Having crafted an unlikely hit from a low-budget portrait of gangsters and grifters chasing a gem in grimy urban China, Ning Hao is treating his success with the cynicism of one of his anti-heroes.
"I'm always being interrupted by endless phone calls and interviews," the director said. "I'm very tired."
After a month of exposure following his debut Chinese mainland release, Crazy Stone, Ning needed a few sips of soft drink to perk up during his interview.
Since opening on June 30, Ning's dark farce has become China's most successful homegrown release this year, with box office takings exceeding US$2 million.
Not that Ning, 29, could brag about it. The director was blissfully ignorant of how his film was doing, when asked.
Still, he was glad that his movie made for just 3.5 million yuan (US$439,300) had been "accepted" by most of the audience, despite the rapid-fire dialogue delivered in a tangy dialect that calls for subtitles even for Chinese audiences.
"Shanghai people didn't love it, though," he said. "They don't really like hearing other regional dialects."
Tellingly, box office takings in China's most westernized city have been relatively low, with Shanghai filmgoers largely resisting the film's homespun charm.
Crazy Stone was shot in Chongqing a smoggy teeming port on the banks of the Yangtze River, and a city worlds away from Shanghai's global pretensions and chic sensibilities.
"It's about the reality of this crazy developing China and Chongqing being a microcosm of the country," Ning said.
"In this crazy city, there must be a lot of crazy stories ... Lots of contradictions and conflicts, class differences and wealth gaps."
Corrupt businessmen, unpaid factory workers and the blind pursuit of fast money shown in Crazy Stone may be common to many Chinese cities in the throes of breakneck development, but Ning's intention wasn't to educate or edify, he said.
"If it's a mirror of Chinese society, then it's like a mirror at an amusement park," he said.
The villain appears to be the stereotypical shaven-headed gangster found in Hong Kong movies, but his penchant for shooting chickens with a crossbow renders his violence more ridiculous than chilling.
Meanwhile, Bao, the ex-cop hero charged with guarding the priceless piece of jade in his boss' factory against a professional cat-burglar and a band of small-time crooks, struggles with urinary tract issues.
Many scenes take place in rancid toilets. And Ning's film skirts around the moral homilies that punctuate most Chinese films.
"The priority is to entertain. You have to make the audience laugh first," Ning said.
"I've known some thieves. They're not necessarily bad guys. I've known some government officials and property developers. They're not necessarily good guys."
Asked whether and when overseas audiences would have a chance to see his entertainment, Ning shrugged his shoulders.
Things were simpler nine years ago when Ning was living in a courtyard house in a Beijing suburb, he said.
"Back then things were a lot more interesting ... You had to do a lot of things for yourself," he said of his earlier, shiftless existence, eking out a living in the capital after moving from his hometown Taiyuan in North China's Shanxi Province.
Sleeping on a bed he knocked together himself, he dreamed of being an art designer in movies. But his neighbor, a professor in film at a local university, inspired him to try his hand at directing.
Another stint at university and two ponderous arthouse movies followed. Neither were released in China, but the second, Mongolian Ping Pong, caught the eye of Hong Kong acting heart-throb Andy Lau.
Lau's investment in Ning as part of a program to foster directing talent in China led to Crazy Stone, a movie which Ning said could be described as a tribute to Quentin Tarantino, Guy Ritchie and Serbian art house darling, Emir Kusturica.
Ning was vague about his future plans, but was certain where the appeal of Crazy Stone a film without big stars or gaudy special effects lay for local audiences.
"China has a feeling for entertainment, as America does," he said. "It shows that Chinese people do want to consume Chinese culture and aren't just satisfied consuming McDonald's."
(China Daily August 10, 2006)