THOMAS PODVIN’S FREELANCE WORK
Freelance writer - translator - Editor

Ang Lee’s Pushing Hands, The Wedding Banquet and Eat Drink Man Woman helped put Chinese-born directors on the international map in the 1990s, but it was his Oscar-winning films Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2003) and Brokeback Mountain (2005) that propelled him to international superstardom. His most recent effort is Lust, Caution – a return, of sorts, to his Chinese roots. Based on Eileen Chang’s eponymous short story, the film, starring Joan Chen, Tang Wei and Tony Leung, is already gaining accolades, and captured the Golden Lion Award at the Venice Film Festival this past September.

Lee is perhaps most known for his bold versatility that knows no national, cultural or even sexual boundaries – a characteristic that is the focus, among other things, of film writer Whitney Crothers Dilley’s new book The Cinema of Ang Lee: The Other Side of the Screen (Wallflower Press, 2007). Although it would undoubtedly be a valuable tool for academics, this first full-length study of the 50-year-old director’s work is also an accessible and gratifying read for film buffs. The author, who is an associate professor of English at Shih Hsin University in Taipei, not only positions Lee’s work within the context of world cinema but also the roots of the Taiwan-based New Cinema movement. We caught up with Dilley last month to ask her about her take on Lust, Caution.

that’s Beijing: What was Lee’s mindset at the time he was producing Lust, Caution – particularly on the heels of Brokeback Mountain?
Whitney Crothers Dilley: After making The Incredible Hulk, Ang Lee was so depressed he considered retiring – it was his late father who pushed him to continue. So Lee made Brokeback Mountain on a shoe-string budget without expecting it to be a success. I suspect that his father’s wish for him to continue [also] brought him to the point of making Lust, Caution … Lee’s grandparents were from the Chinese mainland, and his parents left for Taiwan just a few years after the end of World War II, so this material also resonates with him personally.

that’s: What are the universal themes of Lust, Caution?
WCD: Lee has been dealing with repressed desires in all of his films – he’s a master at the topic. Another interesting aspect is the strong feminist voice represented by Lust, Caution’s focus on a female lead (played by newcomer Tang Wei). Eileen Chang’s fiction is known for voicing the intricacies of the female psyche – in this narrative, she plays out repressed female sexual desire against the backdrop of the very masculine world of war and corruption.

that’s: How does repressed desire translate in the film?
WCD: Lee brought out an element of the story that was much more subtle in Chang’s narrative: graphic representations of desire and sexuality. Lee was convinced the sex scenes were necessary to fully represent the psychology of the main characters, and he has compared them to the fight sequences in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.

that’s: Bold as it may be, Lust, Caution has been given the strictest rating in the US (NC-17) and was released in a truncated version in China.
WCD: Lee’s films have always been full of risk, both topically and stylistically. His willingness to walk the line between security and insecurity, as I have said in my book, is what makes his work transcendent.

that’s: How has Lee managed to become a bridge between Chinese and American cinema?
WCD: Lee intrinsically understands the gap between Chinese-style art (i.e. martial arts in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon) and American-style art (i.e. the Civil War in Ride With the Devil). He finds the universal themes that appeal to people of both cultures, such as gender differences, cultural identity, family ritual and social duty. It’s very important for Lee to be bold in building bridges between cultures – this is one of the key roles we need to play in an increasingly globalized world.

(c) that's Beijing
Chief editor: Oliver Robinson
November 2007 issue

Sub head:
Cinefile: Five Questions For ...
Alexi Tan, director of John Woo-produced gangster drama Blood Brothers

Alexi Tan’s star-studded directorial debut, Blood Brothers, can be described as a character-driven period film with a modern attitude. Entirely shot in China and set in the 1930s, the film concerns three friends (Daniel Wu, Tony Yang, Liu Ye) who move from the countryside to Shanghai, a glittering city of vice and decadence. There, they do whatever it takes to become rich, risking their friendship in the process.
Educated in London and New York, young director Tan has impressed with a string of award-winning commercials and short films. One of these – Double Blade (2003), shot in LA and starring Taiwanese idol Jay Chou – convinced filmmakers John Woo (The Killer, Bullet in the Head) and Terence Chang to help produce Blood Brothers, a film that Tan sees as a tribute to various film masters.
Indeed, the gangster drama was inspired by themes of honor and brotherhood from Woo’s Hong Kong films, storytelling from Sergio Leone’s spaghetti westerns, and modern attitude from the likes of Quentin Tarantino. Tan sat down with that’s Beijing to discuss his Chinese answer to the western genre.

