The stereotype of the 21st century female that Chinese cinema has been presenting for some years now is shattered in The Old Cinderella by a well-rounded, credible but problematic woman who does not indulge herself in the cult of the “I”, but who battles against an uncomfortable reality to free herself from the sense of insecurity and prejudices which pervade her life.
Produced by the director Lu Chuan, based on a best-selling novel by Gao Ya’nan, who also contributed to the screenplay, the film tackles the burning issues of women whose husbands systematically betray them, the instability of the family in an increasingly frenetic urban context and the so-called “fuerdai”, the second generation spoilt, rich youth.
The story revolves around Xu Ke, a thirty-something woman, played convincingly by Zhang Jingchu, who has decided to leave her husband; he is in love with her but his narcissism prevents him from remaining faithful to her. A divorced woman with a five year-old, even if she is young and independent (she works as a tourist guide for travellers abroad), she is considered to be without hope for a future in modern-day China, unless she finds a man who will take her on board. Xu Ke is not immune to this kind of mentality, believing her life to be all but over, so she listlessly goes on blind dates with unlikely men that her best friend, a level-headed man-eater, arranges for her. The situation changes when Xu drives her car into an attractive, rich, young Taiwanese man’s; she runs into him again in one of the groups of tourists she accompanies to Israel. He treats her like an old lady, scorns her, but is somehow attracted to her honest, impulsive nature. They meet again by chance at a promotional event, and from that moment on, Xu finds herself battling between her attraction for the young businessman who is now trying to woo her and having misgivings about having left her husband, who is predictably torn up with regret, trying to win her back.
The finale seems to be heading towards an obvious rom-com ending, but the dynamics between the characters gets complicated, mainly due to the stubborn, inflexible Xu, who believes herself to have become unlovable, undesirable. The tone of the film is at times light, with some touches of naïve humour – the book it is based on became a hit amongst a young, urban female readership thanks to the familiarity and comedy of the dialogues. But it often slides into the dramatic, especially in the scenes with the husband, where Xu’s inner turmoil surfaces in an almost violent manner. The main female character is an intriguing one – despite being in a rom-com narrative, she remains anchored to the reality of real Chinese women, ones who are not necessarily beautiful, sexy and romantic. She is a woman who, as her husband states in a moment of vulnerability, does not have the need either “to be forgiven or of solidarity”. Another interesting aspect of the film is the part of the story – following the trend for films to have scenes set in increasingly exotic locations – shot in Israel. The austerity of the landscape and the holy sites coupled with the lack of familiarity the Chinese public has with such settings, contribute to transmitting the existential discomfort of Xu, but also the sense of comfort she derives from the anonymity of an unknown place where the future is a blank page where there is an absence of the prejudices that have so far been her travelling companion.