China Film Journal

Earlier this year, we prefaced our interview of a rising star in film with the provocative title, The World is Not Enough: Has Jia Zhangke Permanently Left the Art House?

I should hope not. From my view Stateside it seems that Jia Zhangke (贾樟柯) has just arrived. After all, I had been waiting since 2006 for the U.S. release of Still Life (Sanxia Haoren: literally, “The Good People of Three Gorges”). So I waited. And waited. And wouldn’t you know, I waited.

Still Life made its American premiere in January 2008 at New York’s IFC Center. It reached the West Coast in April, at the San Francisco International Film Festival, and a month later, showed for a week at one of the Lumiere Theatres in the Bay Area. In other words, an art house. So is Jia leaving the art house, just as he has entered it?

I think two different meanings of that phrase at play. One is subjective, about the film itself: serious, often experimental and avant-garde, produced independently, with a singular vision (i.e. that of an auteur). One is objective, the circumstances in which the film and by extension, the filmmaker, is received: where it plays and what audience.

The term “art house” or “art film” turns out to be a uniquely American one, due to the monopoly of commercially-oriented Hollywood films in American theaters (and abroad), leaving acknowledged serious films domestic and international limited to certain theaters. They could be specialty film centers such as the IFC in New York or Gene Siskel Film Center in Chicago, or repertory theaters that show classics for a day and new releases for a week, two on popular demand. In the suburbs, they could be the occasional chain-operated theater set aside for niche movies, or the single screen reserved at the 30-plex theater.

An independent film with strong prospects may open at several dozen screens. For example, a Jane Austen adaptation starring Emma Thompson (and a not-so-famous Kate Winslet). Sense and Sensibility opened at 70 screens in 1995. That sounds like a lot, but with nearly 300 million people and 400 metropolitan areas, it clearly did not show within driving distance of many Americans. In contrast, The Dark Knight opened at over 4000 screens in the US. The art film’s initial unqualified success did allow it to expand to several hundred screens, thus “leaving the art house”.

A more recent example is the phenomenon known as Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. Buoyed by the art house successes of Sense and Sensibility and The Ice Storm, Ang Lee’s film was able to open at . . . 16 screens!! Two reasons come to mind. Foreign language films have smaller potential audiences, and so they started smaller. Also, they opened smaller at the start of December to build up to Christmas season.

Well Christmas came and went, and a month later it was playing at close to 200 screens, so it was bumped to 700 screens for another three weeks. But wait, it wasn’t going away. In fact those 700 screens were packed. So well after the holiday season, Crouching Tiger played at 1200 screens, then 1700…until it reached an unheard-of 2000 screens for a foreign language film. The punctuated equilbrium of this theatrical progression is fascinating to chart. It appears the powers that be expected such a film only needed 173 screens when it opened those screens, and when it exceeded all expectations, took some time before it made non-art screens available to the wire-fu epic. Put another way, it was the Obama of the cinema world.

At its theatrical peak, in February 2008, Still Life played at two screens. The World, his previous international success, hit three screens in the US. Of course, none of these record film festival screenings, which are lovely feathers in the cap but do little for accessibility. Seattle on May 23 and Austin on October 12? No thanks. Given the 4000+ screens available in the US, it seems even the proliferation of international films can find their, um, niche in a physical art house. Perhaps Netflix and soon the Internet will render inconsequential the movie bottleneck in the theaters. But the reviews, the buzz, the “event-ness” of a film today accompany generally just its theatrical release.

There is another world, one that falls somewhere between the visibility of repertory theaters and the singularity of film festivals. That’s the art museum world. At some point art museums decided to show international films as part of its regular exhibitions. Perhaps it’s an extension of their experimental film and video showings, or as a long awaited acknowledgment of narrative film as art with a capital “A”. While each film shows for a day or two, the program (often focusing on one filmmaker) may last weeks, giving the curious time and opportunity to taste some of the oeuvre.

The San Francisco Bay Area is fortunate to have several such venues for film. This month, SF Museum of Modern Art is showing the film series Rediscovering the Fourth Generation as part of its exhibit on Chinese contemporary art. Films include Wu Tian Ming’s River Without Buoys, Xie Fei’s Black Snow, and Huang Shuqin’s Woman Demon Human.

Yerba Buena Center for the Arts tends to focus on experimental and documentary type films. Next month it premieres Fengming: A Chinese Memoir by Wang Bing, which showed at last year’s Cannes. Here’s the Variety review. He Fengming survived “anti-rightist” persecutions for decades and lived to tell her three-hour tale.

Across the Bay, the Berkeley Art Museum’s Pacific Film Archive functions more like a stand-alone film center. Though nominally tied with the art museum’s contemporary Chinese art exhibit, the PFA had an extraordinary program this month. Unknown Pleasures: The Films of Jia Zhangke allowed Bay Area audiences to see for the first time “the quartet of beautifully constructed, profoundly astute examinations of a changing China”, as the Village Voice called Pickpocket (Xiao Wu), Platform, Unknown Pleasures, and The World.

