IT'S A STORY THAT sounds too far-fetched to be true. A migrant worker travels thousands of kilometres, braving temperamental transport and tempestuous weather to take the corpse of a friend home - all because of a casual promise he made that he would give him a proper burial to prevent him from becoming a roaming 'hungry ghost'. When the story ran in the Guangzhou-based newspaper Southern Weekend, a heated debate ensued across the country: some people saw the farmer's deed as a sign of the power of superstition in rural China, while others applauded his commitment.
It didn't take long for the story to catch the attention of mainland director Zhang Yang, and a year later Getting Home was in the can, vividly documenting the struggle of a penniless migrant fulfilling his pledge to a fellow wanderer. 'For Chinese farmers, their homeland is their roots,' says the 39-year-old Beijing native. 'The story is a journey to find their roots. It's a good subject for a road movie.'
Getting Home, however, is hardly a gritty tragedy. Instead, Zhang has conjured a black comedy out of the story. The main character, Old Zhao, with an upbeat take on life, is a peasant who's determined to overcome the difficulties of his journey with wit and will. 'I don't want to make it sad,' Zhang says. 'Someone on such a mission should be optimistic or he'd find it hard to continue. You can find that trait within the underdog mentality in China. It's an attitude I appreciate. I think I have it as well.'
If he does, it's not showing. A stern chain-smoker, Zhang says he's 'a pretty serious man, actually'. Perhaps his optimism can be found only in his works.
His first film, Spicy Love Soup (1998), is a comic look at Chinese marriage and dating among different age groups. His much-lauded second work, Shower (1999), takes a comical look at a man returning home in the mistaken belief that his father has died and then struggling between his modern habits and his family's traditional lifestyle. Even in the heavier Quitting (2001) and Sunflower (2005), there's an understated humour.
'A good film should have some humour,' he says. 'It makes the film more appealing and adds some power to your characters. Tears among laughter are always more powerful than simple bitterness.'