that’s: Is this a John Woo film or an Alexi Tan film?
Alexi Tan: It’s a combination of all my collaborators' work [costume designer Tim Yip; action director Philip Kwok; cinematographer Michel Taburiaux; producers John Woo and Terence Chang]. John’s hand is there and every time he had an opinion or a say, I would always tell somebody beside me “a master touched my soul.”

that’s: How did you work on the story?
AT: I actually wrote the film with female writer and Beijing native Zhang Dan. I am not a native Mandarin speaker so I was not comfortable with writing a Mandarin script. To be honest, at first I was very wary about working with a female writer, because I was doing a movie about brotherhood and she knew nothing about Sergio Leone’s films. [But] I made the right choice because she was able to inject a lot of things from a woman’s point of view into the female characters. Even if this is a film about brotherhood I made sure that women are not merely fixtures. As a matter of fact, we researched Shu Qi’s character, Lulu, extensively.

that’s: How about the action?
AT: John Woo’s very strong with action and he would tell me how he thought the action of a scene should be done. However, I would tell him I really see this movie like Leone’s Once Upon a Time in the West where the action is real and fast; it’s all about the build up. Like the long wait for a train in the film opening and then the kill is made in a second.

that’s: Indeed, you build tension, whereas Woo can do a non-stop action scene for 30 minutes.
AT: Yes, and … because he can do those things the best, there is no need for me to do a B-grade level of that. This is what would have happened if I had done it that way. He’s done the two guns and dove thing; we have too much respect for him to try and redo it ourselves.

that’s: Did you ever imagine what your directorial debut would be like?
AT: I dreamt about it, that’s for sure. When I was shooting the film it was really strange; it never really occurred to me what was going on. After the film, I really realized that John Woo produced the film and he was telling everyone he was supporting me. When I am watching the film now there are, of course, many elements that I’d like to redo. If they let me re-shoot now I would delay the whole premier – I am my own worst critic.

Blood Brothers hits cinemas across town on August 16.

(c) that's Beijing Magazine
Deputy Chief editor: Oliver Robinson
August 2007 issue

While interviewing New York-based theater and opera director Chen Shi-Zheng, the story of the deadliest shooting in US history on the campus of Virginia Tech, was making headlines around the world. Which proves that truth is stranger than fiction. Granted, the US has long been plagued by expressions of violence, in part because of its notoriously liberal gun laws. But news of the latest massacre added a weird element to the discussion with the Changsha-born director. Chen’s US-financed directorial debut Dark Matter (DM) is based on a similar event that occurred 16 years ago in the University of Iowa.

Indeed, it concerns the real life story of Lu Gang, a Chinese physics student enrolled in a PHD program who shot and killed five people and wounded one before turning the gun on himself in 1991. Yet Chen’s film goes far deeper than the newspaper headlines, exploring cultural shock, unscrupulous academic competition, university politics and disenchantment.

Starring Liu Ye (Curse of the Golden Flower), Meryl Streep (The Devil Wears Prada) and Aidan Quinn (This Is My Father), DM reflects on how young Chinese immigrants struggle to make their mark in a culture that is at once seductive and impenetrable. And how in the process, they often downscale their American dreams to fit American realities. Lu Gang’s on-screen alter ego Liu Xing, played by Liu Ye, is however an extreme example in that he refuses to compromise. A promising physics student, he devotes himself to research on dark matter, an uncharted area of modern astrophysics. Quickly appreciated as a brilliant scholar by his advisors, he nevertheless struggles to grasp the politics and social dynamics of an American university, with tragic results. When his chance of achieving success is dashed by school politics, he unleashes his rage on his former mentor and colleagues.

DM doesn’t focus on the actual killing spree, nor does it offer pat explanations. What’s important here is that Chen fills the gaps before the final showdown using his own experience. He, too, was an uprooted Chinese living and working in the US. And he, too, was torn between admiration and puzzlement.

