Call him the anti-blockbuster filmmaker. Huo Jianqi makes quiet, beautiful movies about honest relationships set in the Chinese countryside.
A mid-April blockbuster lull, between Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King and Cold Mountain, is the timing the producers of Nuan selected for its Shanghai release.
It was a wise choice: This quiet time, without the clamor and hype of blockbusters, is the perfect time to enjoy this film, the top prize winner at last year's Tokyo Film Festival.
The movie tells of a simple rural love story based on Chinese writer Mo Yan's short novel "White Dog Swing." Jinghe (played by Guo Xiaodong) returns from Beijing to his countryside hometown that he left 10 years ago for university. On a small bridge, he reunites with his first love Nuan (Li Jia), now
the lame wife of a mute (Teruyuki Kagawa) and mother of a 5-year-old girl. Then the haunting memories begin. Nuan was once a beautiful country girl who could dance like an angel. She, more than anyone else in the village without hope, is the one with the promise to make it out of there to the big city. Three men, including Jinghe, fall in love with Nuan. Yet only one of them is really capable of offering her everlasting comfort.
To feel the emotion flowing from this film, director Huo Jianqi suggests that viewers bring a cool heart instead of a bag of popcorn.
"My films are especially quiet," says Huo. "I'm often soaked in them when I watch myself. I have a strong passion for countryside culture. My films, filled with descriptions of humanity, require with tranquil, calm audience -- only in this mood can you savor the true taste of my movies."
Inspired by the unprecedented box office success of Zhang Yimou's Hero, many Chinese filmmakers are now focusing on mega-budget commercial epics with superstars. But Huo seems to be going in exactly the opposite direction -- telling simple stories about ordinary people. All of Huo's previous films -- from Postman in the Mountains to A Love of Blueness -- centered on honest relationships, creating a unique, unaffected style by minimizing theatrical elements.
Shanghai's largest cinema chain, United Cinema Lines, purchased only five
copies of this art film, well under 20, which is the usual number of imported film copies. But for Huo, it's an improvement. His 1998 award-winning film, Postman in the Mountains, attracted exactly zero Chinese film distributors, and the film's domestic distribution and broadcast rights were finally sold to CCTV's Movie Channel at 480,000 yuan (US$57,800). In a theatrical twist, the sleeper became a huge hit in Japan three year later, and has so far raked in at least 800 million yen (US$7.3 million) from Japanese art cinemas. With an eye to duplicating the success of Postman by more blatantly catering to the Japanese market, Huo invited Japanese actor Teruyuki Kagawa in Nuan. Some caution, however, that China may not be ready for Nuan.
"Due to the pirated DVD market, Chinese are watching more movies than ever," says Wu Hehu, marketing director of Shanghai United Cinema Lines. "But their tastes are fairly consistent -- they love the Hollywood blockbusters and are impatient with the slower-paced art films." Even the film's hero, Guo Xiaodong, says that young people have a strong tastes in movies that veer toward the big blockbuster, although he holds out some hope that Nuan will appeal to audience over 30 years old.
Both the Postman and Nuan are set in the countryside, and feature simple but tasteful storylines that evoke an almost poetic atmosphere. Those elements, plus the subtle portrayal of personal relationships, have been considered typical of Huo's style. It is this simplicity and subtlety that distinguish his movies from Hollywood blockbusters, which captivate audience with dazzling sounds and special effects. Nuan continues in Huo's signature style by telling a simple but affectionate story of a bygone age. Although this film reveals the cruelty of time and reality, Huo artfully narrates the tale.
"I'm a man with a soft heart," Huo admits. "I cannot face too much cruelty. I
would rather create a nice environment. I don't think every piece of art should face reality directly." He emphasizes that it's not simply a love story. "No matter how far you walk, you will never forget your hometown. I want to convey the feeling for native soil in the movie," he adds. His words sound similar to the tasteful end of the film -- no matter how far you go, you cannot forget about your first love.
It's a film that many young people in China, born in rural areas but eventually relocating in the city, can relate to, including the film's star, Guo. Born in the countryside, Guo lived there for almost 20 years, until he went to the Beijing Film Academy. "I would never forget my hometown, a beautiful mountainous village," Guo says. "But when I return, I've found that over time, I have less and less in common with my childhood friends. So I understand my character, Jinghe, I understand why he broke his promise to take Nuan to Beijing 10 years ago."
The film cuts back-in-forth between the present, a dim humid summer and the past, a golden sunny autumn. Memories of falling in love for the first time look as beautiful as postcards: first hug and kiss in the golden billowing wheat fields; drawing opera face makeup on each other; standing on a swing, face to face, as they swing higher and higher.
"This film is not only easy to watch, but also aesthetically beautiful. After watching the movie, I suggest close your eyes and sample the light aftertaste," says Zhu Hongying, a middle-aged film fan. "In rapidly modernizing China, slowing down isn't easy. But in developed countries like Japan busy people want to sit down to enjoy a moment of idyllic quietness. I think today's situation in Japan might be our tomorrow. By then we will regard Huo's calming films as true enjoyment."
Poster
(eastday.com April 23, 2004)
