
Beyond Meteor Garden's Barbie Hsu: Meet Taiwan's stunning stars that deserve your attention for their talent and looks
Jerry Yan
Part of the iconic Meteor Garden, Jerry Yan quickly became the most popular member of F4, a level of fame he shared with the late Barbie Hsu. His captivating presence, however, wasn't confined to that single breakout role. Jerry continued to solidify his leading man status through a string of successful dramas, including The Hospital, Hot Shot, Down With Love, and My Best Ex-Boyfriend.
Regardless of whether he portrayed the aloof "cold bad boy" or a genuinely good-hearted character, Jerry Yan remained the dream man for countless admirers. With his seemingly perfect facial features and impeccable physique, he is undeniably handsome - a celebrity whose charm still makes girls swoon.
Alice Ko
Her rise in the entertainment world began unexpectedly in 2005, when she was cast in a music video for Jay Chou - the "King of Mandopop" - after a chance encounter with a talent scout. That fateful moment launched a career marked by daring roles and emotional depth. She has taken on bold characters that challenge convention, including a shy sex worker in Monga and an enigmatic victim in Who Killed Cock Robin.
Her impact on television has been equally significant as he twice received the Golden Bell Award for Best Leading Actress in a TV Series - first in 2016 for her role in Marry Me, Or Not?, and again in 2020 for her standout performance playing two characters across different timelines in Someday Or One Day.
Joe Cheng
He continues to prove that his star power hasn't dimmed - even years after his iconic roles in It Started With a Kiss and They Kiss Again. His portrayal of Jiang Zhi Shu alongside Ariel Lin won over audiences across Asia, and their reunion in Love or Bread only strengthened their on-screen magic.
With a smile that melts hearts, Cheng nailed the role of the cold, aloof genius - but it's his softer moments that truly make fans swoon. His looks haven't changed a bit, and if anything, he's only gotten more handsome with time.
Patty Lee
Her breakout performance in 2020's My Missing Valentine marked a turning point, earning her critical acclaim and Best Actress nominations at both the Golden Horse Awards and Taipei Film Awards. Since then, she's continued to impress on the small screen, taking on complex roles in Taiwan Crime Stories - Dark Currents and Shards of Her.
Outside of acting, she wears many creative hats: a two-time Golden Bell-winning lifestyle show host and the singer-songwriter behind indie pop band So-So Heroes.
Greg Hsu
Also known as Greg Han or Hsu Kuang Han, Greg Hsu first appeared on screen in Jay Chou's 2003 music video Class 3-2. Since then, he has built a reputation for his nuanced performances in television dramas.
He earned Golden Bell Award nominations for his roles in Have You Ever Fallen in Love, Miss Jiang? and the hit series Someday or One Day, solidifying his status as one of Taiwan's standout actors.
Vivian Sung
With a string of memorable performances, she has become one of Taiwan's most beloved screen stars. She captured hearts in the 2015 hit Our Times, earning a Golden Horse nomination for Best Actress, and continued her rise with the 2021 fantasy romance Till We Meet Again.
She has taken on a growing number of international projects - from the France-Taiwan co-production For My Country, which premiered at Venice in 2022, to the New York–shot My Heavenly City in 2023. She also starred in the gritty TV series The Cleaner, which explored the unsettling world of crime scene clean-up.
Jasper Liu
Before making a name for himself on screen, Liu got his start as a model - a stepping stone that led to widespread recognition across Taiwan and beyond. But acting isn't his only passion. From 2009 to 2016, he was part of the electronic post-rock band Morning Call, where he played guitar and sang backup vocals.
On the acting front, Liu has starred in several hit projects, including Pleasantly Surprised (2014), More Than Blue (2018), Before We Get Married (2019), and Triad Princess (2019). With his trademark dimples and a smile that lights up the screen, it's no wonder fans have nicknamed him "Taiwan's Most Adorable Boyfriend" and "Nation's Boyfriend."
Annie Chen
She made her mark early on by becoming the first-ever winner of the Kaiwo Phantasy Star Catwalk Girl modeling contest in 2007. Just a year later, she transitioned into acting, landing the lead role of Zhao Ke Rou in Prince + Princess 2.
Over the years, she has built an impressive filmography, with standout performances in Sorry to Bother You (2018), Terrorizers (2021), and White Lies, Black Lies (2015). Off-screen, she married fellow actor George Hu on January 13, 2022.