Before immigrating to the United States in 1987 and graduating from the New York Tisch School of the Arts in performance studies, the now 44-year-old director made a living singing Elvis Presley songs in Mandarin, as well as traditional Chinese operas. Talented and versatile – much like the King – Chen has worked to create new artistic forms of expression as a director, a choreographer, singer and actor. To do so, he has crossed boundaries between music, opera, theater and dance and produced some intriguing variations of the classics (Peach Blossom Fan, The Peony Pavilion, Orfeo, The Return of Ulysses), works that he has staged around the world (France, Denmark, the US, Hong Kong and Singapore). DM, which won the Alfred P. Sloan Prize at the 2007 Sundance Film Festival, is Chen’s opportunity to break out of the theater’s four walls and tell a modern life-and-death story on film.

Below, Chen discusses life in the US, violence, Dark Matter and his latest opera project.

that’s: Many young Chinese dream of studying in the US. Is DM a warning that they should pursue their dreams with caution?
Chen Shi-Zheng (CSZ): I definitely did not make it as a guidebook or warning for Chinese students studying in America, although I hope they will be part of the film’s much wider, global audience. Dark Matter is concerned with disillusionment, power and the urgent importance of really paying attention to each other and trying to understand cultural differences. It’s also about how individuals perceive and react to pressure, and by that I don’t mean just Lu Xing, but also all of the other main characters, and what motivates them to do the things they do.

that’s: The US is seen to embody a culture of violence. Might Lu Gang or the character of Liu Xing have reacted differently in another environment?
CSZ: It is absolutely incorrect to characterize the US as a violent country. Violence happens there, yes, but violence happens everywhere, and there are certainly countries that are far more violent – even in Asia. It’s generally a very peaceful place, which is why the news media focuses so much on violent incidents, giving maybe people outside the US an exaggerated idea about it. I didn’t know Lu Gang, and I doubt that even anyone who did could say how he would or wouldn’t be in different circumstances, or why this happened seemingly so suddenly. In fact, one of the criticisms I’ve gotten about Dark Matter is that there’s no indication before the tragic ending that anything is wrong. From what I have researched about the actual incident, it seems that nobody saw it coming; Lu Gang just suddenly snapped. Even though Liu Xing is a completely fictionalized character, I did try to capture that idea in the film.

that’s: You portray Liu Xing’s attempts to negotiate between his expectations and reality as a failure.
CSZ: Generally speaking, it is very common for anyone who leaves one country for another to have unrealistic expectations. You go because you have extremely high hopes that your life will be better than it was in the country you left. Then it’s a bit shocking to find out that it is not a perfect paradise. How you handle that disillusionment is probably more a matter of personality than anything else. In the case of Liu Xing, he thought he would have complete freedom to make an impact on science and get a lot of support for his work from his idol, his professor, but he ran into a resistance he didn’t expect and the result of course was very tragic.

that’s: How autobiographical is DM?
CSZ: It is not autobiographical. As an artist, of course my own experiences are expressed on some level through my work, and yes, I did (and still often do) feel a sense of dislocation in the US. But I also think that artists generally feel like outsiders wherever they are.

that’s: How might outsiders – Chinese immigrants, for example – prepare themselves for life abroad, especially in the USA?
CSZ: I’ve been in the United States for quite a while now, since 1987. Times have changed both in China and the US since then, and I think that my expectations at the time were probably different from the expectations that young Chinese students have now. Also, you can’t really say that New York City is typical of the US. In NY, there are so many people from so many different races, backgrounds, countries and experiences that in a way you can feel very comfortable there, because everyone is different. In other parts of the country I feel more aware of being Chinese and different from the people who grew up in places like the Midwest. It’s very clear to me, though, that it is crucial for all sides to be open-minded and tolerant of each other’s differences and to realize that we’re all part of the same human race.