That series has ended but is followed up this weekend with a four-day, five-film seriesI Love Beijing: The Films of Ning Ying , capped by a “master class” from Ning Ying (宁瀛) herself. But wait, there’s more! November features Mahjong: New Independent Chinese Cinema, a sample of 21st century visions from Beijing, Sanxia, and Anyang to an art house, I mean art museum, near you.

Boomtown Beijing does fulfill its basic mission of capturing how ordinarhy Beijing residents are preparing for the Olympics. It’s an interesting cross-section of Beijing–there;s an old man practicsing magic sticks, a nearly blind sprinter preparing for the Paralympics, a young boy who wants to be torch-bearer even though he’s too young. These are people who are lit up, from the inside, by their dreams, but wwho are, nonetheless, quite aware of the possibility that their dreams will never come to pass.

The only real complaint that I had with this movie was that it was a bit too rough, and by this I mean its editing and structure, rhythm and pacing–there were several characters, each developed in parallel. The ccharacters were introduced with subtitles, rather than narration–somehow it came across a bit haphazard. There was no real connection between any of the characters, which made each one a separate vignette, tied together “externally” only by the fact that we know they are all preparing, in their way, for the Olympics. Although by including all these disparate characters we are offered more information, it never gelled together; there was no cohesive narrative, the pace sometimes seemed slow, since we were always a bit in teh dark as to what was happening with each character.

I’m not the type of film viewer that likes to be told everything, and I’m also a part-time fan of the fly-on-the-wall school of filmmaking, which dispenses with talking heads and narrators imposing their version of events on you. However, there were times when I wish Boomtown Beijing had precisely that–something or someone weaving the threads together. We go from the characters and their individual quests to investigations of the changing physical landscape of Beijing–which is fine, since the latter is an intellectually interesting topic in itself and also terribly topical because the ancient capital is, in many ways, getting a major facelift, and what was will never be again. However, Boomtown Beijing dips its toes in the water but doesn’t want to get too wet. Given that it was made by students and staff at the Beijing Film Academy on a obviously shoestring budget, perhaps we shouldn’t ask that it go too into depth. It wasn’t meant to be some Ken Burns-esque heavy on historical research and overview type documentary. I am merely stating what I felt as I was watching it. Perhaps it is to the film’s credit that it at least elicits this greater curiosity in the subject.

By the end of the film you get a better sense of who each person is, and things start falling into place. Still, there’s not much narrative thrust…as I said before, the film seems to be have made in a short time, on the cheap, and life isn’t always as packed with drama as fiction is. I think Boomtown Beijing works as a light sketch of life for some Beijing Olympics fanatics in the run-up to the games–but not necessarily as a highly nuanced or detailed portrait of a human and physical/built environment in flux. The latter is higher order, no doubt, that will have to be left to someone with more time and credit cards.
Technorati Tags: beijing, olympics, 2008, sports, athletics, documentary, video, chinese, china, society

A quick post about some earthquake and film related news: first off, Jia Zhangke, at the Cannes Film Festival where his new film 24 City was recently screened, lead a moment of silence for the earthquake victims and dedicated the film to the memory of the victims. The film is actually set in Chengdu, Sichuan.

Jet Li donated one million yuan and his charitable foundation, the One Foundation, has collected 28.05 million yuan and is sending supplies to Sichuan.

And lastly, a 17 member team of filmmakers is making a documentary about the earthquake. The film is provisionally entitled “Wenchuan” and they started filming on May 14, two days after the earthquake happened.

Do films with titles like “Feathers of Dongtan” and “Sounds. Breaths” give you a tingle in your special area? If not, fret not, there’s still some time to develop that acquired taste which is promotional films for really-big-Chinese-events. “Vision Shanghai”, like “Vision Beijing,” is going to feature documentary films by famous directors, thought the names of those directors have yet to be released. However, Shanghai Film Group has announced its next Expo film, a full-length doc by Jia Zhangke. We’ve been hearing about this intermittently for awhile, and whatever our reservations about promo films, we’re still curious to see what Jia’s up to with this film.The article says that trailers are being shown on TV soon, but we haven’t seen anything new on the video-sharing sites.

From Blogcritics.org we find a post about Orlando Bloom taking the lead role in the upcoming Hong Kong Phooey live-action movie. Toonzone links to a Variety article reports that Bretter Ratner’s Rat Entertainment is going to produce this film. Kirsten Dunst is reportedly playing the lead female character, telephone operator Rosemary. The movie is based on a short-lived Hanna-Barbara Saturday morning cartoon. Blogcritics says that Johnny To is going to direct – and then proceeds to call To the “Jerry Bruckheimer of Hong Kong,” which we would find insulting if we were To. But who knows, maybe he’d take it as a compliment.

Supporters of Tang Wei, the Lust, Caution that was recently banned by SARFT, has become a bit of a cause celebre – Danwei translates an open letter to Hu Jintao and Wen Jiabao asking that she be allowed to work again.

