The Web clip A Murder Sparked by a Chinese Bun made by Internet prankster Hu Ge has been denounced by the internationally acclaimed fifth-generation Chinese filmmaker Chen Kaige (Farewell My Concubine), but it has won a lot of support and applause from Netizens. 　　

 

Director Chen was so angry about this online parody of his beloved film The Promise, a US$35 million kung fu epic with three years in the making, that he has instructed his lawyer to look into the matter. 　　

 

The Promise has proved to be a box-office hit since its debut in China in mid-December last year. However, it seems to have fallen far short of the expectations of movie buffs, with criticism revolving around its farfetched storyline. 　　

 

"I am just one of the audience members who felt disappointed after seeing the movie," Hu says, adding that his picture is just for fun and was not intended to offend or mock the filmmaker. 　　

 

Actually, before the production of this 20-minute video, Hu was a penniless 32-year-old freelancer from Wuhan, Hubei Province. A former DJ and amateur videomaker, Hu spent 10 days editing the scenes taken from The Promise, dubbing the movie with funny lines and making it into an amusing TV crime report. 　　

 

The new story offers a fresh joking insight into the original movie. In the parody the characters become policemen, entertainment venue employees or criminals. Music from pop to rap to Chinese folk songs also cover the original soundtrack, and Hu has even inserted two commercial breaks between each section. So far the clip has been posted on numerous Websites and Internet communities and has notched several million viewers. 　　

 

"I hope this popular video can ring an alarm bell to many of today's filmmakers who take it for granted that magnificent scenes or stunning stunts are enough to satisfy the audience," says local movie fan Zhang Jian, who also claims to be a big fan of Hu and his creative videos. 　　

 

Though Hu and his video might face a lawsuit on copyright infringement, director Chen should see that the spread of the digital video on the Internet has been a big impetus for ticket sales of The Promise. Many Netizens confess that they went to cinemas to see the original movie only after they had seen the digital clip, mostly out of curiosity. 　

 

"Hu didn't make any profit of it," says a Netizen named Vince. "Likewise, it is hard to tell how much the filmmaker has lost. I think director Chen had better show tolerance to this fun and the joke." 　　

 

In fact, Hu is not alone. On his personal blog at sina.com, thousands of movie fans have expressed their determination to economically or spiritually support Hu in any potential lawsuit. Comments like "Hu Ge, just be yourself!" or "Go ahead! We're on your side" are everywhere on his blog. 　

 

"I am surprised and grateful for the support I have received from so many strangers," Hu says. 　　

 

After A Murder Sparked by a Chinese Bun, Hu has recently published his second short adaptation, titled The Empire of Spring Festival Transportation, with impressive clips from The Matrix and Stephen Chow's comedies. He also plans to make new Web-video recasts or original pictures but declined to talk about the details. 　　

 

Hu is not at the cutting edge of digital art. In the past few years, the popularization of easy video software has enabled many amateurs to produce or remix short films on their personal computers. Dreams of making a film can be turned into reality for many enthusiasts. 　　

 

Today, many Chinese Internet surfers still remember a popular mash up movie trailer called The Chronicle released five years ago, which recast a few classics such as Hong Kong director Wong Kar-wai's Ashes of Time and Chinese filmmaker Feng Xiaogang's Be There or Be Square as a comic stalker short film. 　　

 

Professor Gu Xiaoming from Fudan University, a noted scholar and movie critic, says: "The new era of amateur filmmaking and showing is already here and flourishing on the Internet. 　　

 

"Different from traditional film production, those digital shorts are usually made by ordinary Netizens in a casual and free style," Gu adds. "The authors are not famed elite directors, but they can definitely bring some fresh, innovative and vibrant elements to the century-old Chinese cinema." 　　

 

Gu notes that Hu's popular videos, along with writer Xue Cun's flash animation and Internet pop songs Mouse Loves Rice, have their origin in grass-roots culture. "Without any budget or stereotype, these works go out to millions and can always bring people surprises and fun," the professor says. 　　

 

Gu calls these Web movies "wovies," an emerging art form with a promising future and a trend in the future of entertainment. "People are no longer satisfied with accepting information passively," he notes. "They are urged to voice their viewpoints through the do-it-yourself recast. It is an interactive process between the filmmakers and the audience." 　　

 

Wang Tao, a 25-year-old movie fan, stresses that renowned directors should also learn to respect the young people who are likely to offer them fresh ideas and inspiration to break from their old modes of art creation. 　　

 

"The two sides can learn a lot from each other and reach a win-win compromise," Wang says. "And the Internet provides a big platform for those who have film dreams but fail to find outlets for their works at cinemas or on TV screens." 　

 

Nevertheless, there are some people who don't conceal their worries about the future of the "wovie." 　　

 

Chen Xiaochun, a postgraduate from Fudan University, says that this booming art form will probably loose appeal if the story-telling is monotonous or there is a lack of japes and jokes. 　　

 

"At first people will regard them as fresh and funny, but if there is no originality or changes to this genre, their novelty will fade away," he says. 　　

 

(Shanghai Daily March 16, 2006)