It took stephen Chan Chi-wan one night to decide to host Be My Guest, the show that probes into the lives of Hong Kong celebrities in weekly 50-minute segments. Each episode of the Cantonese-language programme on TVB Jade is filmed at a restaurant so that host and guest might pick over nibbles as they discuss life, before and after becoming famous. From Cantopop artists to Legco members and Chief Executive Donald Tsang Yam-kuen, many prominent figures have ventured in front of the lens and Chan has been credited for getting his guests to open up and spill answers like no other.
While fans and journalists analyze his interview technique, Chan says that it comes down to one good old-fashioned trait: His ability to listen. Yet Chan's public persona is considered more boisterous.
A good deal of attention has arrived from the program, which began broadcasting in 2006. Canto queen Kelly Chen Wai-lam, three episodes into the first cycle, was the first to shed tears on the show and many more guests have followed suit, boosting ratings and Chan's exposure. But he is also in the limelight for his other role, that of general manager of TVB, the station which created and airs Be My Guest.
Standing in the line of fire at a Broadcasting Authority hearing in July that attracted more than 200 people, Chan answered concerns over his channel's news reporting and production, but had to be escorted away from a rambunctious placard-bearing crowd when proceedings became heated.
F
or a conversation with The PEAK, Chan walks into the restaurant of his choosing - Zeffirini in Causeway Bay - alone, and quietly extends a hand. In a deep blue suit and purple t-shirt by Hugo Boss, he looks smart, low-key. He had planned on dressing up, he explains, but the gray and white shirt his assistant bought (he never shops for clothes) was too small. "This," he says showing his hair-do, "will have to do."As he heads to the pre-designated table its hard to imagine a shirt too small - he stands around 5' 7", but his frame is tiny. I mention it. "Actually, dieting and losing weight has been my lifelong career," he says.
He leans back on the velvet chair, pleased with the comment and lets out a peal of high-pitched laughter.
The real Stephen Chan show actually began with a bang 50 years ago when the star's mother gave birth to her nearly 12 pound son. "Every time I go bowling, I think what she did for me," he says, miming the weight of the ball. "Ow!" he chortles.
The weight stayed with him, and though he was quiet at school he was an entertainer at home.
"I was fat but I liked to sing. I liked to dance at family parties and I was not shy." He raises an eyebrow, smirking. "Of course they laughed at me but as long as I could make them happy I didn't mind."
Though a long-time vegetarian, Chan did not begin shedding pounds until Nansun Shi, wife of Tsui Hark, took him to task in a rather pointed fashion at a celebrity gala, almost 10 years ago, telling him being fat meant he had no self-respect.
The comments stung but "were true," so he took up jogging and calorie counting. "Being a vegetarian doesn't mean you are going to be thin, I mean just look at the monks and the nuns - most of them are quite fat - though I suppose they need to get some enjoyment from somewhere," he cracks. These days, eight cashew nuts laid out with his egg-whites count as a breakfast treat.
Chan studied drama and theater production at the University of Hong Kong but went into an administration role with the government upon graduating. While there he took a part-time DJ gig for Radio Television Hong Kong, creating the persona Wai Ka-ching out of necessity - a known government worker discussing policy would have been "absurd," he says.
He liked radio because it appealed to his controlling personality. Radio, unlike TV, relies on no one, he explains. "You switch on the mike and go."
Three years ago, Be My Guest hit big. Created to make noise for the launch of the channel's Pay Vision TV, the up-close and personal approach meant deafening roars, and Chan's public profile rocketed.
Was he ever worried it wouldn't work out? "The only thing I worried about was even if I could do it good you are subject to criticism but if you are not good, wow, then everyone would seize the opportunity to kill you. I said yes because if I was not prepared to take a risk how could I expect others to?"
He spends a week preparing, researching and memorizing questions, designing the flow of the show and then records two hours of material which he edits down - normally. His two hours with cooking show host Susie Wong were almost impossible to cut, such was her compelling storytelling, and so went out extra-long.
He likes interviewing, he says, because the most seemingly boring person becomes fascinating. Like?
"Like Ronald Arculli," he says. "He had a very humble beginning."
Shows like Wong's are a dream, though others aren't so easy. One of the first interviews with Kelly Chen was a slog because she gave one-word answers. Does he get nervous, frustrated? "No" he nods his head. "Its just a different kind of fun. The good thing is because its a TV show her facial expressions are very lovely, very funny. If that had been a radio show I'd have been in trouble."
But was there ever a time he was too scared to ask a question? He laughs. "Never."
He describes this manner of interviewing a heart-to-heart conversation - and different from the hard- hitting approach of tabloids. "The current scene is very sensational," he says. "They just take the pictures, they create their own stories and I don't think that is quite the right thing to do."
Chan has much to do with the fodder for the magazines - in supplying the stream of starlets that TVB promotes. Meanwhile, his show has become a channel for celebrities wanting to "set the record straight" when they feel they've been wronged in the press.
Artistes Cecilia Chung Pak-Chi and Gillian Chung Yan-tung both took turns in the wake of the Edison Chen Koon- hei sex-photo scandal they were involved in, startling audiences with what they shared.
TVB helped launch the careers of big-time movie actors from Chow Yun- fat to Maggie Cheung Man-yuk, but Chan feels the younger breed relies too much on looks and think success comes easily, forgetting that such names have given up much for their fame.
"They need to be educated," he says. "Success won't last if you don't add value to yourself."
Now, of course, Chan has similar challenges. He is seen hosting events and attending launches - often taking jibes at young stars. He has released books and DVDs. Is this adding value, or over-exposing and is that something he is wary of?
"Yes, definitely," he admits.
So is he fame hungry?
"No, definitely not."
If the show ended tomorrow life would be fine?
"Yes. I'd read, I'd direct. And the pressure would be off."
Not that there is danger of things coming to an end anytime soon. He recently finished hosting a live version of the show and the new season is in production.
Neither does he see the end of TV. There might be changes in the way we view - on computer or mobile phone, he suggests - but Chan is convinced that broadcasting gives communities a common ground or talking point that is still very much in need.
It is with ends in mind that we land on a rather macabre subject - Chan's own demise, which he is only too happy to discuss.
"For my funeral, I would love to do something like an annual exercise where all my friends come and say something good about me," he says.
His razor-sharp tongue is both loved and loathed, his grinning and zany antics annoy some, entertains others, but for Chan one thing is sure - the show is set to continue, on screen or outside of it.
Edited highlights of an article that appears in the November issue of The PEAK magazine, on sale now.