Lastly, again from Variety, is news that some French films are going to screen in Shanghai as part of the fifth French Film Panorama： “Pics include “Asterix at the Olympic Games,” “Towards Zero,” “Hunting and Gathering,” “Dragon Hunters” and “Go West! A Lucky Luke Adventure.” We were just in Paris and some of these movies are still being advertised and still showing in the theaters. So they’re newish movies, yes, but tend to fall on the schlocky side of the spectrum. Not really the most representative slice of French film perhaps, but in case you’re interested, this is happening from April 15-19, though we don’t know which four Shanghai cinemas they are screening at.Technorati Tags: tang wei, lust, caution, ban, censorship, China, SARFT, hong kong phooey, orlando bloom, johnnie to, cartoons, comics, jia zhangke, documentary, Expo, worldexpo, 2010

Hidden in plain view among the abundant offerings of this year’s San Francisco International Asian American Film Festival (which runs from March 13 to 23) was a program of four short films under the title By Hand. Aside from the delightful opening bit of animation, three were documentaries featuring men of a certain craft, from a pushcart cinema operator in India, to the proprietors of a halal slaughterhouse in New York, who intend to pass their hand-made talents to their children.

In Salim Baba, the pushcart man has several sons who already help him on his daily runs through Calcutta, wheeling the cart with his century-old, custom-rebuilt film projector to show eager children an assortment of classic Bollywood videos and trailers, which the old man cuts and splices himself. The skills will be passed on, but it remains to be seen whether such an out-of-time tradition will survive our digital age.

When we first meet 27-year-old Imram in A Son’s Sacrifice, his dress and demeanor suggest hip-hop more than halal. The business his elderly Bangladeshi father started in Queens has flourished, thanks to the influx of South Asian, African, and West Indian immigrants into New York. All he needs is a successor, whom he finds in his hamburger-eating, half-Puerto Rican son, whose competence is exceeded only by his devotion to his family.

But the centerpiece was Tailor Made: Chinatown’s Last Tailors, where brothers Bill and Jack Wong are the endearing victims of their own success story, and seem quite comfortable with it. Their father started Modernize Tailors in 1913, and the two eldest brothers have run the business for the past fifty years. In the postwar boom, they were the largest men’s tailor shop in Vancouver, employing 20 people and suiting up celebrities like Sean Connery and Gordon Lightfoot. In the off-the-rack, globalized 21st century, they still do a boutique business, from the mayor of Vancouver who rolls in throwing around a few Cantonese phrases, to the department store who seeks them out for their vintage Singer Buttonholer, which is almost as old as they are.

They are now 85 and 83, and their North American success story has produced an extended family of doctors, business folk, and other professionals, but no tailors. It turns out that neither Bill or Jack intended to take this path either. After World War II, they both graduated with engineering degrees, but were unhireable as Canadian Chinese. Nevertheless it’s clear the wise and witty Bill loves the business he turned to because of the limits white society imposed upon him. The more reticent Jack tends to stay in the background. When asked about his trade, he says at one point, “Maybe I can be a carpenter,” a remark expressing both ambivalence in his path and as well as an inherently hopeful attitude that’s made them and Modernize Tailors endure.

Their youngest brother Milton, whom they helped raise, did breach the wider world, and spectacularly, as an investment banker, university chancellor, and Order of Canada honoree. As a gift to his brothers, he buys the original storefront which he then converts into a retirement home-cum-living museum and work shop, for the brothers to continue part-time tailoring. The only thing left to do, is find a successor to take over their store.

It is this search which takes up the lion’s share of the CBC documentary, with two strikingly different candidates. One is an Asian-American architect and part-time fashion reporter, who is attracted by the artistry as well as a desire to make connections with his roots. Unfortunately he does not sew and never really picks up the essential skills, which dashes his romantic and somewhat rose-tinteed aspirations. It’s a testament to Bill’s integrity, that he dissuades the apprentice from continuing at the probable cost of seeing the shop close forever.

The other apprentice candidate, a Caucasian, who turns up is none other than the tailor from Holt Renfrew, the department store client of Modernize. Unlike the architect, he can sew and do all the tailor stuff well. That makes him attractive to the fashionistas on London’s Saville Row, where our young tailor ends up. He comes back to break the news to Bill, but not before he shares a Saville Row catalogue and we are let in on a rich moment: young tailor points out excitedly to old tailor that the haute coutre fabric of the day can be found right on his shelves, to which Bill replies laconically, “So, it’s back in fashion.” Young tailor decides to return to Saville Row, but not before both apprentices and many family members help them move across the street to their new old home.

The film ends with a postscript, showing the now part-time tailors at their new shop. I felt comforted by that sight, as well as by this Vancouver Sun article. In addition to more background on the Wongs and Vancouver Chinese, it indicates that the Chinatown area, long in decline, may be poised for a resurgence that could support once again an exemplar of craft such as Modernize Tailors. But Bill and Jack Wong are irrevocably the last of something – they are the final generation of pioneers, every bit as pioneer as the frontiersmen, trailblazers, and homesteaders of the North American West – and I strongly hope that people who see this story will begin to view the brothers and their achievement in that same spirit.

Tailor Made: Chinatown’s Last Tailors

Directed by Leonard lee, Marsha Newberry

Canada 2007, 45 min.