From beginning to end I worried that Ang Lee wouldn't be
From beginning to end I worried that Ang Lee wouldn't be satisfied with my work. So I worked as hard as I could to earn his trust, because you only get a chance like this once.
Zhang Ziyi, the luminous actress whose craft has carried her across the great stages of world cinema, once spoke with humility and fire: “From beginning to end I worried that Ang Lee wouldn't be satisfied with my work. So I worked as hard as I could to earn his trust, because you only get a chance like this once.” In these words, she reveals the eternal tension between doubt and devotion, between fear of failure and the will to overcome it through labor. It is not merely a statement about acting, but about the human condition itself: the striving to be worthy of opportunity, the hunger to secure trust, and the recognition that destiny may open its door but once.
The ancients understood this anxiety well. When apprentices stood before masters—whether in painting, in swordsmanship, or in philosophy—they trembled with the same fear: Will my work be good enough? Will the master find me faithful? And yet, it was this trembling that pushed them to greatness. For fear alone destroys, but fear harnessed into discipline becomes the seed of triumph. Zhang Ziyi’s worry did not paralyze her; it spurred her into greater diligence, into pouring herself wholly into her art until she won both the role and the trust of one of cinema’s greatest directors.
History gives us countless parallels. Consider Michelangelo, called by Pope Julius II to paint the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. The young artist feared he was unequal to the task, for he was trained in sculpture, not in fresco. Yet he labored with unrelenting dedication, climbing the scaffold each day, bending his body until it broke, all to prove himself. In the end, he earned not only the Pope’s trust but the admiration of all generations. Like Zhang Ziyi, he knew that opportunities of such magnitude are rare, and when they come, one must meet them with the full force of body and spirit.
Zhang Ziyi’s words also speak to the sacred nature of trust. Trust cannot be demanded; it must be earned through sweat and persistence. Ang Lee, known for his quiet rigor, was not a director easily impressed by vanity or pretense. He required truth, discipline, and sincerity. To earn his trust meant not only performing well but embodying a spirit of devotion to the work itself. The actress understood this and therefore worked beyond the limits of her comfort, because she recognized that the foundation of art, like life, is built upon the fragile but powerful thread of trust between souls.
There is a heroic humility in her confession. She does not boast of talent or brilliance but admits to worry and effort. This humility itself is wisdom: for those who believe they are already worthy often falter, while those who know they must earn their place strive with greater strength. Zhang Ziyi’s greatness did not come solely from her natural gifts, but from the recognition that gifts alone are not enough—only relentless effort, guided by respect, transforms opportunity into destiny.
So what lesson can we take from her words? That in life, opportunities of true significance are rare. When they come, we must seize them with full devotion, setting aside pride, silencing doubt by action, and working until we prove ourselves. Fear is natural, but it must be turned into fuel. And above all, we must understand that the key to lasting success is not only in talent but in winning the trust of others through sincerity, humility, and discipline.
Practical actions follow from this truth. When given a chance—whether in work, art, or love—do not waste it by complacency. Approach it with reverence, as if it were the only one you will ever receive. Work harder than fear suggests, prepare more deeply than pride requires, and give of yourself completely. Do not expect trust to be handed to you; earn it through deeds that speak louder than words. And if doubt comes, as it always does, let it drive you forward rather than drag you down.
Thus Zhang Ziyi’s words become a teaching for all generations: opportunity comes rarely, trust is sacred, and only relentless effort makes us worthy of both. Take heed, children of tomorrow—when destiny opens its door, walk through it with humility, with courage, and with the full measure of your strength. For you may only get the chance once.
NTPhuong Thao Nguyen thi
Zhang Ziyi’s dedication to earning Ang Lee’s trust is a powerful reminder of how much we value the approval of those we admire. But it makes me question: Is it healthy to work so hard to gain someone’s trust, especially when that person holds so much power? At what point does striving for approval become detrimental to one’s own self-worth or creative freedom? Should artists focus more on self-trust rather than seeking external validation?
BLBac Long
Zhang Ziyi’s experience working with Ang Lee seems like a great example of both professional pressure and opportunity. I wonder though, how much of her self-doubt is something many actors or artists feel when working with a legend? Is it normal to feel that way, or does it indicate a lack of confidence? Can trust really be earned by working hard, or is there more to it, like personal chemistry or shared vision?
NMNguyen Thi Ngoc Mai
I can totally relate to Zhang Ziyi’s sentiment about working hard to earn Ang Lee’s trust. It must have been so nerve-wracking knowing that a director of his caliber had high expectations. But does this kind of pressure create the best work, or does it sometimes make people doubt themselves? How do you balance working hard to gain trust while staying true to your own creative instincts?
LLLinh Le
Zhang Ziyi’s reflection on working with Ang Lee really speaks to the pressure that comes with working with a respected director. The idea of earning trust and striving for perfection is relatable, especially when you’re given a unique opportunity. But I wonder, does this level of pressure ever get to a point where it affects the quality of the work? Can the fear of not meeting expectations hold someone back creatively, or does it drive them to greatness?