Still Life (Jia Zhang-Ke, 2006)
On 35mm at the PFA during the 51st SFIFF with Lucía, Ben, and Sunny, on 6 May 2008, at 20:45.
This is exactly my kind of film. Among other things, it is the epitome of the concept of film as a means of travelling to other places. While I am unlikely to ever see much of China beyond its major cities, trainlines, and maybe some natural landscape (assuming I even ever go to China), it is impossible that I will ever see the old town of 奉节 (Fengjie) along the 长江 (Yangtze River). Why? Because it is now flooded as a result of the 长江三峡大坝 (Three Gorges Dam). Seeing a unique opportunity to capture in film a 2300-year-old town in the transition to annihilation, 贾樟柯 (Jia Zhang-Ke) took his camera with him and assembled a simple story of two abandoned spouses come looking for their missing other halves.
The main character, Han Sanming (played by Han Sanming), is a miner that has come to Fengjie to look for his wife, who was sold to him, and who fled him 16 years earlier to return to her family. In particular he wants to see his daughter again. In order to make ends meet during his inquiries, he takes a job dismantling buildings. The other main character, Shen Hong (played by 赵涛 [Zhao Tao], probably the only professional actor in the film), has come to see her husband, who left two years ago to work in Fengjie, and has not been returning calls.
The film is in some sense post-apocalyptic, but in a most unusual way. We see the dismantling of a society that has only partially made it into the industrial age. Only once do we get a glimpse into the world of those that are behind this transition—a man who makes a phone call to have the lights on a bridge turned on, so he can show off his importance. For the rest of the film, we see things from the perspective of those that are affected by these decisions and those that take advantage of it.
This is a film that one senses would only be possible with small unobtrusive cameras and little need for artificial light. Most of the shots in the film could be swapped out with others, and while that would change entirely the character of the film, it would have no effect on the story itself. The camera does two things: it acts as an observer of the trials of Han Sanming and Shen Hong, and it provides us with what one might suppose are their observations of the world around them. While it is impossible to avoid providing us with a perspective of his own (and indeed, the whole film is his perspective), Jia Zhang-Ke strives to give us the raw materials of his own observations, leaving us to construct our own idea of what means what as much as possible.
I really hope this will get general distribution, or at least show up in the NY film fest this fall, because I’d love to see it again.
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