On the night of April 15, 2011, more than 2 million viewers across Taiwan watched the finale of The Fierce Wife, in which the ex-husband of the female lead An­zhen begs her forgiveness in the hope of a reunion. An­zhen replies: “But I can’t go back.” This line has since become a catchphrase, with the episode bringing in the highest audience rating (9.45) for domestic television in the last decade.

In the second half of 2012 Office Girls created another smash, with male lead Roy Chiu becoming an overnight sensation. But as his performance was less appreciated by the judges of Taiwan’s Golden Bell Awards, he was chosen in an Internet poll as “the least recognized talent.”

Chiu, however, argues that it was director Hsu Fu-chun who provided the inspiration and comedic skill for the program, and it is he who is the real unrecognized talent.

Taiwan television idol drama The Fierce Wife, directed by Hsu, achieved a record high of 9.45 in the ratings with the final program. Male and female leads James Wen and Sonia Sui have become overnight sensations. Dialog from the series has entered the vernacular, with the phrase xiao san (“Little No. 3”) now representing “the other man/woman” in an extramarital affair.

From the sympathetic portrayal of modern people’s joys and sorrows in The Fierce Wife, to Office Girls’ realistic depiction of workplace politics, struggle and survival, these two dramas have taken Hsu’s reputation across the strait to mainland China.

During our interview with Hsu, he took a call with the offer of an opportunity to film a costume drama in the mainland. He refused, he says, because he clearly understands his strengths and weaknesses: “Costume and martial arts dramas simply aren’t my area. I’m much more into everyday stories that touch almost everyone with sadness and longing.”

In dealing with the emotion created by the plots in The Fierce Wife, Hsu might have a quiet chat with the actors to help them set their emotions free and make it through the scene. Lead actress Sonia Sui is unmarried in real life, but she needs to play the role of wife and mother, with a husband involved in extramarital affairs. So Hsu often talks to her about his own marriage, especially his relationship with his young daughter, to help her express her feelings.

He once shared with Sui his experience of singing his little daughter to sleep, feeling the resonance of her heartbeat confirming the bond between father and daughter. At that moment, Hsu thought of the imperfect world that his daughter was entering, and he sang: “Sweetheart, don’t be afraid, I will always be with you.” Sui was greatly moved by the story.

“We never need to use eyedrops in my dramas. Drama is performed by real actors and viewed by real people. Real feelings are important, and fake tears never work!”

However, Office Girls had a different atmosphere altogether. Hsu styles Office Girls as “a light comedy that focuses on characters rather than plots. The storylines are less sophisticated, making space for the actors to show off their skills.” And they enjoy this freedom, exaggerating their performances in comic style.

Taiwan television series are produced in an intensive process wherein scriptwriting, shooting and broadcasting are often conducted almost simultaneously, so it’s difficult for a director to make changes or discuss the plotlines or characters in any depth.

“A television director mainly plays the role of unifying, coordinating and communicating. Seventy-five percent of my work is solving day-to-day problems, so there is little time left for creativity.” Hsu doesn’t deliberately devise an individual style of directing, focusing more on his actors. “I like to let the actors show what they’ve got!”

When Hsu isn’t working, he spends time at home in Yilan enjoying a restful break between projects. Watching his daughter grow day by day inspires his creativity—in fact, his next film will be on the theme of fatherhood.

While television drama has brought Hsu enormous popularity, film is in fact his preferred genre.

Born in 1967 into a Hakka farming family in Yang­mei, Tao­yuan County, Hsu enjoyed a very simple and easygoing childhood. The fragrance of rice drying in the summer sun is one of his fondest memories.

“Looking back, I now realize that of all the ingredients needed to direct with a feeling for life, most come from my childhood.”

“Childhood memories are most often evoked by an aroma or sound. It seems that even the flow of the air is clearly imprinted in my mind,” says Hsu.

In junior high school, Hsu discovered a love for the world of movies, often enjoying a whole afternoon at the local cinema.

“Entering the dark interior of a cinema from the bright world outside was like passing into another dimension. And coming out after the movie when the sky was still bright, I was fascinated by the difference between light and dark.”

Hsu began studying in the Department of Educational Technology, Tamkang University, but he didn’t really know why he had chosen that major, so skipping classes was the norm.

