Advertisement
Advertisement

Chinese characters

Although failing to win any prizes on the Croisette, Chinese filmmakers gave their all at this year's Cannes Film Festival, revealing the historical schisms and social realities shaping what is now seen as the world's emergent economic powerhouse.

Wang Xiaoshuai's Chongqing Blues is a nuanced study of how material excess - in the shape of new skyscrapers, commodity-filled malls and widespread use of the internet in daily life - spawns alienation among both the old and (especially) the young.

On the strength of 18 talking-head interviews, footage from nine films and some newly-shot sequences, Jia Zhangke's I Wish I Knew attempts to reconstruct the contemporary history of Shanghai. It is a canny production, cashing in on the city's prominence as the host of this year's World Expo.

Measured and cerebral, both Wang's and Jia's films offer international audiences a glimpse of the complex problems obscured by the glamorous, official sheen.

In Chongqing Blues, a father's investigations into the death of his wastrel son could be seen as a metaphor for the death of old-school social values on the mainland.

Less fully formed and politically engaged, but an ambitious project nevertheless, I Wish I Knew also presents a myriad personalities whose ancestors played a role in Shanghai's colourful history over the past century.

A more interesting revelation, however, is the way China and its people were represented by foreign filmmakers at the festival this year. Thankfully, those who elected to include Chinese characters in their Cannes entries steered clear of toying with that much-peddled Hollywood caricature of the Chinese as sneaky, monosyllabic mobsters.

Admittedly, foreign directors continue to portray the Chinese diaspora as interlopers in their host societies, but at least the characters look more human, and also help to reflect China's changing standing in the world.

In Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu's Biutiful, set in Barcelona, the Chinese presence is key to the story of the lead character, Javier Bardem's struggling fixer Uxbal.

One of the many people he does business with is Hai (played by mainland actor Cheng Taisheng), who runs a sweatshop and also provides squalid accommodation for the illegal Chinese immigrants who work on construction sites for Uxbal.

Hai's power over his subjects - Spanish and Chinese - could be seen as a reflection of how the Chinese are now very much a force in global economics. It is a representation last seen two years ago at Cannes in Matteo Garrone's award-winning Gomorra, in which unnamed Chinese businessmen operate clandestine garment factories supplying branded goods.

But more than just a two-dimensional exploiter, Hai speaks Spanish and is shown having real human relationships. He is seen enjoying family gatherings - a contrast to Uxbal's messy domestic life - while also conducting an illicit gay affair with an underling.

Moreover, he struggles with his conscience about his line of work - well, maybe not as much as the film's leading protagonist, but still a leap forward from the usual caricatures.

The same could be said of the Chinese hotel owner, Mrs Wang, in Chadian filmmaker Mahamat-Saleh Haroun's A Screaming Man. Played by Paris-based Chinese actress Li Heling, the character is the embodiment of the power of Chinese money flooding into African countries and taking over businesses in recent years.

Again, Wang's presence is pivotal to the story, as it is her decision to replace the ageing swimming pool attendant Adam (Youssuf Djaoro) with his more vigorous son, Abdel (Dioucounda Koma), that sparks the disintegration of the two men's relationship and, finally, a deadly tragedy.

Then again, Wang is not merely a cipher; rather than fleeing the hotel and the country when civil war sets in, she is seen staying on to the end, a helpless figure caught in the crossfire as much as Adam is.

Her final scene in the film sees her wandering towards Adam in the empty hotel, thanking him for his efforts and then ambling away, a sad and lonely figure.

Rather than a vulture for fast gains, Wang is portrayed as also a pawn who, when things go bad, can only look on as geopolitical power plays fall apart.

In this case, Haroun's view falls in line with Wang's and Jia's, half a world away.

Post