that’s: Your three leads – Liu Ye, Meryl Streep and Aidan Quinn – also come from very different backgrounds. How did you integrate their diverse approaches to the film?
CSZ: They were all amazing, and working with them was a great gift I will always treasure. They are completely professional and communicated on the level of brilliant actors. In the theater and opera world I have been mixing Eastern and Western elements together for a long time and have come to understand how the approach in each tradition is fundamentally different. As a director, I am kind of a bridge between them and I ask each side to experiment with the other’s approach. It’s very exciting, because it always creates something completely new and unique that is beyond East meets West.

that’s: Liu Ye is a very versatile actor who has appeared in Chinese blockbusters (The Promise) and art-house films (Lan Yu). What did he bring to the role of Lu Gang?
CSZ: He’s so brilliant and has such great instincts as an actor that I wanted to give him a lot of space to find the core of the character. I also loved the idea that it was his first time in the US and I wanted to capture his real reactions to it, to get a very genuine feel. I didn’t want him to be too rehearsed or studied. I’m really happy with the results; he’s great and he gave a very honest performance.

that’s: This is your first feature film. What differences did you find between working on film and the stage?
CSZ: On the stage everything happens live, so if there is a mistake there is nothing you can do about it. In film you can have multiple takes. But actually, this film was made with such a limited budget and on such a tight schedule – we shot the whole thing in just 21 days in Utah and three days in China – that in itself it was very challenging. The upside is that a film will potentially be seen by many more people. It also exists as a tangible, material thing, whereas with live theater or opera, when it’s over it’s gone.

that’s: Your current project is altogether different. Monkey: Journey to the West is an opera/circus spectacle involving 45 Chinese circus acrobats, vocalists and martial artists.
CSZ: This is a really exciting project. I am working with Gorillaz [the award-winning virtual Brit-pop band], who are an amazingly talented couple of guys [composer Damon Albarn and animation designer Jamie Hewlett] who also happen to be really “hot”, especially with young adults. I wanted to take a new look at this important Chinese classic that is not only serious but also wildly imaginative and fun. I’ve spent the last two years casting the performers for a huge number of roles from among circus companies and other performance groups. Monkey is a combination of live performance and animation, so it is very complicated, and we worked very hard to get it ready for the premier in Manchester, England last June. It will also go to Théâtre du Chatelet in Paris, and then to the State Opera House in Berlin this summer, and I believe also to the Lincoln Center Festival in New York next year.

Special thanks to Kathrin Veser
Photo courtesy of American Sterling Communications LLC

(c) that's Shanghai Magazine
Chief editor: Steven Crane
July 2007 issue

Published in a shorter version in that's Beijing
Chief editor: Oliver Robinson
July 2007 issue

This month, Chinese filmmakers and moviegoers celebrated the tenth anniversary of the return of Hong Kong to the motherland. Arguably, very few works on the big screen have come to represent this decade as aptly as Andrew Lau’s and Alan Mak’s trilogy Infernal Affairs (IA), starring Andy Lau, Tony Leung Chiu Wai and Kelly Chen. Immensely successful and influential, the film relates the uncertainties of the Hong Kong people (citizens and filmmakers alike) prior to and after the 1997 handover.

“The IA trilogy speaks of the times,” writes Gina Marchetti in her insightful and accessible book, Andrew Lau and Alan Mak’s Infernal Affairs – The Trilogy. An Associate Professor in the Department of Comparative Literature at the University of Hong Kong, Marchetti has written several volumes on Chinese cinema. In her new book, published this year and edited by the Hong Kong University Press, she explores, among other things, the significance of IA in the last decade. It’s hard to compare the history of the new Special Administrative Region and its cinema with anything that came before. In the period following the handover, the people of Hong Kong have endured much hardship (the SARS outbreak; the Asian financial crisis, the death of superstar Leslie Cheung; rising unemployment and the collapse of the local film industry). Hence, this decade might be termed the era of existential doubts.

“Not all films or film series lend themselves to book-length study,” says Marchetti, who has peeled away IA’s multiple layers to reveal its underlying themes. The deceptively simple plot is much more than a cat and mouse tale about two moles, one a triad member working in the Hong Kong police department and the other a cop passing as a mobster. The film also concerns Hong Kong history, Chinese religion and moral philosophy, global capitalism, the dynamics of the Hong Kong film industry and much more besides.

