during the year-end holiday season, giant posters of an Asian woman, with black hair flowing across a lily-white face of ruby lips and emerald eyes, were plastered in thousands of multiplexes across North America. 

 

It was the face of Zhang Ziyi, the Chinese actress who plays the lead in the US$80-million Memoirs of a Geisha. 　　

 

The same face also surfaced in numerous mainstream publications as she went on the de rigueur publicity blitz for this prestige project adapted from the Arthur Golden bestseller. 　　

 

Even though the movie itself, helmed by Robert Marshall of Chicago fame, was panned by many critics as flashy Hollywoodization with little substance, the stars received mostly favorable reviews. And Zhang was nominated for best actress in the drama category of the Golden Globe Awards. 　　

 

There is no doubt that Zhang Ziyi is perched on the threshold of a major international career. 　

 

It might be convenient to say that she has overcome a lot of hardships for her success and hers is a Cinderella story in the spirit of the geisha character she plays so convincingly on screen. But in her case, this would not only be a cliché, but totally untrue. Zhang Ziyi's ascent in the cinematic world has been more miraculous than the often seen rags-to-riches formula, and if the past foretells the future, the sky is the limit for this 26-year-old. 　　　　

 

Lucky streak 　　

 

Zhang Ziyi is the epitome of serendipity. Most actors would kill to get the kind of opportunities that came her way. 　　

 

While in drama school, she was plucked by China's top auteur to star in The Road Home, a luscious paean of nostalgia and a mood piece that anchors around her performance. Essentially she personifies the good old things of the bad old days, i.e. purity and perseverance - Chinese virtues consistently extolled by Zhang Yimou. 　　

 

At the time, film fans in China felt that she made the cut mainly on the strength of a vague resemblance to Gong Li. She did not have Gong's regal quality, but made up for it with girlish innocence. 　　

 

Her second role rocketed her on the international map when Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon became the sleeper hit of 2000. This time, the director was an ethnic Chinese with very close ties to Hollywood. 　　

 

Moreover, Ang Lee had a proven track record of making stars out of Kate Winslet and Winston Chao, and mining the potential of up-and-comers like Eliza Wood and Tobey Maguire. 　　

 

From then on, Zhang Ziyi's career has been one of pan-Asia as she tackled roles in Hong Kong kick-ass action flicks and South Korean box-office behemoths. She has also tiptoed into a couple of new directors' projects, with varying success, but shines the brightest when she returns to the familiar territory of Zhang Yimou. 　　

 

Hero and House of Flying Daggers wowed international audiences, further solidifying her no-nonsense persona and her unique blend of quiet lyricism and feisty athleticism. But Wong Kar-wai's 2046, also globally distributed, shows her in a good light by brandishing what Time's Richard Corliss calls her "flutter of erotic pouts and surrendering smiles." 　　

 

Zhang may have hit the movie-star jackpot a la Audrey Hepburn, but she had it coming. Four of her lucky-break roles - in Crouching Tiger, Hero, House and Geisha - demanded a physical agility that strongly favors her as she was previously trained as a professional dancer. 　　

 

The casting for Jen Yu, presumably her most crucial role in career advancement, had such behind-the-screen suspense that could constitute a psychological workout and juicy material for a future biopic. Ang Lee had initially meant to hire Taiwanese actress Shu Qi, who turned it down because the training he required would take too long. And Zhang Yimou's recommendation of Zhang Ziyi had the opposite effect because the personality she displays in her debut role is contrary to what Lee was looking for.

 

East-West divergence 　　

 

Western critics and audiences have taken to Zhang in a way they have never shown to any other Chinese actress of previous generations. People magazine twice selected her as one of the 50 "Most Beautiful People." Time magazine called her "China's gift to Hollywood" in a 2005 issue. 　　

 

In their eyes, Zhang embodies the Chinese spirit, especially Chinese women as depicted in a century of cinematic images, from The Good Earth down to Joy Luck Club, steely resolve belied by a China-doll fragility.

 

　　　　

 

One cannot say there are no other actresses who exude the same qualities, but Zhang burst on the scene at the perfect time, when the stature of China has been steadily rising and the nation increasingly captures the global imagination. In that sense, she has become the visage of the Chinese personality. 　　

 

And as such, she has been getting chances long denied her predecessors. Anna May Wong, the exotic femme fatale of the silent era, was confined to supporting roles; Joan Chen found roles scarce and mostly demeaning; and Gong Li was caged in art-house recognition. 　　

 

However, audiences in China do not see Zhang Ziyi in the same light. In the first few years of her fame, there was so much envy and spite among the viewing public that many simply despised her for getting everything on a silver platter. Some detractors even went to the length of fabricating photos of sex scenes to discredit her. 　　

 

In recent years, public opinions have taken a notable turnaround as Zhang builds her international reputation, which bounced back in the form of domestic influence. Now critics agree that she is "hard-working," but they still grudge her the confirmation of acting talent, except to say she has made "progress." 　　

 

"Her acting comes off naturally, but lacks sophistication or difficulty," commented Cao Kai, an editor at World Screen, a Beijing-based film magazine. 　　

 

If she wins an international award, it would serve to quell domestic criticism and earn her much-needed respect, some say. But other media reports suggest she has risen above the mudslinging because she has set her eyes on a global career. 　　

 

When Chen Chong changed her name to Joan Chen, it riled many feathers at home and was seen by many as a sellout. But times have changed. Now that Zhang Ziyi reverses her name to Ziyi Zhang, it has generally been an auspicious sign for her career. And many people, including those in the West, expect her to be a trailblazer for Chinese cinema in opening up a new global vista. 　　

 

"Behind her disarming youth lies the kind of street smart that makes the impossible possible," said an industry insider, who is close to her, on the condition of anonymity. "If anyone can achieve genuine Western stardom, she is the one to pull it off."

 

(Shanghai Daily January 19, 2006)