My Chinese Movie Career

　　How I lived (and died) on Hainan Island

　　By Jamie Doom

　　When I was first approached with a part in a mini-series on Hainan Island, I took it. My qualifications were undeniable: When I was five years old, I had the part of Father Star in a kindergarten Christmas play - the lead role. I worked for weeks perfecting all the intricacies that a paternal glowing ball of gas might have, only to be stricken the day before opening night by the cruelest of childhood ailments-chicken pox. That night, a third grader, who was small for his age, read my part. My mother said his work as a star was second rate, and he certainly had no idea what it meant to be a Father Star. Since that time, I've jumped at any chance to act. In high school, I played a southern Civil War general and Tevye from Fiddler on the Roof in the same year. I later combined the characters and wrote a one act play entitled Yiddish Grits.

　　My part in the Chinese mini-series Ten Days and Ten Nights was a small one. In fact, the contract noted that if I spoke in the movie, my salary would be doubled. I knew they wouldn't make me say much. Before I signed the contract, I did some negotiating. I made sure that I was paid a set amount in cash at the end of each day. I made sure the filming would only be on the weekends and all work would be finished within two months. What I did not specify, however, was how long a day was, and what type of stunts I would be required to perform.

　　The television mini-series is about a country filled with greedy white foreigners (Iceland?) attacking a small helpless island filled with Chinese people (San Francisco?) to kill its ruler and steal its rich oil deposits. I don't know where they came up with this script (CNN?), but it worked. I play the part of a greedy white foreign assassin.

　　Every day, when I reached the set, they would apply generous streaks of green and black camouflage to my face, dress me in tight-fitting black fatigues, and hand me a plastic gun. This became increasingly comical the longer I worked on the movie. The camouflage was useless. My scenes were shot in the middle of a city, on two different boats, and in a dark, dusty, bomb shelter. I didn't blend in. In fact, wearing paint on my face made me standout more. If you are an assassin and really want to kill the ruler of San Francisco, you don't go sneaking around Fisherman's Warf in the daylight sporting full camouflage. You read poetry in a coffee house and wait till he shows up for a latte (they always do). But I'm not a writer; I'm just a lowly foreign actor. So I did what any professional would do: I shut up and followed directions.

　　Though the entire cast and crew did everything to make us feel comfortable, at times it was a tad overwhelming. One day, I just didn't feel like eating much. An assistant-to-the-director thought this meant I didn't like Chinese food. After that, they brought the foreigners KFC for every meal. After a few weeks, we had to beg them to stop.

　　Another time, we were shooting a diving scene off the side of a boat. Since the diving tanks they borrowed from the Chinese Navy were empty, we were instructed to jump off the boat wearing weights. I hesitated at first. I have done some diving and consider myself a strong swimmer, but I had visions of sinking straight to the bottom of the South China Sea. To allay my fears, one of the assistant directors got into a diving suit and jumped off the boat. Since his tank was empty, he floated to the surface to the relieved cheers of cast and crew. To this day, I wonder how many assistant directors have been lost that way.

　　Later, it was my time to die. In the movie, I die from a grenade blast. One moment I'm clinging to the ladder of a manhole. The next minute, the smoke is clearing, and I'm sprawled out awkwardly near bottom of the hole. The camera slowly pans over my blood-covered body and then zooms in on my face. Of all the people who died in the movie, I'm the only one who didn't close his eyes. This made my director happy. He said in broken English, "Eyes open, very good."

　　n China, I have been offered many different jobs just because I am foreign. I have been a basketball referee, a DJ, an ESL teacher, and yes, even an actor. Would I have the opportunity or motivation to do any of these jobs back home? No. But here I take these jobs. Why do I do it? Probably I do it to prop up my fragile self-esteem, but that's a whole other article. If you ever get offered an acting job in China, take a deep breath and say "yes." One day when I am old, I can tell my grandchildren, "I once had a role in a Chinese television miniseries, and I was amazing at dying." I just hope they believe me.