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E-mailFilm explains why Yao's so big
Colin Pine, Yao Ming and Kelvin Cato
Fine Line Features
Director: Adam Del Deo, James D. Stern.
Stars: Yao Ming, Colin Pine.
MPAA Rating: PG, for mild language.
Michael Machosky can be reached via e-mail or at 412-320-7901.
After all, he's probably only the fifth or sixth-best player at his position -- center -- in the NBA. He's not even the best foreign player, and his quiet public personality is antithetical to the hip-hop bad-boy personality of your typical NBA superstar.
Yet he's probably the biggest 'baller on the planet -- not literally, though he is a towering 7'6" -- and getting bigger by the season. So why Yao?
Well, he's a living, breathing, slam-dunking metaphor for the New China, at a time when all the world is looking East. To understand this mercurial nation of more than a billion people -- where hermetic communist dictatorship and bare-knuckled laissez-faire capitalism seem to coexist quite happily -- a good entry point might be its first world-spanning superstar.
"Year of the Yao" briefly begins with China's closed society of the '60s and '70s, where basketball barely escaped the Cultural Revolution's purge of Western influences. Luckily, Mao was a fan.
Yao Ming's parents were both players in the state-supported basketball system, playing for the national teams. Yao grew up playing in this world, where seeking individual glory is frowned upon, and all honor goes to the team, the State and the people, though not necessarily in that order.
When he was drafted No. 1 by the Houston Rockets, nobody knew what to expect. He's assigned a translator by the team, Colin Pine, a young, smart, directionless guy who learned Chinese because he wanted to. So this is really the story of two rookies, with only a language in common.
Pine knows Chinese, and skillfully helps Yao adjust to American culture and the harsh glare of the the media-mad States' sporting spotlight. But Pine has to learn a language too -- big-time basketball, which has a lexicon almost as nuanced as Mandarin Chinese.
Like with most sports documentaries, we know how it turned out. Yao hit the ground running. By the end of his rookie season, he was dangerous -- a big man with a soft mid-range jumpshot.
You can't help cheering him on, since the obstacles thrown in his path are so formidable. Not only does he have the hopes of Houston on his shoulders, but as the first Chinese NBA player, he's a one-man Olympic squad representing his entire country. The best moment is when announcer-bigmouth Charles Barkley publicly places a bet against Yao, and is forced to eat his words.
Still, he's no Jackie Robinson. His team takes to him immediately, disarmed by his humility and work ethic. The only hint of racism we see in the film -- when Shaquille O'Neal issues a challenge in pidgin Chinese, in the style of an old kung fu film -- was clearly a joke, though plenty took offense. It's hard to believe that's all there was, given the nature of, say, drunken Pistons fans.
Money is scarcely addressed and politics not at all. We don't hear anything about the Chinese government's cut of Yao's salary and advertising revenue. Since Mao and his successors were the only celebrities for a long time, it would be even more interesting to see how Chinese communism has adapted to the age of Yao.
