PC Translations

Francis Ng and Yu Nan star in Deadly Delicious, a story about a man who cheats on his wife… and gets poisoned.

The upcoming film by Ang Lee is one I will be watching for with some anticipation.  It looks like it has the potential to be a very captivating movie.

Andy Lau’s film World Without Thieves is one of my favorite Chiense movies. I enjoyed watching it on DVD with some friends, huddling under blankets on a very cold New Year’s Eve.

World Without Thieves surprised me by how touching it is — I really enjoyed the portrayal of the relationship between the couple. And Lau’s acting, as always, was outstanding.

I think World Without Thieves might be one of the Chinese films that is more accessible for Western audiences. If you like watching foreign films, this is one I can recommend.

Peacock is a unique Chinese movie. It is set during the Cultural Revolution, and it shows how hard life was for most people living in China during that time. But that isn’t what is unique about it. Instead, what is different is that the film doesn’t focus on those difficulties. The difficulties during that time do not form the story. Instead, they are the backdrop against which the story plays out. The story, however, is that of a family. It happens that they suffer the usual things faced during the Cultural Revolution, but the suffering and the struggling is not what the movie is all about.

The matter-of-fact treatment of that period of time is a real break from the mold. Usually, the struggle is the story in movies set during this period of China’s history. Not here. Here, it’s just the story of 3 siblings and how their lives played out.

I wonder what this matter-of-fact treatment means? Could it be that this horrific part of human history has just been taken on board, treated as a part of life?

Hm.

Crazy Stone is a crazily funny Chinese movie. I loved its circularity, its zany connections, and how disjointed it all was… and yet how it all flowed together.

Recently, after watching Babel with a friend, she bemoaned the fact that all these circuitous narratives, seemingly disjointed but ultimately connected by odd circumstances, and spanning cultures… how all these sorts of films (that are so popular these days) have to have a dreary, dark outlook on things. Crazy Stone is the exception. I found it an excellent counterbalance to all of that. Wonderful film, and hilarious too.

The Soong Sisters is a very nice film about three sisters who were closely involved in the politics of a very troubling period in China’s history. The middle sister married Sun Yat Sen, and the youngest married Chiang Kai Shek. The personal and political turmoil and drama experienced seems like it was put together especially for a movie like this one. While the film is certainly a bit of propaganda, that doesn’t diminish its usefulness, nor how interesting it is.

It is available at B&N here: Soong Sisters

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This is an entry I wrote at my other blog some time back. It will give some background to the film:

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Sun Yat Sen is perhaps one of the most important figures in Chinese thought in the past 100 or so years. Whether in Mainland China or in parts outside of the Mainland that claim Chinese culture as their heritage, Dr. Sun’s thought is highly revered, and the man is taken as an example of good philosophy and good living.

Sun was a leader of the revolution which overthrew the Qing dynasty in 1911, and was president of the newly founded republic and of the Kuomintang party (that’s Guo Min Dang in pinyin, but usually still KMT in most English writing about the party). Of course, it wasn’t as easy as I’ve made it sound there for him to go from revolutionary to president. He spent some time in exile from his home country and was constantly on the run during the years before the overthrow of the Qing dynasty was finally achieved. But he was ultimately successful in his efforts, leaving him a legacy that is much respected throughout the Chinese world.

What I find interesting about Dr. Sun is just how many different people seek to claim him as their own. In China, he is known as the father of the New China, and his remains rest in a huge mausoleum in Nanjing. It is an impressive walk up to see this structure, and he is beautifully represented within. I found it fitting that the statues of him in the outer hall have him dressed in traditional Chinese clothing, but the statue lying atop the tomb depicts him in a Western suit. Dr. Sun, while he was very anti-imperialist and all for an independent China, was not a man who rejected the West as evil, as so many subsequent Chinese thinkers/politicians (especially from the mainland) sought to do. He learned from his time spent in exile (in the US, the UK, and Japan) and didn’t throw out the baby with the bath water when he rejected those nations’ claims on China.

In Taiwan, Dr. Sun is likewise revered. There is a National Sun Yat Sen University as well as a national memorial hall dedicated to him in Taipei. Like Communist China, the Republic of China in Taiwan has some legitimate claim to Sun. He did found the KMT (the band which eventually ran off to Taiwan when the communists took over the mainland), and he did name Chiang Kai Shek head of the Whampoa Military Academy. Ultimately, it was this that set Chiang up in the position of power from which he fought against the communists, seeking to wipe them out.

Wikipedia points out this same irony I have noted about Sun. In China, he is called the “forerunner of the revolution.” In Taiwan, he is “national father.” Everyone wants a claim on Sun, and so everyone has a special name they place on him. (Again, the power of naming.) The thing is, of course, that Sun’s thought and life work is open to this naming-and-claiming. He sought to unify China, and openly worked with the communists to achieve this, even stating in a letter to Stalin that he hoped the movement he started would be inseparably linked to Stalinist thought in the pages of history. On the other hand, Chiang in his leadership of the KMT was a firm believer that the best way to achieve Sun’s objective of a unified China was to rid China of the communists. This led to some bloody battles and massacres at that period in Chinese history, and the eventual rift between Taiwan and the Mainland, all in the name of Sun’s ideals of a unified China.

