The Orphan of Anyang (2001)

**½/****
starring Liu Tianhao, Miao Fuwen, Sun Guilin, Yue Sengyi
written and directed by Wang Chao

by Travis Mackenzie Hoover I feel pain when I have to pan movies like Wang Chao’s The Orphan of Anyang. It’s a film that has absolutely no bad faith on the part of the filmmaker–he wanted to show a slice of Chinese life the censors wouldn’t normally show, and that’s exactly what he does. But his conception is so sparse and so dour that it winds up capsizing these good intentions, resulting in an underwritten and acquiescent film in which we can’t identify the characters beyond their functions in the narrative. It’s not a film that makes you angry at having been cheated, it just makes you numb with anomie and disconnected from the action onscreen–surely not what was intended.

Queen of Swords: FFC Interviews Cheng Pei-pei

CpeipeiinterviewtitleOctober 26, 2002|I confided in the amazingly beautiful Hong Kong action legend Cheng Pei-pei–recently seen as the villainous Jade Fox in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon–that a screening of her classic Shaw Brothers film Come Drink with Me on a grainy bootleg copy as a small child gifted me with both a lifelong love of martial arts films and my first crush. Still lovely and distinguished almost forty years later, Ms. Cheng met me at the Daily Grind coffee shop in the Old Tivoli Brewery, where the Denver Film Society was running the 25th Denver International Film Festival and featuring a new print of Come Drink with Me that was originally struck for this year's Venice Film Festival. She was soft-spoken, polite, and exceedingly gracious; I was stricken by her humility and friendliness–old crushes die hard, I guess. I began by asking Ms. Cheng about her training as a dancer.

DIFF ’02: Together

Together with YouHe ni zai yi qi**/****starring Tang Yun, Chen Hong, Chen Kaige, Liu Peiqiscreenplay by Xue Lu Xiao, Chen Kaigedirected by Chen Kaige by Walter Chaw Sentimental and overlong if beautifully shot and carefully structured, Chen Kaige's latest film Together is, in most respects, very much like his other films despite a contemporary setting. Focusing on music as a metaphor for transcendence and release in a way that has become a recurring hallmark of his career (Life on a String, Farewell My Concubine), Together follows a gifted young violinist, Xiaochen (Tang Yun), who finds that music is his only…

DIFF ’02: Springtime in a Small Town

Xiao cheng zhi chun****/****starring Wu Jun, Bai Qing Xin, Hu Jingfan, Lu Si Siscreenplay by Ah Chengdirected by Tian Zhuangzhuang by Walter Chaw Something like a Renoir film or a Brontë novel, Tian Zhuangzhuang's first feature film in nearly a decade Springtime in a Small Town ("Xiao Cheng Zhi Chun"), a remake of the Fei Mu's 1948 classic, is painterly and patient--a map of the inner rhythms of love and jealousy and sacrifice drawn with a master's steady stroke. The film introduces its three main characters in the same gently swooping style: the sickly scholar in the antebellum ruins of…

A Get-Together with Chen Kaige: FFC Interviews Chen Kaige

CkaigeinterviewtitleOctober 19, 2002|Stentorian in voice and a little dreamy in mien, Chen Kaige ("Tzen KI-guh"), one of the primary members of China's Fifth Generation of filmmakers, is a tribute guest at the 25th Denver International Film Festival. A group that included Zhang Yimou (a cameraman on Kaige's Yellow Earth prior to becoming a director), the Fifth Generation introduced more intimate stories told on a larger scale than the Chinese cinema that came before. It is a movement also marked by remarkably vivid colour schemes, interest in period pieces, and epic tableaux.

DIFF ’02: The Marriage Certificate

Shui shuo wo bu zai hu*/****starring Gong Feng, Liping Luwritten and directed by JianXin Huang by Walter Chaw A miserable, over-directed bit of heated allegorical melodrama, JianXin Huang's The Marriage Certificate seeks to monumentalize the loss of the titular document and its disastrous effect on the marriage between a goofy shrink and his grasping wife into a jab at the rigidity of the communist Chinese bureaucracy. It succeeds in being cutesy in an Amélie sort of way (told from the point-of-view of an insipid little girl complete with bad voiceovers, double ponytail flips, and rough animated skits) while being a…

Happy Times (2000)

