Jonathan has played the token white guy in more than 60 Chinese films and sitcoms. Not surprisingly, he has more than a few tales to tell about his experiences.

About 200 reporters. That was what the assistant director told me when he said, “Cao Cao! You're always on TV! And you're funny! Why don't you host our press conference?”

This was a big movie, probably the most expensive in China this year – in the order of USD 50 million. We'd shot in 20 different locations all over China. We'd rented the five biggest sound stages in the world. Olga Kurylenko, Quantum of Solace Bond Girl, had been flown over to do a million dollar cameo. And this press conference would introduce it to the world: the doors would be thrown open, the world would look in and, if the producer had his way, say, in an amazed and breathy whisper, “Oh. My. God. Awesome.”

So of course they said, “Let's save the 27 dollars it would cost to get a real host for this incredibly important make or break moment. Let's get Cao Cao to do it for free cuz he's in the movie and like, because of guanxi and stuff!”

“That's not really the kind of hosting I do,” I said.

“It'll be fine,” said the assistant director.

“But I like mostly make fun of shit on TV. It's totally different.”

“Well, I already told the boss you'd do it.”

And therein lay the problem. If I were to host this thing, I would have two audiences.

First was the boss. This was his baby – his money, his script, his dream. So he wanted me to get up in front of the assembled “reporters of the world” and say, in English, “This is the best, most amazing, most stunning movie in the universe. It's better than Star Wars and Avatar and Shakespeare and... and... just like anything ever.”

Second were the foreign reporters he wanted to impress. But foreigners in general, and reporters in particular, regard Chinese things as jokes to be laughed at. They reserve special scorn for the foreigners who get up and make fools of themselves on TV: “Look at Whitey the performing monkey, dancing his little monkey jig and selling his little monkey soul.”

When some retarded Bei Wai student or depressed, self hating, poverty stricken English teacher calls me a performing monkey, to be honest, I don't give (much of) a shit. They're losers. But this was The New York Times, USA Today, The Boston Globe, Le Monde and basically every major paper in the world.

Two days later I walked onto our set.Towering above me like gigantic Posidenic gargoyles were the cliffs and crags of our undersea kingdom. Waiting in the wings were 50 naked Brazilian mermaids. In front of me the reporters were trickling in. I was so nervous I peed four times in the hour before we started.