'Special-type actors' picked for patriotic movies because of their likeness to leaders used to carry a heavy responsibility. Today's 'Red?films give them more leeway, Liu Wei finds.

When good-looking young actors Liu Ye and Chen Kun took on the roles of, respectively, Mao Zedong and Zhou Enlai in The Founding of a Party - which celebrated the 90th anniversary of the Communist Party of China - their suitability was a national issue in the court of public opinion. Some hailed the new faces for providing a fresh image of familiar political leaders, while others suggested the young idols were not qualified for such important roles. A typical complaint was they didn't look like the leaders they were playing. Traditionally, in patriotic or "Red" films and TV shows, particularly those depicting the War of Resistance against Japanese Aggression (1937-1945) and the Chinese Civil War (1945-1949), actors playing the Chinese leaders had a strong physical resemblance to them - so much so they were called "special-type actors".

The title was not invented in China but in the former Soviet Union, where actors who played Vladimir Lenin and Joseph Stalin got the roles principally because they looked just like them - and not because of their acting skills.

In 1978, the Chinese army-affiliated August First Film Studio began a nationwide search for people who shared similar looks with some of the country's most important statesmen, such as Mao, Zhou and Liu Shaoqi.

Those chosen were not necessarily actors. For instance, the late Gu Yue, well known for his Mao roles, was an army officer when selected by Marshal Ye Jianying; and a Zhou-style actor was previously a film projectionist.

Inevitably, perhaps, their looks may have been convincing, but their acting skills weren't. Later, professional actors who happened to look similar to the political leaders were chosen instead.

The 48-year-old Liu Jin, who has played Zhou in more than 40 TV dramas and films, is one of the latter kinds of actors and was picked to play the part of Zhou by senior makeup artist Wang Xizhong, in 1995.

Liu says, in the 1980s, it was not just an ability to act and a face that was similar to a political leader that was required. The individual also had to be politically correct and was put through checks of his personal and family backgrounds.

These days, he says, there are no longer political checks, but the actor should not be tainted by scandals and must be accepted by the family of the political leader.

"Usually we do not use actors that are associated with negative news, or who have played bad-guy roles like a traitor," says Chen Li, a director of many patriotic films and TV dramas. "Prudence is still necessary when dealing with Red stories."

Impersonating a leader in movies is not as lucrative as some people might imagine.

"The more the audience appreciates your performance, the more limited your career is," Liu Jin says. "I spent four years at college learning how to play different roles, but now I do not have many choices of characters."

In 2002, Liu played a character who rapes his wife's sister in a TV series and was harshly criticized by friends and fans, who warned him off playing bad-guy roles in the future.

Additionally, portraying political leaders is a responsibility, something Liu has to constantly bear in mind. "I have come across pensioners on the streets who tearfully held my hands, saying they looked on (former) Premier Zhou as their father," he says.

"I have also met teenagers who told me their understanding of our late leaders came from my performance. Some associate their affection for our leaders with me, which is both an honor and a pressure."

Their patriotic halos means Liu and his fellow special-type actors cannot do product endorsement in their leader personas. And their pay for appearing in patriotic films or TV shows is lower than the market standard.

"It would be strange to bargain for better pay when working in a Red film," Liu says, because it is also seen as an honor and it would appear to be unpatriotic.

Special-type actors had their heyday in the 1980s, when cultural products were limited and people had fresh memories of their revolutionary leaders, many of whom died in the 1970s. Then, actors such as Gu Yue would often trigger spontaneous applause when making public appearances.

But in the 1990s, with reform and opening-up, people were offered more diversified cultural products, including Hollywood blockbusters that were shown at Chinese theaters from 1994. Patriotic films and TV dramas, meanwhile, offered little in terms of development of narrative or character portrayal and became steadily less popular.

Special-type actors are now faced with competition from young, good-looking idol type actors and advanced makeup techniques that means looking like a leader is no longer a prerequisite to playing him or her.

An example of this new breed of actor is Tang Guoqiang, who was used to playing officials, soldiers and emperors, when he took on the role of Mao, in 1996. He didn't even try to replicate Mao's distinctive Hunan dialect, a signature effect in previous films and TV shows about the leader. Instead he gave full play to Mao's character and was applauded for doing so.

"Today's audiences are no longer satisfied with the stereotypical versions of leaders," says critic Tan Fei. "They want more of the character's personality, not how they looked and what they did in history - there are already so many works that cover these angles."

Director Chen Li agrees.

"If, in the past, a patriotic film shaped the image of leaders in a historic setting, now it focuses more on depicting a vivid personality and his or her inner world," she says.

A new milestone for patriotic movies was The Founding of a Republic, in 2009. It celebrated the People's Republic of China's 60th anniversary and cast more than 100 stars, including Jackie Chan and Zhang Ziyi. It created a record box office for the genre, about 400 million yuan ($58 million).