If the trilogy speaks of the times, its depth also speaks to the audience. After years of avoiding the cinema – in part because of rampant piracy, but also due to the rise of home video and cable TV – the release of IA saw locals once again queuing for tickets. Indeed, box office receipts broke new records (HKD 54 million, HKD 25 million and HKD 30 million, respectively for each of the three films).

In short, IA was soon regarded as a significant cinematic achievement, one that few industry observers had predicted. And that success came at time (2002) when confidence in the industry was very low indeed. Explains Marchetti: “[Infernal Affairs] helped to show that Hong Kong could still produce a film that could make a profit.” Even Hollywood took notice. Last year, the first entry in the series was re-made (and re-set in south Boston) by Martin Scorsese; the resulting film, The Departed, featured a US superstar-studded cast and won multiple Academy Awards. Scorsese’s version grasped the film's universal appeal: the struggle with identity in a complex urban environment. “The experience of Hong Kong as a place [as portrayed in IA] – constantly changing, global, at the cutting edge of economic and social trends – speaks to viewers who live in similarly cosmopolitan, highly competitive, consumer-saturated environments,” says Marchetti.

But many critics of the American version argue that Scorsese failed to capture IA’s depth. Comments Charles Leary, a professor of Hong Kong film history at New York University, “The Departed does not have the epic scope of the IA trilogy and the sense of history in the making.”

That said, Marchetti insists that though many viewers prefer the original, “both films need to be taken seriously.” While IA depicted Hong Kong and the Chinese mainland in the decade following the handover, The Departed has a lot to say about the state of America today and its institutions, especially post-9/11. “If Hong Kong suffered a crisis in its identity and the legitimacy of its key institutions after 1997,” says Marchetti, “then the US suffered a similar crisis after Bush’s response to 9-11 with [for instance] the bankruptcy of its political institutions after the invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq.”

Info on Marchetti's book is available at: http://www.hkupress.org

(c) that's Shanghai Magazine
Chief editor: Steven Crane
July 2007 issue

Published in a different version in that's Beijing
Chief editor: Oliver Robinson
July 2007 issue

Lost in Beijing (LIB) revolves around an odd love rectangle, a ménage á quatre, to be precise. It tells the story of two couples living under the same roof, bound by emotional and financial ties. A creation of the young, Shandong-born filmmaker Li Yu (Dam Street,2005), the film offers a unique, albeit awkward, premise that has stirred much controversy at home and abroad.

Two outsiders, Liu Pingguo (Fan Bingbing) and her husband An Kun (Tong Dawei), venture into the big city to search for employment. Liu finds work as a masseuse while An works as a window cleaner. One evening Liu finds herself at a company party and while highly inebriated is abused by her boss Lin Dong (Tony Leung Kar-fai). An witnesses the assault and is furious, yet when he realizes his wife is pregnant, he considers the financial rewards of blackmail. Eventually, Liu, An, Lin and his wife find themselves an unconventional solution.

Li’s third directorial effort focuses on the urban nouveau riche and young rural workers against the backdrop of a fast-changing society. We caught up with 34-year-old Li to discuss just how she became lost in Beijing.

that’s: What inspired you to make this film?
Li Yu (LY): The concept of this film is to explore the value of life in today’s China in the context of its fast-growing economy and material modernization. Film to me is a dream that reflects my feelings about our world. The inspiration comes from my feelings of excitement and also my concern about these changes. Changes in our material circumstances often challenge our priorities in regards to money, love, family and friendship. I just hope that people won’t get confused during this period of transition. I hope this film will not upset people but remind them that there is something else, something that may be more important than money. We have to face reality and think carefully about the importance of love in our lives.

that’s: With its setting and multiple perspectives, LIB would make a good premise for a TV series. Did you have that in mind when you created it?
LY: I don’t know if LIB is suitable for adaptation. I personally don’t like TV series. I was working for CCTV for a while but I mainly shot documentaries. I benefited a lot from that experience in terms of exploring the lives of Chinese.

that’s: How was the experience of working with veteran Hong Kong actor Tony Leung Kar-fai and Chinese mainland actress Fan Bingbing?
LY: Even though I am a young director, I don’t consider these actors as stars. Rather they are partners working together with me to make the film. I respect their experience, but I pay more attention to their attitudes toward the characters. I am thankful for their effort and their contributions to this film.

that’s: Dam Street (which won the C.I.C.A.E. Award at the Venice International Film Festival in 2005) drew much more attention overseas than in China. With LIB were you trying to make a more commercial film for the Chinese audience?
LY: Dam Street could have had better distribution [in China] if we had experience, and worked with a more experienced domestic distributor. In general, I respect the producer (Fang Li) and the way he gave focus and direction to our film even while writing the script. We wanted to share our views with the audience, not just tell them what we think and feel.

