Indeed it is. It's that Wang Wei-chung who uses his voice, and crazy ideas, to make it big in televised variety shows.
The variety show Lienhuan Pao (literally meaning "Chain of Bubbles"), broadcast by the Chinese Television Service, is on from 7:00-7:30 PM. Its ratings are usually tops for the time period, and it is fast approaching its 1,000th episode. Its popularity can be credited to the "behind the scenes cleanup hitter," Wang Wei-chung.
Wang's principle for the program is "creativity." He explains, "We just abandon 'primary logic' and 'prior logic.'" Hou Wen-yen, scriptwriter for "The History of Chinese Television," one of the regular skits on the program, says that they play with logic in every episode, but they show their stuff best when they break logic. This creates a tartness beyond people's expectations. This is how Wang Wei-chung gets his laughs.
Under the direction of Wang, Lienhuan Pao has generated the two "mosts" in its five-times-a-week broadcasts: the most popular recurrent skits and the most popular people.
Popular skits have included "Two Women," "The Tree of Truth," "A Saying For Every Day," "Miss China," and now "The History of Chinese Television." Popular stars to come out of the show include Peng Chia-chia, Hu Kwa, Tsao Chi-tai, Wai Mei, and Hsiao Kuo. The show has also given a "second spring" to Fang Fang and Hsia Ling-ling. The current hosts, Peng Chia-chia and Fang Fang, were honored with the Golden Bell Award for best hosts of a variety program.
If you say that Wang is the master of crazy ideas, you are unlikely to be opposed. Where does he find his inspiration? We must go back to when he was a mere lad.
Looking back to when Wang grew up in an air force dependents' village in Chiayi, he was never a "good little boy." He followed strangers behind their backs, acting as other people's children, and sneaked into the movies without paying. When he didn't feel like going to school he would imitate his father's voice and call the school for the day off. When caught playing hooky, he would gracefully ask his teachers, 'Please forgive me!" Because he looked sincere, he got away with it every time: "Performing was so important, it could turn bad luck into good," says Wang mischievously.
His love affair with television goes back a long way. He says most people in the military village were quite poor. Any family that had an antenna on their house was rolling in dough. At that time one still had to buy a ticket to see TV. When he saw the shows, Wang discovered that TV could make the things in his imagination come to life.
When Wang was small his favorite activity was to sit between Mother Wang and Auntie Lee and listen to them talk. "The village was like a little world," says Wang. There he saw the panorama of life. He uses his understanding in the program, to bring the bit players to life.
When he studied in high school, his homework was atrocious. But he really stood out in "extra-curricular" activities. He could do cartoons without any formal training, wrote good essays, edited the school paper and class address book, participated in debates. . . . Though no one pushed him, no one obstructed him either.
When Wang was a junior, a new student named Fan Chun-pai transferred in. He could do everything Wang could do, but he also did first-class schoolwork. Wang couldn't help but admire him. With Fan's encouragement, Wang began to hit the books.
With training in journalism at the Chinese Cultural University, Wang, who was already extremely keen, became even more sensitive to the news. He says, "If anything news-worthy happens in the world, then my ideas are endless." His philosophy for TV is "One level higher than the people, not three levels higher." He suggests, "At one level higher one can get close to the viewers; in TV one can't just entertain oneself, one has to stay close to the pulse of society." He uses comedy to make people think about social phenomena.
Newspapers, magazines, the satellite dish, videos—these are sources of new knowledge for Wang. He also encourages his colleagues to keep learning and keep thinking.
Hou Wen-yen really admires Wang's absorption ability and reactions. "His brain is like a computer. Whatever gets put in is instantly correctly classified." Many of the skits in Lienhuan Pao take on current events, and, in the Chinese expression, "draw blood with a single well-placed needle." The addiction of his viewers is proof enough.
Wang also has the Midas touch with talent. His skits rarely use big stars; and it is rare that those in his skits do not become big stars. Peng Chia-chia is one example, going from oblivion to the Golden Bell.