In the film Tang plays Mao and Liu Jin is Zhou Enlai. Their vivid fictional recreations of history that included Zhou dancing passionately and an inebriated Mao laughing like a child after achieving victory in a battle were widely praised for breaking stereotypes.

Numerous supporting roles went to stars who had never played politicians before. Among them were director Chen Kaige's cameo as general Feng Yuxiang and Chen Kun's impersonation of Chiang Ching-kuo - although the two bear no physical resemblance to the original figures - and their performances were widely praised.

"We can see that Red films still have an audience if they tell good stories and present characters as real, multi-dimensional people," actor Liu Jin says.

Critic Tan Fei sees the more open attitude of the authorities as an encouraging trend.

"Allowing more varied and vivid interpretations of leaders is delightful progress," he says. "Art wins people over by exploring humanity, never by creating great totems."

Not only did the program help Du appear on further TV shows and commercials, but he eventually got a call in 2005 from the producers of Three Kingdoms: Resurrection of the Dragon. They wanted a stuntman for Andy Lau, the film's lead.

"They found me via an Internet search and reckoned I was the ideal choice," Du says. "So another chance for publicity came, and I was in."

Du had to endure months of intense combat training and horse riding lessons to prepare for the role, as he had previously had no martial arts training.

"As a beginner, I was often scolded by the action choreography director," Du says. "But I didn't complain and improved as time went by."

"Being a stuntman is very adventurous," Du adds, recalling his frequent blood-splattered experiences shooting grandiose battle scenes.

When he was injured, Du says he had to deal with it and get back on set as quickly as possible.

The actor's stoic, devil-may-care and hard-working spirit saw him standing in as Lau's stunt double in another two films: Detective Dee and the Mystery of the Phantom Flame, and Future X-Cops.

In 2009, Du was selected by director Jiang Wen to take a part in the blockbuster Let the Bullets Fly, which Du calls "a miracle".

"I don't know the exact reason why the director picked me. Maybe I was the best among the candidates who met the requirements: Tough-looking and rides horses well," Du says.

"But I'm sure it had nothing to do with my resemblance to Lau. After all the pain I endured came the reward."

Du considers Let the Bullets Fly his first film as he plays "a character with a racy personality".

"I'm glad that people now know my name after watching the movie and I'm not just referred to as 'the mainland version of Andy Lau'," says Du, who is currently working on new film projects.

"I've learned a lot being a stuntman, but I guess I've bidden farewell to being an actor's double, because you don't get much credit for that.

"I want to be recognized for my portrayals of characters. This makes me feel like I'm a real actor."

In the same film, Wen Xiang made his first appearance as the double for Hong Kong heavyweight Chow Yun-fat.

Wen first realized he looked like Chow in 2000, when he worked at a restaurant in Yueyang, Hunan province.

"Many customers stared at me and told me I was like Chow, especially when I smiled," Wen says.

"I looked at myself in the mirror, and smiled. Holy cow! We were alike!" Wen says, laughing.

Wen started to mimic the Hong Kong star, especially his smirk, for customers, and that led to his first stage performance imitating Chow, in Guangzhou, Guangdong province.

He moved there thinking this would be "a better place to make a fortune" and worked as a security guard at a shopping mall.

It was at the New Year's Eve gala held by his company that Wen did a scene from The Bund, a classic TV series featuring Chow. "I was shocked by the reaction of the audience, they all shouted 'bravo' and said I was a dead ringer for Chow," Wen says. "It gave me a huge confidence boost."

The 32-year-old started developing his interest in performing and took part in a number of TV shows, most of which were focused on celebrity imitations.

Wen quit his job and completely focused on his performing career and his big break eventually came in 2009 with Let the Bullets Fly, as Chow's stand-in.

"They saw my photo on the Internet and were convinced that I was qualified," Wen says.

"A wild dream came true," he adds, laughing again. "I'd been surviving as a celebrity imitator for a decade and then came my first film, the nation's highest grossing domestic film, can you imagine that?"

During filming, Wen often stayed up late to analyze Chow's clips "frame-by-frame", in order to copy the star's speaking style and gestures.

He was mainly used for medium- and long-distance shots, but he also did a scene in which Chow and Wen slapped each other. "'You're a record breaker. In your cinematic debut, you smacked Chow Yun-fat!' is what Chow said to me afterward," Wen recalls with a grin.

He says he feels satisfied with his performance in the film because few could tell that Chow had a double and the Hong Kong actor was happy with his "spitting image".

"Chow said to me, 'If they remake The Bund, I'll do the long-distance shots and leave the close-ups to you,'" Wen says, adding that he is looking forward to becoming a lead actor himself one day.

"I've imitated Chow for years and I was his double in my first film," Wen says. "But I prefer playing different characters in films. You can't always be someone's shadow, you've got to be yourself."