(c) that's Shanghai Magazine
Chief editor: Steven Crane
May 2007 issue

Also published in a different form in (c) that's Beijing Magazine
Deputy Chief editor: Oliver Robinson
May 2007 issue

On Valentine’s Day, moviegoing couples have two choices: romantic flicks or scary pics. The first choice is obvious, but the second is more useful primarily for the shudder that melts into a cuddle. Beijing-born filmmaker Teng Huatao (Sky of Love) and his backers, the film company Huayi Brothers, are releasing The Matrimony (Xin Zhong You Gui) around Valentine’s Day because they’re betting that lovestruck moviegoers will take objects of their infatuation to theaters in the hope of experiencing this phenomenon.

Teng says that when he and his producers planned the making of The Matrimony, they realized that China had a lousy track record with ghost stories, and that it fell to them to correct that. “In the past there were never really superior [Chinese] ghost movies, despite their popularity with audiences and critics,” says Teng. “There were only small budget films with simple stories.”

For this reason, he and his crew felt that they had to pack The Matrimony with the best in the business – a great cast, solid story, eerie ambiance and believable effects. The 38-year-old film director harnessed a budget of RMB 30 million (USD 3.83 million) to whip up something to please couples on Valentine’s Day: a piece blending romance with spooky intrigue.

The film’s plot concerns a newlywed couple who become mixed up with the world of ghosts. When the husband (Leon Lai) forbids his wife (Rene Liu) from entering the attic of their new house, the nosy wife inevitably defies his wishes. Inside the attic, she discovers a restless, spectral former girlfriend (Fan Bingbing) who died in a car accident before the two could get married.

The Matrimony is set in 1930s Shanghai, which evokes an era caught between tradition and modernity. Mainly shot on location in Shanghai, the film plays off the clash of ambiance between the thrilling, macabre moments and the romantic scenes.

Teng said that he wanted to avoid clichés from Western horror movies in order to achieve a more “Chinese approach” to ghost tales – that is, a ghost story with sexy specters. Ghost movies in China have often been associated with young beauties that passed away, but got stuck in the world of the living because there was something they couldn’t forget or forgive. A fine case in point was Tsui Hark’s 1980s trilogy A Chinese Ghost Story, which was set in ancient China and wherein a ravishing female ghost seduces a tax collector.

Teng’s choice for the role of the ghost was therefore key. He says that Fan Bingbing, with her full yet slender face, dark brow and huge, round eyes, was the best candidate for the challenging role.

“I’ve always thought she looked like a female ghost,” jokes Teng. “In China we have many famous novels in which ghosts are all stunning beauties, so inevitably people will associate her with ghosts.”

To beef up the movie’s star power, Hong Kong superstar Leon Lai was cast as the husband who cannot get over his late fiancé. Lai’s mellow personality matches his low-spirited character.

Still, Teng says that a good plot, a moody backdrop and big names aren’t enough to draw a crowd; top-notch production values are essential. “For a ghost and horror movie, the soundtrack is essential – if you turn off the sound, scary movies don’t seem horrific at all,” says Teng.

The visual and sound effects were processed by Hong Kong-based Chibi Digital Vision, which was responsible for the audio-visual extravaganza that was 2006’s Dragon Tiger Gate. Besides the soundtrack, the effects are responsible for metamorphosing Fan into a ghastly gui (Chinese ghost) desperately looking for love.

And while love draws Fan’s haunting spirit to the human world, Teng trusts that similar emotions will draw those in the mood into theaters – and into the embraces of their paramour.