Feature film Holiday Dreaming portrays a group of young people in a quest for themselves. Director Hsu recruited two rookies, Tony Yang and Janine Chang (foreground, left and second left) to play the two leads. They are now top-line movie stars.

Hsu watched an enormous number of movies between junior high and university. The renowned Japanese director and actor Ta­ke­shi Ki­tano was his favorite. “You could say Ki­tano was my mentor—he provided the inspiration for my own filmmaking.” In the early years, there were no subtitles on Japanese films, yet despite Hsu’s lack of Japanese, he could “feel” the messages Ki­tano wanted to communicate through his films by his manipulation of images and scenes.

After completing military service, although Hsu knew nothing about filmmaking, “I had a crazy, naïve idea that I wanted to get into the film industry.” With the boldness of youth, he wrote to two well-known film directors, Edward Yang and Hou Hsiao-hsien, in the hope that they would give him a job—even if it were just running errands or buying lunch, he would be happy. But there was no response. Hsu therefore turned to other opportunities related to film and television production and built up his experience over the next decade.

His first job was with an advertising agency, but he found it difficult to fit into that working environment. Then through an introduction from his fellow alumnus Chen Yu-hsun, the director of Tropical Fish, Hsu got work in director Wang Siu-di’s Ming­xing Studio, where he started at the bottom as log keeper and director’s assistant.

When Ming­xing closed its doors, Hsu did anything he could get. He participated in producing the Chinese Television System (CTS) program Lighting Hope where he was responsible for locating topics, doing interviews and writing scripts. Because the program covered a wide range of social issues, he made frequent contact with disadvantaged groups including children with rare disorders, fishermen, and hawkers.

Hsu visited all corners of Taiwan in the quest for interesting topics, taking public transport into remote areas to interview people and listen to their stories.

In 1996, he worked with director Hsu Hsiao-ming to make a documentary called Homesick Eyes, which depicted the lives of foreign laborers working on the construction of the second terminal for Taoyuan International Airport. Despite the language barrier, he was able to get to know workers from Thailand by spending time with them drinking, chatting and singing.

Through these interviews, Hsu witnessed the great variety of life. Learning how to listen to people and treat them with sincerity and respect, he found that they opened their hearts to him.

“This period of development gave me a huge advantage in my later film and television directing, work which requires high-level communication skills,” says Hsu.

Idol drama Office Girls, which spotlights the strategies needed to survive in the modern workplace, enjoyed excellent ratings. Director Hsu gave the actors plenty of freedom to show off their skills, a tactic that encouraged great performances.

In 2004, Hsu received a grant of NT$10 million to shoot a film. He spent two months writing a story based on his dream, and the film became Holiday Dreaming.

The plot centers on Ah Zhou, a young man who is almost through his military service, relaxing and waiting for the time when he can go home. One night he dreams of the death of an ex-classmate from elementary school, a girl named Chen Xin­xin, whom he hasn’t seen for many years. Ah Zhou feels that his dream has some sort of meaning, so he decides to look for his old school friend. At the same time, a new recruit deserts camp, so Ah Zhou and another soldier (who is also due to leave the military) are ordered to search for him. The scene then moves to the coast of Hualien in eastern Taiwan, where Ah Zhou, his colleague, and Chen Xin­xin, who has joined them, regain a youthful and innocent life.

“Life is not always as good as you might imagine, and it’s impossible to face it with a smile every day. But on the other hand, we don’t want to treat life too seriously or gloomily.” Hsu shot this film with a strong emphasis on the degree of happiness which is always possible, thereby highlighting the equal potential for sadness—the unbearable lightness of being.

Hsu has worked long and hard to realize the dreams of his youth. Now married with two children, he enjoys the country life of Yi­lan County. His children are his most precious treasures, so whenever he is unemployed for a while after a film is completed, he is able to enjoy time with his family. When his wife takes their son to school in the mornings, Hsu looks after their younger daughter—having breakfast and playing games.

“I was rather self-centered in the past, but now I have a triple measure of tolerance in dealing with my daughter,” Hsu says—which is in fact a great advantage in shooting television dramas.

Filmmaking for Hsu is a quest for, and an interpretation of life. One idea currently brewing is to produce a film related to the role of fathers. “Right now it’s the germ of an idea that has just started to grow. When it’s ready to burst out, then it will be time for me to make my film,” says Hsu.

Because of his consideration for others, Hsu shoots happiness to convey the subtlety of sadness: the genesis of many warm and creative works.