I suppose the whole telling of Sun’s story, and the different versions we see coming out of Mainland China and Taiwan, is related to the subjective nature of representation in human communication. But I do find it interesting how inviting it is, at least for Chinese politicians, to try to lay claim to Sun and name him as one of “ours.” Which, I think, opens up huge questions about politics, intepretation, and the often power-driven motives behind writing and representation.

I posted this some months back at my other blog:

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As I have admitted elsewhere, I am no expert on Chinese film, but I do watch and appreciate a fair amount of Chinese movies. I recently watched The Gua Sha Treatment, starring Tony Ka Fai Leung and Jiang Wen Li, and found it a movie that many foreigners would find accessible and enjoyable — probably even more so than one of my favorites, To Live, which I introduced some time back. One reason many “outsiders” might find it more accessible is that most of the dialogue is in English, which will probably make it immediately easier to get into. Also, it is set in St. Louis, and addresses issues that are as much of a concern to viewers outside of China as inside. It addresses some universal themes, and is also set in a more modern day setting. All of that probably adds up to a film that is more approachable by outsiders than a lot of Chinese movies are.

My friends and I who watched the show together all really enjoyed it — perhaps more than we expected to. The story is about a family from Beijing who has migrated to St. Louis and is achieving the American Dream. Their little boy suffers an accident, and in the hospital, an investigation begins when horrible bruises are found on his back. Naturally, state welfare services want to investigate whether the boy is living in a safe environment. What they don’t realize is that the bruises were received when the boy underwent Gua Sha treatment, a Chinese medical practice.

From this starting point, the story unravels beautifullly. I love how it both covertly and overtly highlights some aspects that are very important to Chinese culture, but misunderstood or even despised in St. Louis. It is a movie about cultural awareness/sensitivity/appreciation; about misunderstandings and misperceptions; about struggling with hardships when chasing one’s dreams; about the sacrifices a father makes for his son, and a son makes for his father. It was a very moving film.

The movie isn’t available at either Amazon or B&N, but it is available here from a Singapore company (I bought mine in Shanghai), and you might could check the link above. It is a very nice film — one that makes you think while it touches and entertains.

Kung Fu Hustle is one of my favorite Chinese movies. It was a funny film, and made me laugh out loud several times. But it was also very beautiful.

Steven Chow is known for his humor. I remember when I first started watching Chinese movies, he was one of the most accessible actors for me to follow, mostly because his humor is very physical. Much like Jackie Chan, Chow uses his whole body to engage the audience, and to get a laugh.

Kung Fu Hustle was all that, and yet was also a beautiful film. Chow said he wanted the film to be a tribute to Bruce Lee, and some big name actors came together to make that possible. It was really a special endeavor, and well done. I think the film will be a favorite for years to come.

I wish I were more of an expert in Chinese film, and could do a better job introducing some of the great movies being made in China. But I have barely scratched the surface of the Chinese film industry, really. But there is one movie that I just have to tell you about. It captures something essential within the spirit of modern China that just begs to be introduced to a larger audience.

The film is Zhang Yimou’s To Live, starring Gong Li and Ge You. It is a beautifully made film, spanning the period of time from the 1940’s to the 1970’s in China.

What I love about the movie is the way it captures a sort of stubborn hope exhibited by the Chinese people. I wouldn’t dispute the notion that Chinese culture is often quite pessimistic, and would even give my firm agreement with such observations as those made by Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl Wudunn in their insightful book China Wakes. But the movie captures a sort of balancing force for that perceived pessimism. In the film, what we see is a tendency toward laughter in the face of adversity (and the family in the movie sees it all!), and a stubborn refusal to give in to the notion that life isn’t worth it.

The movie makes me think. I don’t know where this stubborn hope comes from, but it is something I have seen not just on the screen, but in the lives of real people here in China. Talk all you want about the hardships of the Cultural Revolution, Tiananmen, and the “burden of history.” But the fact remains — these people hope. They continue, despite all that, to struggle to make life better. And they don’t just go about it somberly and dispassionately. They go about it with a laugh, and I mean a good belly laugh. I don’t know where they find the fortitude or the inspiration for that laugh. I wonder if I have the strength of character to laugh like that in spite of all hardships.

I haven’t suffered in my life. Not like the characters in To Live, anyway. Nor like many of my peers and friends in China. I wonder why it is, then, that life can seem so daunting to me, sometimes? I wonder why it is so tempting to throw in the towel when, frankly, I’ve had it easy?

I hope I can find the fortitude to laugh at adversity. And I hope I can always find the strength, no matter what comes along, to live.