(c) that's Beijing Magazine
Chief editor: Gwynn Guilford
February 2007 issue

When Sun Yat-sen proposed in 1919 to build a dam on the Yangtze River, he probably didn’t appreciate just to what extent such a Herculean project and the colossal impact it would have on the local population. Seventy four years later and the Three Gorges Dam (in Yichang, Hubei Province) eventually started and was completed in May last year, becoming the largest hydroelectric dam in the world, and involving the relocation of more than 1.3 million people.

Despite being such a huge project, director Jia Zhangke takes his usual insightful look into human struggle that has seen him hailed overseas for his depiction of contemporary China in Still Life (Good People of the Three Gorges), his fifth film to date and his second movie to be released in China nationwide after The World.

Shot on HD, and using a documentary-style approach, the 36-year-old filmmaker offers a contemplative look at the emotional malaise within the rubble of Fengjie, a city at the foot of the dam. Two unconnected individuals from Shanxi, a coalminer (Han Sanming) and a nurse (Zhao Tao), search for their loved ones while wandering in an odd Imagelandscape of ruins, mountains and flooded lands. Eventually, they found something they didn’t expect they would.

Just as unexpected, was Still Life’s last-minute entry in competition at the 63rd Venice International Film Festival in September where Jia pocketed the Golden Lion award, the Western world’s ultimate sign of acknowledgement of Jia’s cinematic significance.

Jia talks with that’s about Still Life’s balancing act of realism and surrealism.

that’s: What is Still Life about?
Jia Zhangke: The focus of this movie is the impact of the Three Gorges Dam construction project on the lives of common people. I didn’t want to elevate the film to a sociological piece; it isn’t a movie to address societal problems actually. What I wanted to do was to look at the dam project from the angle of the locals. Of course they’re always affected by the society, but I didn’t want to just stop there. I wanted to show the strong will of the residents to confront the difficulties and how they survive.

that’s: The number of displaced locals exceeds the State of Idaho population. Did you witness any of it?
JZK: I didn’t witness the departure of people. Everything was just gone forever. It is very surrealistic; 1.3 million people left their land instantly. When I arrived there, there was even no trace left [of their lives] on this land. The saddest thing is that such an old city just disappeared under waters. The city has more than 2000 years of history and is attached to some wonderful cultural heritage such as the poems of Li Bai and the story of The Romance of the Three Kingdoms.

that’s: Why was Still Life presented at the last minute at the Venice Film Festival?
JZK: After I completed the rough cut, the Venice selection committee watched it and loved it. Unfortunately my father passed away during this period and I suspended all my work. Even so, they were still very persistent and wanted me to go back to work in July 2006 [to complete post production]. We all were afraid that I wouldn’t be able to finish it on time for the festival. Therefore we reached the agreement to present it as a surprise film; if I couldn’t finish it on time they would have found another movie.

that’s: Some scenes are bizarre, surreal even; there UFO flying around, a tight-rope walker and a building launched like a space shuttle. Explain.
JZK: The movie blends the reality with the two lead-character difficulties, their memories and their hope and imagination for the future. At the end of this movie, there are acrobatics to show this surrealism. It’s true that it’s kind of magical. Actually surrealism might just be the reality of modern China. China develops at an amazingly fast pace and there’s strong surrealistic side effects resulting from this development. Here, a city with a 2,400-year history got demolished in two years and more than one million people vanished instantly. From a certain viewpoint it shows the situation in China.

that’s: The movie’s a slow pace, with sometimes comedic moments. Why?
JZK: It’s the real pace of this city. From this languidity, you can understand the quickness of the [city] demolition and the departure of people. [So] this reality is sad and heavy. The contrast between the sad parts and the humor serves to emphasize the vitality and optimism of these people.

that’s: The humor works very well; your next film might as well be a comedy.
JZK: I haven’t thought about that yet, but I do like humor. I think Chinese people don’t lead a daily life with a long face and a sad mind. People should live with a smile.

c) that's PRD Magazine
Chief editor: Phil Boyle
December 2006 issue

Published in a slighlty different form in that's Shanghai Magazine
Chief editor: Steven Crane
February 2007 issue

and in that's Beijing Magazine
Deputy chief editor: Gwynn Guilford
January 2007 issue