幸福时光
Happy Time

*½/****

starring Benshan Zhao, Jie Dong, Biao Fu, Xuejian Li
directed by Zhang Yimou

by Walter Chaw Titled in the same serio-ironic vein as Giuseppe Tornatore’s Everybody’s Fine, Zhang Yimou’s Happy Times aspires for the piquant but only really achieves a sort of ridiculous sourness. It’s a misunderstanding of irony taken to an Alanis Morrisetteian extreme; far from the eventuality being the opposite of the expected, the outcome of Happy Times is the worst kind of cliché, and its execution is so blunt compared to the sharp satirical barb of Yimou’s own Ju Dou that I wonder if Gong Li wasn’t the brains in that long lamented relationship. Still, what works in Happy Times is what has worked in this director’s best work (Shanghai Triad, Raise the Red Lantern, Red Sorghum): mordant social critique so far removed from realism that its status as political allegory is as subtle as a neon sign and a crack to the noggin.

Platform (2000)

***/****
starring Hong Wei Wang, Tao Zhao, Jing Dong Liang, Tian Yi Yang
written and directed by Jia Zhang-Ke

by Travis Mackenzie Hoover To recommend or not to recommend Jia Zhang-ke’s Platform? The question depends on who you are. For those with even a passing interest in Chinese cinema and culture, it’s virtually mandatory viewing: the film is one of the most dense and nuanced portraits of a society in transition from any nation I can think of, and for Westerners, it puts a face to events that we normally hear mentioned only in passing. Those seeking narrative thrills, however, had better look elsewhere, because Platform‘s glacial pace and oppressive mise-en-scène are calculated to test the patience of even the most sympathetic viewer. But even though the film is tough slogging at times (a circumstance I attribute to its having been re-edited for export), those with intellectual priorities are advised to get on this Platform and ride the train to the last stop.

Beijing Bicycle (2001)

***/****
starring Lin Cui, Xun Zhou, Yuanyuan Gao, Shuang Li
screenplay by Peggy Chiao, Hsiao-ming Hsu, Danian Tang, Xiaoshuai Wang
directed by Xiaoshuai Wang

by Walter Chaw The pivotal scene in Wang Xiaoshuai’s Beijing Bicycle comes near the end: a gang of young toughs is chasing a country boy and a city boy through a sprawling labyrinth of houses in a questionable section of Beijing; one says to the other, “What are you doing? This doesn’t concern you.” The other replies, “I don’t know my way out.” Beijing Bicycle is a sparsely-written allegory of political oppression that has the visual style of an early Beat Takeshi film and the poetic reticence of the Chinese people. It is more about looks than speeches, pauses than action–and the degree to which each character finds its voice speaks volumes as to the level of self-sufficiency and freedom that each character possesses.

Time and Tide (2000) – DVD

***/**** Image B+ Sound A- Extras B-
starring Nicholas Tse, Wu Bai, Anthony Wong, Joventino Couto Remotigue
written by Koan Hui & Tsui Hark
directed by Tsui Hark

by Bill Chambers Director Tsui Hark stands apart from his Chinese contemporaries by committing to a tone and relative congruity. Having made a couple of English-language pictures starring a Belgian (the Jean-Claude Van Damme vehicles Double Team and Knock-Off) and been schooled at a Southern Methodist university in Dallas, Hark is formally acquainted with the American mainstream, thankyouverymuch. His (post-Van Damme) Hong Kong import Time and Tide, while still a reminder of why it’s easy for us westerners to become a fan of HK cinema yet a bit of a chore to stay one, seems a learned genre concentrate. Although its plot is by and large in the Asia pulp tradition–that is, of an elusive logic–the film wins us over with phenomenal artistry and energy, and its breathers from the mayhem don’t feel like conceptual U-turns.

Not One Less (1999) – DVD

一個都不能少
Yi ge dou bu neng shao
***/**** Image A Sound B-
starring Wei Minzhi, Zhang Huike, Tian Zhenda, Enman Gao
screenplay by Shi Xiangsheng
directed by Zhang Yimou

by Travis Mackenzie Hoover SPOILER WARNING IN EFFECT. Zhang Yimou's Not One Less, while suffering from a disease of nonspecificity, nevertheless manages to make its points with style and grace. It's not an especially deep film, railing as it does against a poverty that has no known source and, thus, no possible remedy. But even as nonspecific as it tries to keep itself, the film does sink you deep into the problem of poverty in China. The film is at least a cri de cœur for the lost futures of China's rural children, trapped as many are between education and supporting their families. And the cry is voiced beautifully by Hou Yong's cinematography, giving even an impoverished village and dirty city the visual élan that is the hallmark of Zhang's craft. If some subtler analysis gets lost in the interim, you can't have everything.