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Hindustan Times
3 days ago
- Hindustan Times
Blockades, blackouts and bullets: China invades Taiwan on screen
On an island in the Kinmen archipelago, in the Taiwan Strait, Taiwanese soldiers are marching through a dark tunnel. 'The enemy is landing,' one of their number says. As they emerge onto a gloomy beach, they begin to notice hordes of fighters from the Chinese People's Liberation Army (PLA) camouflaged in the shadows. Lights flash in the darkness; the sound of machine-gun fire pierces the air. 'Zero Day Attack', a ten-episode drama, makes its debut on Taiwanese TV on August 2nd. It is the first mainstream film or TV show made in the country to imagine how China might try to annex the island, making its broadcast a cultural milestone. (The show will be released in Japan later in the month, but international distribution has yet to be announced.) Taiwan's screenwriters have avoided depicting a cross-strait war, considering the subject too contentious. But Cheng Hsin-mei, the showrunner of 'Zero Day Attack', is concerned, having observed the Chinese Communist Party's crackdown in Hong Kong in recent years. 'We want to bring awareness while we have the freedom to create,' she says. 'We could lose our freedom in the future.' Ever since the Kuomintang (KMT) fled to Taiwan in 1949 after losing the Chinese civil war, China's leaders have threatened to retake the island. At first, this did not seem realistic, as China did not have much firepower. Then, after China began to open up and reform its economy in 1978, Taiwanese began investing in China: the resulting economic intertwinement encouraged many Taiwanese to think a war with China was improbable. Most Taiwanese are still blasé about the Chinese threat. But Russia's invasion of Ukraine—not to mention China's recent military exercises in the Taiwan Strait—have convinced some that conflict could happen. Puma Shen, a member of Taiwan's parliament who acted as a consultant on 'Zero Day Attack', says the show reflects such shifting attitudes. In 2021, when he co-founded the Kuma Academy, a non-governmental organisation which teaches civil defence, many Taiwanese were critical of such efforts and denied that Taiwan needed a 'pre-war mentality'. Now, however, increasing numbers are signing up for workshops on topics such as information warfare and evacuation planning. Taiwan's government, too, wants to up the ante. Last year a new policy on conscription came into effect, extending the term from four months to 12. This year Lai Ching-te, the president, announced plans to increase defence spending to over 3% of GDP, up from 2.5%. So how does 'Zero Day Attack' envisage an attack unfolding? It begins with a Chinese spy plane disappearing in waters near Taiwan. Under the guise of a search-and-rescue mission, China deploys aeroplanes and ships and starts to enact a blockade. Taiwan's outgoing president tells the president-elect that an American aircraft-carrier is nearby and the Americans will help if he gives the word, but she is reluctant to take him up on the offer, fearing that any intervention would escalate the conflict. Such worries about appearing the provocateur echo real officials' concerns when it comes to handling China's military manoeuvres. 'Zero Day Attack' underscores that a Chinese attack on Taiwan will involve a range of weapons, not all of them ballistic. There are blackouts. Phone signal becomes patchy; the island sees its biggest internet outage ever, one which lasts for more than a day. News stations temporarily go off air. The aim is to create chaos and undermine any sense of social cohesion. Jets are often seen flying overhead and tanks are on the streets. Many Taiwanese start to flee from the island. Particularly effective is China's information warfare. Doctored videos circulate on social media, spreading fake news about a missile strike. Pro-China influencers start agitating online and presenting Taiwan's democracy as a sham. China's government infiltrates criminal gangs, using them to create havoc on the streets. China proposes a peace agreement, which stipulates that Taiwan accept the policy of 'one country, two systems'—the model of governance China imposes on Hong Kong, which supposedly allows for autonomy but in practice leaves Hong Kong at the mercy of the Communist Party. Some politicians, desperate for resolution, support the agreement. Each episode of 'Zero Day Attack' is directed by a leading Taiwanese film-maker and looks at the events from a particular perspective. One episode follows the president-elect; another focuses on the tv stations; still others explore how rich Taiwanese or working-class people would be affected. The result is a scorching depiction of how war would shake society. Warning shots As you might expect for a drama about a loaded geopolitical subject, 'Zero Day Attack' has not had zero problems in production. Some consider the show to be propaganda for the ruling Democratic Progressive Party, which firmly rejects China's claim to the island. Politicians in the KMT, which favours more cordial ties with China, have pointed out that Taiwan's culture ministry had invested in the series (though the ministry does this for many local productions). Another of the show's main investors is Robert Tsao, a billionaire founder of a semiconductor company, who has also given money to civilian-defence initiatives including the Kuma Academy. Both Mr Tsao and Mr Shen have been labelled 'separatists' by China. Ms Cheng says some Taiwanese talent agents refused to put forward their actors for the show for fear that they would get blacklisted in China—which would be bad for business, given that China has the world's biggest tv and film audience. So Ms Cheng sought out people who were not worried about being banned. One of the show's China-backed rabble-rousers, Big John, is played by Chapman To, an actor from Hong Kong turned Taiwanese immigrant. He was a vocal supporter of Hong Kong's democracy movement in 2014, which caused Chinese audiences to boycott his films and production companies to refuse to work with him. What is most intriguing is that the series is not nearly as apocalyptic as the original 17-minute trailer, released last year, promised. It imagined 'Total Chaos. Shortages of supplies, complete interruption of water, electricity and telecommunication.' These things do not transpire in the finished show. Ms Cheng says the trailer was designed to be terrifying as a hook to get audiences interested. Mr Shen, the consultant, denies that alarming scenes were cut because of political pressure. Lo Ging-zim, one of the directors, has been adamant that 'Not a single word of the script had been modified by the government.' Yet Yen Chen-shen, a political scientist at National Chengchi University, who was not involved in the project, reckons the Taiwanese government may well have pressed the film-makers to tone down some of the story's scariest parts. Officials he knows want the public to be prepared for an invasion, but they do not want to petrify them. 'Zero Day Attack' is not without its artistic flaws. America is portrayed as a staunch ally—a description few would apply to the current administration. China-backed characters, such as Big John, are generally portrayed as cartoonish spies and gangsters. Many people in China, Taiwan and the Chinese diaspora do not want to see Taiwanese people mistreated but nonetheless believe that, because of their shared culture, Taiwan ought to be part of China. How that might be achieved, given the overwhelming opposition of Taiwanese people to being ruled by the Communist Party, is a tricky question. Still, the series could have portrayed Taiwanese who favour unification more sympathetically. 'Zero Day Attack' arrives on screen months after the pLA rehearsed an amphibious invasion and naval blockades, as well as disrupting supply lines and bombing energy facilities. No one knows whether China will one day make good on its threats. But after watching this show, no one can claim not to have been warned. For more on the latest books, films, TV shows, albums and controversies, sign up to Plot Twist, our weekly subscriber-only newsletter


Time of India
4 days ago
- Time of India
Taiwanese singer Waa Wei confirms relationship: Shares how she has been dating an online influencer who is 21 years her junior - Deets inside!
Taiwanese artist Waa Wei has recently confirmed that she is dating again! The 41-year-old singer-songwriter and radio DJ announced the news that she has been dating Ian Chen , a 21-year-old online social media influencer. Waa Wei is in a relationship with Ian Rumours surrounding the singer's dating Ian had been swirling around for quite some time. The two had been spotted at an art exhibition set up by Yoshimoto Nara. They had been seen together holding hands while attending the event, sparking dating rumours. According to reports from Cinema Online, her company issued a statement confirming the news. Their statement read, 'Our artiste Waa Wei is currently in a relationship. Both parties were single before they began dating. This is not a secret, and [she] was not hiding it. As for the online speculations, we understand where people are coming from, but Waa Wei was not a third party in anybody's relationship, and had no intention of hurting anyone'. Speculations about Ian and Waa Wei's relationship The prompt statement comes after an online social media post went viral for talking about how Waa was the 'third person' in Ian and another popular celebrity's relationship. by Taboola by Taboola Sponsored Links Sponsored Links Promoted Links Promoted Links You May Like Indonesia: Unsold Sofas at Bargain Prices (Prices May Surprise You) Sofas | Search Ads Search Now Undo The post had been uploaded and now deleted by the social media influencer's ex-girlfriend, Raewyn. She had shared in her post, 'Whenever Waa Wei posts Ian on social media, [I see images of] his silhouette, his purple-painted nails, his clothes, his birthday, his first name, and the sunglasses he wears. They stab at my heart again and again'. She had also announced that they had broken up. Later on, after the post gained traction, she deleted it and issued another statement sharing that the comment was made when she was emotional. 'Thanks, everyone, for your concern. Please be kind and not affect anyone else', she had added.


