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Press
Coverage
The
SUN on Sunday's VOX 28 JANUARY ,2001
James Lee, hard boiled
by
Danny Lim
Imagine if you will, the antithesis of Osman Ali: the all-kicking,
all-screaming, fire-bombing, Uzi-toting, secret-nuclear-kungfu-ninja-terminator
director who choreographs the action while suspended in mid-air,
as KLCC is ripped asunder by an apocalyptic explosion - the
dying embers of which our mutated grandsons shall bear everlasting
radioactive witness to. The scene gives you a very good idea
of what kind of director James Lee would sell his family jewels
to be, given the budget, the chance and the looniest of producers.
As a lifelong fanatic of that strain of hyperkinetic John
Woo-style action-ballet, Lee would have no qualms about dispensing
with the frivolities of plot, character and narrative if he
could inject his audience with a serum of pure palpitating
viscera. At least, that's what you're led to believe as Lee
describes his childhood cinematic fantasies - and from the
circumstantial evidence of his gun-heavy, gangster-fixated
short films.
'I'm a big action-movie fan,' Lee professes. 'I love kungfu
movies, John Woo movies, gangster movies... Sometimes I concentrate
so much on the action, wondering how they did this or that,
that I don't care what the story is about!
Bollocks. In his recent theatrical debut, Lee directs a 'liberal
adaptation' of Harold Pinter's Dumb Waiter. An early peek
of the play in an Actor's Studio Director's Workshop unveiled
a gripping character-driven performance
diametrically opposed to Lee's action-man inclinations. Instead
of gunplay, it was the interplay of bristling personalities
that created a show prickling with tension. Guns were cocked,
but no bullets were harmed in the production of the play.
Hostility was verbalised, never translating into the kind
of violence that Lee so passionately enjoys on screen.
Without any formal training, Lee had transferred much of his
cinematic instincts, honed during obsessive film-watching,
onto the theatre boards.
The dramatic turnaround came when his journey in search of
John Woo-dom took a winding path from hometown lpoh through
graphic design school to the Actor's Studio Bookshop where
he worked for a spell. There, he was introduced to a world
where acting is the best special effect, and verbal barbs
the most potent weapons. He also met Amir Muhammad, who cast
Lee in a leading role as a blur, benign suicidal in Lips to
Lips.
On
set, Lee was introduced to the cost-cutting wonders of digital
filmmaking. Fed up with making videos that hardly anyone saw,
Lee was inspired to make his first feature-length movie on
digital film, Snipers. This resulted in a multilingual ensemble;
three vignettes linked by a ubiquitous sniper rifle and starring
Huzir Sulaiman, Merissa Teh and Paul Lau.
Snipers is an experience in dirt-cheap, on-the-fly film-making.
A miniscule budget of RM15,000 (funded by family and friends)
meant that Lee himself pointed the camera, and actors performed
for free.
Sound-effects
were copped off computer games, toy guns were spray-painted
black, and the sniper's crosshairs was a rejigged PVC pipe.
His toughest task, though, proved to be writing the script
'I'm a crap writer,' Lee admits. 'That's why most of the time
I let them improvise and ad lib... a lot.'
And he admits that Snipers is rather thrifty with violence,
though not for want of trying. 'You need a big budget for
all the effects or else it would look ridiculous,' Lee clarifies.
'My dream is to one day direct a big-budget action-driven
film that will blow away everyone's minds."
For now, KLCC remains safe.
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