Review | Berlin 2019: So Long, My Son film review – fallout from one-child policy in China explored
- Wang Xiaoshuai returns to form with this story of how a couple in China, and their friends, cope with the death of their only son
- Despite its sombre narrative, the film, the first in a promised trilogy, may be Wang’s most upbeat yet. Hope and understanding permeate its ending
3.5/5 stars
Another year, another decade-spanning relationship drama from one of China’s so-called sixth-generation filmmakers. Wang Xiaoshuai’s So Long, My Son, which received its world premiere at the Berlin International Film Festival on Thursday, is more empathetic and fulfilling than Jia Zhangke’s Ash Is Purest White , which received its premiere at the 2018 Cannes Film Festival.
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The story of how a couple in China cope with the death of their only child, the film – the first in Wang’s promised “Homeland Trilogy” – is a subtle depiction of human relationships, even if it unrolls rather slowly and its intercut timelines are confusing.
It eschews simplistic allusions to the changes that have swept China in the past 40 years, yet the film doesn’t avoid social commentary; on the contrary, the story itself can be read as a scathing critique of the country’s one-child policy, recently scrapped. There are also powerful scenes illustrating the painful fallout from China’s manic lurch towards capitalism in the 1980s and early 1990s. But they never distract from Wang’s goal, which is to show how ordinary people grapple with grief and moral dilemmas.
Set sometime in the late 1990s, the film continues Wang’s exploration of themes such as the significance of blood relations (seen in his earlier film In Love We Trust, for example) and the repercussions of guilt (Red Amnesia).
So Long, My Son’s central thread unfolds in a small seaside town in Fujian in the country’s southeast, where Yaojun (Wang Jingchun) and Liyun (Yong Mei) run a boat-repair business. Their sulking son, Xingxing (Wang Yuan), is straying dangerously close to delinquency; after a row with Yaojun, the teenager leaves home. Their heated exchanges reveal they have moved to southern China from somewhere else, and that he is not their biological son.
Through flashbacks, the reason for the conundrum the couple face is gradually revealed. Their life of contentment as happy parents and workers at a state-owned factory in Inner Mongolia begins to unravel when Liyun is forced by Haiyan (Ai Liya), a brutal “family planning cadre” and the wife of Yaojun’s best friend, Yingming (Xu Cheng), to abort what would have been their second child. Having suffered complications during the operation, Liyun emerges from hospital no longer able to conceive again.
The relevance of this sinks in eight years later, when the couple’s son drowns in an accident. While they grieve, the death also hits Haiyan hard. Realising her role in rendering her friends childless, she becomes paranoid about people speaking ill of her; the fact her own son might have had something to do with the accident only makes things worse for her. While she and Yingming decide to do nothing to right their wrongs, Yingming’s sister Moli (Qi Xi) tries to atone for their sins.
Despite its sombre story, So Long, My Son may be Wang’s most upbeat film yet. Hope and understanding permeate its ending, set in the present – a happy reunion where past misdeeds are forgotten or absolved.
Bolstered by measured performances from his cast and Lu Dong’s subtly effective production design, So Long, My Son signals a return to form for one of Chinese cinema’s favourite sons.
