Zhang Yimou's New Film Reveals Softer Side Of China

News Feature, Pueng Vongs, New America Media

The director of "House of Flying Daggers" and "Raise the Red Lantern" pays homage to China's rural values and beauty in "Riding Alone for Thousands of Miles."

Sep 07, 2006

As China continues its economic transformation and materialism runs rampant, acclaimed Chinese director Zhang Yimou offers an antidote to big city distractions. In his new film "Riding Alone for Thousands of Miles," Zhang returns to his spare, emotional palette with a focus on human relationships. He offers a glimpse into a China that is disappearing, paying homage to the country's historic heart -- rural life -- and the warm embrace of communal culture.

The film shows a little-seen side of the behemoth. Films about China have been dominated by period pieces or kung fu epics. Zhang dabbled in the latter his last two times out.

After directing the elaborate martial arts films "Hero" and "House of Flying Daggers," Zhang gets back to basics in "Riding Alone." Sweeping productions of imperial China are replaced by the stunning natural beauty of the country's Southwest. Fast-paced kung fu action is set aside for the real drama of human relationships and emotional connection.

The film recalls Zhang's early filmography, which intricately peeled away the layers of Confucian culture, revealing the pulsating vulnerability underneath. A scene from my first Zhang film, "Raise the Red Lantern," released in 1992, still haunts me today. The film is about a young woman sold as the fourth wife to an elderly landlord in 1920s China. Each night the landlord would hang a bright red lantern outside the door where he intends to spend the night. The stark scene of the crimson glow of the lantern against the silver blue maze of homes at twilight transcends multiple levels of personal and societal bleakness.

This film is cut from that cloth. It centers around aging Japanese fisherman Gou-ichi Takata, played by famous Japanese actor Ken Takakura. Takata is desperate to redeem himself to his seriously ill son, to whom he has been estranged for many years. To gain his son's favor, Takata travels to China's Yunnan province to film a performance by a master Chinese folk opera singer whom his son admired.

We see the toll of the years of emotional separation between father and son when the quiet, simmering Takata finally breaks. He pleads with the town's administrator to let him film the opera singer, who is in prison for a petty crime. In the scene we see only Takata's white knuckles holding up a banner offering his thanks in Chinese kanji. Takata hides behind the banner occasionally lifting his head slightly to reveal watery eyes.

"The film is an investigation into the way people interact and an attempt to study the unique sense of unconditional love between a father and son," Zhang says.

While much of mainstream focus of China has been on its booming cities, Zhang points the camera squarely on the countryside with his signature breathtaking cinematography. Majestic snow-capped mountains shoulder the emotional weight of the film and copper ringed slot canyons offer shelter to fragile characters. "I filmed in Yunnan province because the scenery and atmosphere has a look of a still-life painting that complimented this intimate portrait of filial love," Zhang says.

In China today, rivers are increasingly being polluted by industrial waste and villagers are being jailed for opposing government land grabs. Villages are thinning as residents are lured to exploding cities, and traditional, communal values are fading. Zhang's film captures the pockets of rural life that still remain. The residents of Yunnan offer generous support to the stranger. When Takata offers to pay a guide for his help, the guide returns the money after he finds out the reason Takata is there. Villagers also readily adopt Zhang and his cause as their own.

Zhang used actors who were largely non-professional in order to get an authentic feeling in the film, he says. "I wanted to make a film about unconditional love and simple relationships between real people, so we had to dig deeper emotionally," said Zhang.

Even the film's title harkens back to simpler times in China's history. The song that Takata wants to film the master opera singer performing is the name of the movie, "Riding Alone for Thousands of Miles," taken from the literary Chinese classic Romance of the Three Kingdoms. In the opera, the song is sung by the character General Guan Yu, well known in Chinese folklore as a symbol of loyalty when he refused titles and riches to ride thousands of miles to help a friend.

Unlike Zhang's earlier movies that center around alluring female characters played by Gong Li ("The Story of Qiu Ju," "To Live") and Zhang Ziyi ("The Road Home"), this film is dominated by males. Quiet, intensely charismatic actor Takakura is known as Japan's Clint Eastwood. Zhang says he has wanted to make a film with him for many years. "Takakura was my childhood idol and it has always been my dream to work with him. We have been talking about 'Riding Alone for Thousands of Miles' for five to six years now."

Zhang, whose films were once banned in China, is on much better footing with Beijing these days. Perhaps that is why the film includes mild portraits inside a Chinese prison headed by a sympathetic warden. Much was idyllic in this film; surprisingly there was no hint of underlying Japanese-Chinese tensions fueled by decades of lingering hate over Japanese war crimes. But perhaps Zhang's film can be seen as a bridge attempting to connect the two sides. After all, it is a story of lessons learned from the past. Unlike some of his earlier works, "Riding Alone" shows a future filled with the hope of redemption.

Pueng Vongs is an editor at New America Media.