The journey of Michelle Yeoh (Ipoh, Malaysia, 63 years old) from being a child dedicated to ballet to receiving the Golden Bear at the Berlinale has been very long. And unique. Not only is she the first person of Malaysian origin to win the Oscar, she is also the first Asian actress to win it. A journey that began as a lanky girl named Yeoh Chu-Kheng, went through a name change, Hong Kong cinema, the Bond saga, the wuxia (Chinese action and fantasy film) and reached its peak in that Californian laundry audited by the Treasury, the epicenter of the crossing of worlds of the alpha universe of Everything at once everywhere. Yeoh has always been the minority and has always triumphed. The Golden Bear of Honor deserves to be collected by a star like Yeoh.
If you cried on Thursday night when Sean Baker —with whom you filmed a fascinating video for this tribute— Drama, in which he plays multiple roles—gave him the Golden Bear of Honor, this Friday, trophy in hand, he appeared immensely happy before the press. The actress of The Heroic Trio, Tiger and Dragon, Memoirs of a Geisha, Tomorrow Never Dies (what a sequence with the motorcycle with Pierce Brosnan), Crazy Rich Asians, Sunshine, Avatar, Shang-Chi and the legend of the ten rings o Wicked She has defined herself as an eternal fighter in a world in which she has been a minority, as a woman and as an Asian: “I am sitting here today with a Golden Bear, not for one film alone, but for the perseverance, resilience and stubbornness of saying that I am not going to simply disappear. I will stay until we make adequate changes, not only for minorities, but for everyone.”
All in all, do you feel that things have changed in Hollywood and in cinema in general in the representation of minorities? “It’s still a struggle. Problems like that don’t go away overnight. I’ve been very fortunate to participate in some films that have highlighted the lack of these roles for minorities… In the era of Crazy Rich Asianspeople said we ticked all the boxes: an all-Asian cast, a romantic comedy. Making movies is a risk, and our job is to take that risk because we believe the story needs to be told.”
When asked about current American policy, clearly anti-immigration, the interpreter prefers to haggle over the issue: “I don’t think I’m in a position to talk about the political situation in the United States, and I also can’t say that I understand it, so it’s better not to talk about something I don’t know about. I want to focus on what’s important to us, cinema. People like to say that cinema isn’t going to survive because there are so many other things happening and our attention span is shorter. Honestly, I don’t believe that.”
Although she did remember that when she arrived in Hollywood, the first offers focused on roles as a girl from Chinatown, and never as a journalist or doctor. “It amazed me. It was difficult to get into that mentality, then understand them and finally get them out of classic pigeonholed thoughts. With labels they believed they could understand the world and have an answer for everything.” He learned to say no. “We all have the right to be ourselves.”
On Thursday night, the Malaysian star received the Honorary Golden Bear from Sean Baker, who gave her glowing words of praise: “Michelle Yeoh is a once-in-a-generation cinematic presence, the kind that not only appears in movies, but redefines the atmosphere of the place (…) You feel like she changes when she comes on screen. Suddenly, the stakes are higher.”
For the winner of the last edition of the Oscars, that Golden Bear from the Berlinale, “a symbol of artistic freedom, strength and courage,” was “more than appropriate” for Yeoh. “Thank you for decades of unforgettable performances, for raising the bar for all of us and for reminding us why we fell in love with movies.”
Yeoh, in tears, explained: “I feel immense gratitude and a silent sense of wonder. Talking about trajectory sounds very important, like a conclusion. I prefer to think of this award as a pause, a moment to breathe, look back and then move forward.” And when remembering her father, to whom she dedicated the Bear, she confessed: “I never imagined that a girl from Malaysia, a lover of discipline, dance and a dreamer, would go so far through stories. My path has crossed languages and cultures, continents and genres, sometimes with grace, sometimes with a little pain, but always guided by curiosity and a deep faith in cinema. Cinema became the space where I could find contradictions, strength and vulnerability, seriousness and play, control and dedication. It gave me not only a career, but a life much bigger than I ever dared to imagine.”