Spank's LFF Diary, Saturday 25/10/2003
This might be a stupid idea. Computer industry conferences being what they are, I didn't get to bed till after 2am on both Wednesday and Thursday night, and had to be up by seven the following morning. And after that, I spent Friday night seeing three movies back to back, and getting to bed after 3am. Still, this is Saturday morning, so theoretically I could be spending the morning catching up on much-needed sleep. But I'm not. Instead, I'm at the NFT watching a nine-and-a-quarter hour long documentary about the slow decline of an industrial town in north-east China. This might be a fucking stupid idea. In fact, the structure of Wang Bing's epic documentary isn't quite as intimidating as it first sounds. The film comes in nine one-hour episodes (the eighth one running a little longer than that), each of which has a distinct beginning and end: it would play quite happily as a weekly series on TV. For theatrical presentation, the episodes are collated into three long movies, each one dedicated to a particular aspect of the Shenyang region being investigated. The first part, Rust, is four hours long and looks specifically at the various smelting factories that constitute the heavy industry of Tiexi. Entirely shot by Wang on a single DV camera (camcorder users will recognise the distinctive creak of the hand strap all the way through the soundtrack), the digital format allows for lovely-looking contrasts between the cool white of the snowy exteriors, the dull green of the workers' break areas and the hellish reds of the factory floor. But after decades of success, the factories are starting to fail through lack of investment. "Film it now, it won't be around for much longer," says one worker glumly: and over a period of two years we watch as one by one the factories close and the life drains out of the town. The decline is filmed entirely from the workers' point of view: in a series of articulate interviews, they explain their frustration at not knowing what's really going on, and the film doesn't try to get a management perspective. Because this is a documentary about a community, rather than economics. We never really get to know the people here as individuals, but we come to like them a hell of a lot as a group: having drunken arguments over money, making plans about what they can loot from the factories before they close, singing a cheesy Cantopop version of The East Is Red at a karaoke night. If this was about the factories, the story would end after three hours when the last smelting factory is closed: instead, we get a welcome one-hour coda which follows their post-employment treatment for lead poisoning and their attempts to collect overdue salary.
The second three-hour film, Remnants, is based around another community: the one living in the optimistically-named Rainbow Row estate. Its poverty level is shown quite early on with a lottery winner claiming that he's currently between jobs, and has been for the last ten years. Unlike Rust, Remnants is keen to introduce us to the people here as individuals, and its first hour is cunningly dedicated to doing that by concentrating on the Rainbow Row kids. The children, conning can collectors out of money and swapping insults about their mothers' panties: the teenagers, hanging out at the local shop and trying to cop off with each other. Some of the funniest sequences in the entire film are in this first hour, but hanging over it all is the vague threat that suddenly comes to the foreground at the sixty minute mark: the area's been slapped with a compulsory purchase order for demolition and redevelopment, and everyone has to move out by the end of the year. The rest of Remnants feels a little overstretched because of its forced three-act structure: act two covering the events leading up to the eviction deadline, act three focussing on the small number who stay on in their homes despite intimidation and the loss of power and water. As a result, the material feels a little more manipulative, and you become aware of the work that's been done to coax a narrative out of two years of events. Most notably, those people who take up the offer of a replacement flat elsewhere are never seen again in the film, so there's no indication as to whether the undeniable community spirit of Rainbow Row was relocated in those flats or destroyed completely. But this focus does give the final shots some extraordinary power, as we realise just how much physical damage has been done to the area, to say nothing of the emotional damage. (Oh, in case you were wondering, this was the section where three nights of lost sleep started to catch up with me, so some of my memories of the middle hour of Remnants are a little vague. At one stage, I found myself listening to the Mandarin dialogue with my eyes closed, and somehow phonetically hearing it as English, taking several seconds to realise that the resulting English was utter nonsense. Remember that Hatten Är Din web animation of a few years ago, which showed the surreal consequences of transcribing an Arabic song lyric as if it was Swedish? Well, it was just like that. I can't remember too much about what I actually thought they were saying in the film, sorry.)
The greater part of Rails follows the story of old Du and his son Du Yang, and the rocky relationship between the two. This whittling down of focus from an entire community to just two people gives this final section some serious dramatic wallop. The key scene of Rails - father and son in a restaurant discussing how they feel about each other - goes through so many emotional handbrake turns in ten minutes, that if this was a fictional film, you'd dismiss it as being unrealistic. But the resolution to all this is more upbeat than what you'd expect from the other two segments, and makes for an immensely satisfying conclusion. I've reviewed Tiexi District: West Of Tracks as three films because it fits my page layout better. But it works beautifully as a single entity. Wang Bing's single-camera approach gives him remarkable flexibility, allowing him to capture fly-on-the-wall moments that a larger crew simply couldn't manage. There are individual images that resonate fabulously - the long walking shots through the smelting works both before and after closure, Du Yang quietly breaking down in the absence of his father, the cable factory opening up after the winter break to find everything literally under two feet of ice. A weekly TV slot is more likely to reach the general public than an all-day marathon like this, and in the current television climate even that's probably not going to happen: but hopefully someone will pick this up soon for wider distribution. You see, it's not such a stupid idea after all. Notes From Spank's PalsFail SafeSheryl Crow Fanclub - Back in the days when the world was in Black and White, America and the Soviet Union used to delight in taking each other to the brink of nuclear armageddon. The most celebrated instance of this being the Cuban Missile Crisis (possibly more on that tomorrow). Thus Fail Safe, made in 1964 (a year after Cuba), should no doubt have resonated with topicality (is that a real word?) upon release. The word is, however, that as Kubrick's Dr Strangelove was released the same year, this cautionary tale was somewhat overshadowed. October 26th 2003
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