It has been called the year of amusement - a celebration of a China which is finally learning to have fun as well as work hard and make money. It all began with A Murder Sparked By A Chinese Bun, a web parody of Chen Kaige’s much-criticised epic film The Promise (Wu Ji). The enormous amount of hits this achieved, along with the waves it caused in the print press, finally convinced the movie industry that a sophisticated audience does exist in China. This audience doesn’t always want to see large scale event pictures. It also likes to watch smaller films which have interesting and witty stories. Proof-positive of this came recently when the relevant industry authorities proposed the creation of a circuit of art-house cinemas for lovers of non-mainstream cinema.
In this way, a new trend for movie parodies emerged. This has already provided several success stories. First of all, Crazy Stone (Feng Kuang De Shi Tou) by Ning Hao, a low-budget film, took 16 million RMB at the box-office - the equivalent of 2 million US dollars). This surpassed all national productions. It cloned scenes from other films, such as Mission: Impossible. A few months later, The Big Movie (Da Dian Ying, directed by A Gan) tipped its hat to a good twenty or so films, including, The Matrix, In The Mood For Love, and House Of Flying Daggers. It transformed them into a story which centered around the remarkable and worrying expansion of the real estate market in Shanghai. It was a parody, but one with a touch of social criticism. In the meantime, parodies of The Banquet (Ye Yan) by Feng Xiaogang and Curse Of The Golden Flower (Man Cheng Jin Dai Huang Jin Jia) by Zhang Yimou appeared on the web. The latter was provocatively named Curse Of The Golden Corset by internet users, hypnotised by the provocative busts of the actresses, emphasised by the elaborate costumes used in the film.
Rounding out a year which was distinguished by a desire to have fun were other comedies - less surreal but equally appealing. Some met with great critical and box-office success. One Foot Off The Ground (Ji Quan Bu Ning) by Chen Daming, was a bitter-sweet story of a group of traditional Chinese opera performers who, lacking the funds to continue their theatrical activities, try to find other ways to make ends meet. Call For Love (Ai Qing Hu Jiao Zhuan Yi), by Zhang Jianjia, was a romantic comedy about the hunt for the perfect, but non-existent woman. “She” was played by 12 actresses and celebrities. The film was released to coincide with the 2007 Chinese New Year, and replaced the traditional hesuipian by Feng Xiaogang.
The Case (Xiang Zi), by young director Wang Fen, is a black comedy about the discovery of a mysterious suitcase and the pursuit of happiness that follows. It should be a big hit. Xu Zheng and Wu Gang, the respective actors in these last two films, are among the most fascinating character actors of today, and have a talent for the most extraordinary and irresistible facial expressions. This makes them good at playing characters that are disoriented and unable to face the immense changes that Chinese society is going through in its inexorable modernisation.
But there was more to Chinese cinema this year than the comedies and the local blockbusters which do well at the box office. Still Life (San Xia Hao Ren) by Jia Zhangke - which was subject of a David and Goliath-like battle at the box-office, having been released at the same time as Curse Of The Golden Flower - and Courthouse On The Horseback (Ma Bei Shang De Fa Ting) by Liu Jie, remind us that a different China exists, one that is far from the modernity which is bandied about as the new image for the country. Films such as Young And Clueless (Qing Qun Ji) by Tang Danian and Thirteen Princess Trees (Shi San Ke Pao Tong) by Lü Yue tackle, in a delicate and serious manner, the universal subject of young people who are struggling to become adults.
The statistics released by the authorities for 2006 show an upward trend: 330 films were produced (up 27% compared to 2005), with 153 films released in the cinemas; 2.6 billion RMB (327 million US dollars) was taken at the box office (up 31%); 5.8 billion RMB (725 million dollars) in total revenues from the marketing of films. 82 new cinemas opened in the big cities, mainly multi-screens, thereby bringing the total number of screens to 3,100, an increase of 14%. 200 digital cinemas opened. 300 cinema production companies are operating in the country.
As for the 800 million agricultural workers and the 50,000 projection structures existing in rural areas (which include teams of travelling projectionists), the aim of the government - which has earmarked 23 million RMB per annum to improve these structures - is to guarantee at least one projection per month in every village.