Wang says, "Anybody can do comedy." Wang can quickly grasp each individual's strong points and unique aspects, using the method "Exaggerate the strong points, and make weaknesses into uniquenesses."
But few can take his basic training. Being chewed out by Wang is like "being killed with a machine gun." In the studio his line, "Eight hundred takes and you still can't get it right—am I working with a bunch of pigs?!" has become a cliche.
But those who can take it emerge ready. Peng says, "His demands are strict, but he focuses on actions, not people. After a new person finds his feet, he won't say anything anymore, and he'll let the actor express himself." Hou Wen-yen adds, "In fact, he's reasonable. If you are reasonable, then there's no need to be afraid of him."
One can also see Wang's childlike side in the studio, sometimes playing children's games with the actors. At those times Hou has to say, "Wang Wei-chung, no more playing!" Wang then obediently puts his childish side away.
Not long ago Wang went to Cannes for a television festival. Skits that took three and a half hours to do before took twice as long. Despite long discussions, people couldn't get a handle on the key jokes. Everything seemed chaotic. In production, Wang knows how to "finesse" things, using his long experience to smooth out the rough parts. Though his skits are already popular, because there is so much done ad lib and everything is done in a rush, the quality is still not up to Wang's ideal.
Wang has worked 20 hours a day for the past few years, getting good marks and the trust of his executives. When things reach the breaking point he goes abroad to rest.
As for others' respect, Wang says lightly, "It's no use for someone to admire someone else, or for someone to look down on someone else. If you want a certain result, you must pay a certain price." Now he says, "I'm already immune to failure." Not that he'll never fail, but that failure cannot defeat him.
On working in television, Wang says, "What the audience likes most gets the maximum exposure; it is easy to collapse at the peak." "This is a kind of art, and very emotional; self-respect is often trampled underfoot." "There are too many variables here; you can only adapt after you do this for a long time." But he's far from giving up: "You must continually strive, and never fear being washed out." Finally, he says, "A general cannot leave the field of battle, he just has to grit it out."
[Picture Caption]
Wang Wei-chung and script writer Hou Wen-yen (first at right) crowd in front of the TV to watch the fruits of their labors.
"The History of Chinese Televi sion" is the central attraction in Lienhuan Pao. (photo by Lily Huang)
In the studio, he is master of all he sees. (photo by Lily Huang)
The first time he made a program—Television Street—Wang posed for a picture with Theresa Teng. (photo courtesy of Wang Wei-chung)
Wang Wei-chung strikes a carefree pose upon his discharge from the military. (photo courtesy of Wang Wei-chung)
The mainland mood is put as much as possible into the lens. (photo courtesy of Wang Wei-chung)
Wang Wei-chung directing Hsiao Kuo (first at left) on adding in the punch line; even the crew are laughing.
Facing the mike, Wang Wei-chung can talk on a roll, and often doesn't even need to look at the script.
Eating a carryout meal while shooting is not unusual; it's even more ordinary to shoot on an empty stomach. (photo by Lily Huang)
"As for how to play this bit, it just isn't logical!" Wang sinks into some hard thinking.
"The History of Chinese Televi sion" is the central attraction in Lienhuan Pao. （photo by Lily Huang）
In the studio, he is master of all he sees. （photo by Lily Huang）
The first time he made a program—Television Street—Wang posed for a picture with Theresa Teng. （photo courtesy of Wang Wei-chung）
Wang Wei-chung strikes a carefree pose upon his discharge from the military. （photo courtesy of Wang Wei-chung）
The mainland mood is put as much as possible into the lens. （photo courtesy of Wang Wei-chung）
Wang Wei-chung directing Hsiao Kuo （first at left） on adding in the punch line; even the crew are laughing.
Facing the mike, Wang Wei-chung can talk on a roll, and often doesn't even need to look at the script.
Eating a carryout meal while shooting is not unusual; it's even more ordinary to shoot on an empty stomach. （photo by Lily Huang）
"As for how to play this bit, it just isn't logical!" Wang sinks into some hard thinking.
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@List.jpg?w=522&h=410&mode=crop&format=webp&quality=80)