The proto-industrial landscape of Northern China, a familiar one close to the director’s heart, is once again the setting for a story which – as in past outings by Zhang Meng – basically portrays the epoch-changing events in Chinese society, one that has gone from a state economy to a market one.
In his new film, the issue is dealt with through the character of a criminal, known by the rather pompous name of Uncle Victory; behind the façade of the tough guy, he hides a vulnerable side, a solitary soul and an inclination to give up. After having spent ten years in jail, he retakes possession of what was once his theatre. He discovers that during his absence, the theatre has been transformed into a kindergarten which is now on the road to ruin. The authorities convince the man to try to remedy the situation and, with the help of Xiao Mei, a nurse living a double life – by night she works in a nightclub – he throws himself heart and soul into renovating and managing the kindergarten.
The relationship Uncle Victory has with the little guests of the kindergarten gradually change him, making his gentler, more melancholic side surface. The man grows fond of the children, especially a couple of irresistible twins. The squalor of the industrial landscape which surrounds them – a sort of cathedral in the desert – is at the same time fascinating and eerie, almost underlining the miracle that has occurred in Uncle Victory’s soul.
Even what seems to initially be an ambiguous relationship with Xiao Mei is gradually transformed into a chance for emotional redemption. The time the two spend together allows them a glimpse of a ‘normal life’, while other moments show the brutality and cynicism of people embittered by life’s experiences. But the man’s past catches up with him, in the shape of shady characters that show up, hindering his attempt at finding peace and normality. We learn about his past from a series of black and white flashbacks, as well as from the tales told by some people who knew him before he went to jail. We see how even before the state economy, a system was brewing of endemic corruption and disrepute, even amongst simple workfolk. And the violent dynamics of the clash between labourers undermined by the technology revolution at the start of the economic reform and the privatization of industrial production.
The soundtrack – music which would seem more at home in a Western – seems to underline the innate violence in the dynamics which have shaken the society and the workforce in China over the past decade.
We don’t know if the changes taking place within Uncle Victory actually began in jail – the final scene in the film reserves an unexpected revelation on this matter – but the relationship with the children and with Xiao Mei certainly increase his desire to lead a different life. But the passage from old to new is difficult, full of fear and uncertainties; the spectre of loneliness looms in the melancholic and nostalgic atmosphere which pervade the film, especially in the formal construction of the very effective images.
The film has experienced as rocky a passage as the protagonist: despite having won the Grand Jury Prize at the Shanghai Film Festival in 2014, the film was not screened at the festival, nor was it released on the big screen due to a scandal involving the main star of the film, Huang Haibo.
Maria Barbieri