Zhang Ziyi's defiant lips, they burn a hole in the movie screen, in my mind. Those glassy eyes. I love her when she's angry. I love her, up there, on the screen.
After her fame from Crouching Tiger, she went on a rampage with those credit card commercials and that Jackie Chan movie. She is a tea cup, taking in whatever role she plays. She has no value for me outside those beautiful kung-fu movies.
In House of Flying Daggers (Shi mian mai fu), she finally completes the romantic destiny she started in Crouching Tiger. The romance there was just an anecdote, a piece of trivia, that we all wished could have been the central story. Everyone loves a love story.
As Mei, she had two men fighting for her. I would have fought for her too. Zhang Ziyi is so beautiful.
But I don't like her toothy smile.
Long ago, when I started working, I had this cute Chinese officemate. She wasn't a headturner but she was so nice, and she was beautiful when she smiled. We went shopping together a lot and became fast friends. We both loved movies.
One Saturday afternoon, after a coffee date, I invited her up to my condo. It was a great, cloudy, cool afternoon. It was unusually bright in my room that time. We sat in my queen-sized bed and I shared my drawings with her. We ended up lying beside each other. In the distance, from somewhere, the sound of a bird.
It was a romantic moment. She was my friend, perhaps even my best friend then, and I haven't told her that I was bi.
I was so scared to look at her eyes. Her chinky, honest eyes.
But I did and I didn't do anything. What happened next was totally unexpected--I suddenly felt extremely protected and comfortable. I held her hand and put my head on her arm. I closed my eyes.
I miss her so much: have a happy birthday, you.