The Hindu
5 days ago
- The Hindu
Director Pawo Choyning Dorji interview: On Bhutanese modernity and echoes of Edward Yang in ‘The Monk and the Gun'
There's a poster of A Brighter Summer Day hanging in Pawo Choyning Dorji's home. It's a tribute to the late Edward Yang, but also something far more personal. 'The little girl in the film,' he tells me, 'Chang Chen's little sister... that little girl is my wife.' There's something almost sacred in the intimacy of this little aside during our conversation that caught me by surprise. And yet it seems quite fitting. The Taiwanese auteur's legacy of stillness, his emotional patience, and the manner in which he held memory and modernity in the same breath — all feel strikingly alive in Pawo's oeuvre of cinema. It's an inheritance Pawo carries with grace, if not intentionality. 'I never went to film school,' he says. 'I studied political science.' It was precisely this confluence — studying politics in the U.S. during the invasion of Iraq while watching his homeland, Bhutan, gently usher in a democratic transition — that sparked something deeper in him. 'American students would say, it is the duty of America to give democracy to people who don't have it... the gift of democracy,' he recalls. 'I was from a country where we were literally gifted democracy. But we didn't ask for it. We didn't fight for it. There was no revolution, no war, and yet we weren't necessarily ready for it. I don't even know if we're ready for it now.' That tension between the 'gift' and the cost, between imposed modernity and lived tradition, is the soul of The Monk and the Gun, Pawo's latest political satire. On paper, it's a farcical telling of a monk in Bhutan tasked with finding a gun during the country's first national election. But beneath the comedic conceit lies some crushing insight into how nations rich in an inner life, like Bhutan, have risked spiritual amnesia in their pursuit of 'prosperous' external systems. 'When I premiered the film in Bhutan,' Pawo says, 'people were crying. I never expected that. I thought I made a satire. But for Bhutanese audiences, it was something else. One person told me, 'This reminded us of how, in the pursuit of something we thought we needed, we lost something we already had.'' He continues, 'That's not something I would've learned in a political science class. That's something I only realised at the very end, once the audience showed me what the film really meant.' Though it's not just the political system of his homeland that Pawo interrogates. He's also reckoning with what modernity is doing to its spirit. 'If you come to Bhutan, the phallus is a very important part of our culture,' he says. 'We are a tantric Buddhist country, and everything has meaning.' In tantric thought, inhibition is the final barrier to enlightenment, and the solution seems to be more embarrassment. 'If you have water in your ears, a Bhutanese will say: put more water,' he laughs. 'You want to destroy inhibition? Put yourself in situations where you constantly feel it. You see a phallus, you feel embarrassed, you feel shy, but that's okay. Because actually, in the end, nothing exists.' Towards the end of the film, an American who arrived seeking a firearm leaves with a towering wooden phallus. 'The gun represents something foreign,' Pawo explains. 'Western, modern, but also a bringer of suffering. The phallus, on the other hand, is our tradition. This juxtaposition is no accident. Both are 'phallic, '' Pawo says with a half-smile. 'Both are masculine. But one represents fear, and the other represents freedom.' More regretfully, the one native to Bhutan is disappearing. 'Growing up, they were everywhere. But as we became more modern and Westernised, we began to feel embarrassed by them, and so they vanished. The very thing that was supposed to help us transcend inhibition became the source of it.' In Pawo's Bhutan, these symbols are never inert and ripple outward personally, politically, and metaphysically. Yet, the road to manifesting these stories onscreen is anything but seamless. The Bhutanese film industry, as he tells me, is nascent, bordering on non-existent. His Oscar-nominated 2019 debut, Lunana: A Yak in the Classroom, was shot with a single camera and no electricity. 'It was a solar-powered film,' he says, laughing. 'Even now, with more recognition, we still truck every piece of equipment in from Delhi.' Still, Bhutan offers Pawo something few other places could as a spiritual ground to stand on, even as his gaze grows more global. Recently, he contributed a segment to Tales of Taipei, a collaborative anthology film about life in the Taiwanese capital. 'In Bhutan, we roll out of bed at eight, make coffee, then discuss what to shoot that day. In Taiwan, the crew was on set at 3 or 4 in the morning. It was quite intense, but also very professional.' Still, Taiwan isn't foreign terrain for Pawo. His wife and children are Taiwanese and he calls it a second home. In fact, his entire aesthetic sits at a confluence of worlds: East and West, past and present, tradition and transformation. He cites Kore-eda for his realism, Tarantino for his audacity, and, most meaningfully, his own spiritual and creative mentor, Dzongsar Khyentse Norbu. 'He was the one who saw I was a storyteller before I knew it myself,' Pawo says. 'His films are deeper, more philosophical, and I once told him my films would be more cheesy in comparison. And he said, 'Well, if cheesy is done right, it works.'' Indeed, 'cheesy' might be the last word anyone would use to describe Pawo's films. His frames feel like paintings. His stories take their time. And his humour, like his politics, comes from deep within. Pawo tells me, 'You will never see your own eyelashes because they are so close to you' — something the Buddha once said. The thought felicitously explains why his films often turn inward, searching for what's been missed in plain sight. While the world rushes to look outward, to see farther, Pawo seems more preoccupied with what we've stopped noticing up close. Perhaps that's where the spirit of Edward Yang lingers most clearly in his films. In the tenderness to look at one's own culture, to question it without cruelty, and to hold its contradictions and absurdities with care. To see clearly. Even especially, when it's your own eyelashes in the way. The Monk and the Gun is currently available to stream on MUBI