27 nationally produced films have taken part in international festivals and cinema retrospectives abroad, obtaining a record 44 awards, most notably, the Golden Lion in Venice for Jia Zhangke. In the meantime, the Chinese government has organised 48 events for the promotion of its national cinema in 38 countries. Revenues from foreign sales were 1.9 billion RMB (240 million dollars), while the most successful films at the national box-office were Curse Of The Golden Flower (270 million RMB) and The Banquet (130 million).
As was the case the previous year, nationally produced films accounted for 55% of total box-office takings, exceeding those for imported blockbusters like The Da Vinci Code, King Kong and Mission: Impossible III. With regards to imports, there is a wide-spreading malaise amongst US distributors, troubled by the sudden and unexplained withdrawal of The Da Vinci Code from the big screen, the delay in the distribution of Mission: Impossible, and the frequent black-out periods for the release of foreign films in favour of nationally produced ones. In the meantime, the quota of blockbusters that may be imported is still 20 films per year.
As for the vicissitudes of censorship, the most high-profile case of the year was that of Lou Ye, punished with a 5 year ban for having taken his controversial film Summer Palace (Yi He Yuan) to the Cannes festival without the authorisation of the Film Bureau. The film, a passionate love story which takes place against the backdrop of the Tiananmen Square protests in 1989 and which contains explicit sex scenes, obtained permission for filming, but had not yet been approved for distribution before being presented at the festival. The director is no newcomer to these kinds of problems, seeing as he already got a two year ban on making films in 2000 for having produced Suzhou River (Su Zhou He) without any prior approval whatsoever. On the other hand, Jiang Wen, who had also been under a censorship ban following the unauthorised presentation of his film Devils On The Doorstep (Gui Zi Lai Le) at Cannes in 2000, was “rehabilitated”. He received approval to take part in the same festival with his new film, Sun Rises Again (Zai Tai Yang Sheng Qi De Di Fang), set during the Cultural Revolution.
With the project to reform the film classification system now long-forgotten, films keep appearing that are increasingly audacious, both in terms of content and form. Li Shaohong, after having won the first showdown against the censorship authorities with her previous film, Baober In Love (Lian Ai Zhong De Bao Bei) also managed to get approval for her new film, The Door (Men). It’s a disturbing psychological thriller about a young intellectual who is sucked into an obsessive vortex, with a nightmarish Chongqing providing the setting.
Another thriller, of the more traditional “ghost story” genre, is the film The Matrimony (Xin Zhong You Gui) by the director Teng Huatao (whose debut work One Hundred... was presented by the FEFF). It’s a love-triangle in which one of the three main characters is a ghost. But the film is fundamentally a love story, and a frightening and poetic one at that. It was released to coincide with St. Valentine’s Day. Curiosity Kills The Cat (Hao Qi Hai Shi Mao) by Zhang Yibai (whose Spring Subway was presented at the FEFF) has a Fatal Attraction-type dynamic. This was filmed in Chongqing, too, a city which, more than any other, lends itself to representing the dark side of the economic boom. 2006 saw the release of films to suit other tastes, like road movies. Getting Home (Luo Ye Hui Gen) by Zhang Yang, was based on a true news report. It’s about a seasonal labourer who makes an incredible journey to bring a work companion’s lifeless corpse back to his country of origin.
And there’s more: low-budget auteur pieces, such as Dreams May Come (Meng Xiang Zhao Jin Xian Shi) by Xu Jinglei, a super-intimate film which follows and further expands on the structure of the film Perpetual Motion (Wu Qiong Dong) by Ning Ying. The story is based solely on the dialogue between two people in the confined space of an apartment. Until a few years ago, films of this kind would never have been taken into consideration by distributors, who were careful to meet the needs of the mass market. It’s therefore a positive sign that, even if still in only a rudimentary way and with little sincerity, the film industry has started to make an effort to promote auteur films.
On the other hand, the impression is that the relevant industry authorities have understood that, not being able to change the course of history, it is much better to jump on the bandwagon. So the directors who were reviled, banned and, until recent years, considered to be problematic, are gradually becoming part of the mainstream - as long as they don’t “exaggerate”, as was Lou Ye’s case. Indeed, they are even used as a sort of subliminal nationalistic propaganda instrument.
Despite its many contradictions, the Chinese film industry continues to develop, and seems set to conquer new frontiers this year. The enthusiastic and playful tendency of 2006 could perhaps give way to a more sombre outlook. But whatever happens next, Chinese cinema has established now itself as an important phenomenon at home and abroad.
Maria Barbieri