Shenhuo Ziu (Life Show, 2002)

Huo Jianqi

China

107, color, Mandarin (English subtitles)

China's transition from a traditional, even if ruffled by communism but really not much changed, society into a modern Western-style harried one, has been the subject, directly or less so (to escape the vigilante censors), of many contemporary mainland films. This is not surprising. What is surprising, is how many of them manage to do justice to the complex and emotionally charged matter without slipping into simple-minded formulaic "solutions" or seeking refuge in some utopian "return to the better ways" improbabilities.

Based on a famous novel, the film is about a divorced woman in her thirties (Tao Hong) who runs a small restaurant in a rapidly becoming obsolete old section of Shanghai. She is strong and secure in what she does but vulnerable in what she is afraid to try. Her forceful and business-like persona helps not only with the restaurant but with assuming the major responsibilities of her family. She takes care of her nephew, whose mother is forever heckling her husband (and brother to the main character) to succeed in the evolving new commercial world. Every success of our heroine reflects as his failure and elicits the scorn and revulsion that is heaped upon her.

She also has another brother who is in a drug rehab clinic, apparently through no choice of his own, and whose young girlfriend works at the restaurant, completely in the dark about his whereabouts. On top of that Hong is engaged in a bureaucratic struggle to regain possession of a house lost during the Cultural Revolution. In a strictly patriarchal society, the dominant role of this woman in the affairs of her family appears incongruous and disturbing of order in the way modernity is. It is thus even more ironic and perhaps sad, that this very woman is unable to escape the clutches of tradition and is ultimately left behind amid the disintegrating and rapidly vanishing stalls of the old bazaar.

Yet she does not give in without a try, however weak and desperate that try turns out to be. An older well-dressed gentleman patiently courts her for a year, coming every evening to the restaurant, gazing at her, yet never really speaking a word until spoken to. Eventually, she gathers the courage to make love to him, and perhaps even fall in love with him. Her focus, however, is not on romance as it is on making a home. But in this their goals diverge sharply when she discovers that he has not the slightest intention of marrying her. She goes back to smoking cigarettes and waiting as life passes her by.

Ultimately, she seeks a traditional solution to a non-traditional problem. How is marriage going to help her? The temporary safety of material reassurance is not comforting to her. It is obvious that her new lover will abandon her when he gets tired of their love-making. Her "solution" is to seek the safety of the permanent commitment that marriage might provide. It is, of course, also illusory, because with modernity, the permanence of marriage vanishes as well. It is really modernity, with its emphasis on personal convenience, individuality, and self-gratification that makes this solution unworkable.

Tao Hong is almost painfully good. I have rarely seen a woman portray such strong emotions with nary a grimace, let alone words. In her chain-smoking pensive solitude she manages to carry the entire film with persuasiveness that surely comes from close identification with the role. The theme must be close to the heart of many Chinese and, albeit to a somewhat lesser extent, is close to the heart of any member of a society undergoing the upheavals of a profound transformation.

The film offers a glimpse into the confused and confusing times of such transformation. And of course, some people swim with the flow, come on top, and become the survivors of tomorrow. Others slowly sink beneath, leaving no trace, vanishing with the beauty of the lost old world. Whether the brave new world is better than the old one cannot tell. Yet the sadness of the passing one is real. Like the people who stay behind with it.

February 8, 2003