It
is hard to get around the symbolism of it all when a local village official
deals a swift kick to a peasant’s family jewels. Technically, that is not considered proper
behavior, but getting justice from the Party is a tricky undertaking. However, his pregnant wife is determined to
extract an apology in Zhang Yimou’s The
Story of Qiu Ju (trailer
here), which
screens tomorrow as part of MoMA’s Chinese Realities/Documentary Visions film series.
A
Golden Lion award winner at Venice, Zhang adapted Chen Yuanbin’s novella with a
documentarian’s eye for realistic detail—hence its inclusion in MoMA’s current
retrospective. Following Qiu Ju’s quest
for redress, her Story makes a
fitting companion film to Zhao Liang’s Petition
(also screening at MoMA), even though it is considerably more ironic and
less harrowing. Regardless, justice was
clearly an elusive proposition in 1990’s China (and remains so today).
During
a stupid argument, Wang Shantang applied said kick to Qinglai. While problematic under any circumstances,
injury to Qinglai’s reproductive organ carries far greater implications for the
couple due to China’s population control policies. Should Qiu Ju miscarry, they could be
permanently out of luck. Regardless,
Wang is not apologizing, so Qiu Ju presses her case up the administrative
ladder, with little support from the sulking Qinglai.
Needless
to say, Chinese officialdom is rather inclined to circle the wagons around one
of its own. There is indeed a pronounced
Kafkaesque element to the film. Yet, Qiu
Ju is no standard issue victim. Her
indomitable spirit is rather ennobling, in marked contrast to the typically depressing
protagonists of Sixth Generation social issue dramas and some of their Fifth
Generation forebears. Likewise, there is
an unusual gender reversal afoot, in which Qiu Ju trudges from town to city for
the sake of her principles, while the emasculated Qinglai hobbles about their
cottage.
In
a radical change-up from her glamorous image, Gong Li (an outspoken critic of
Chinese censorship) looks, sounds, and carries herself like an out-of-her-depth
peasant woman. Yet, her Qiu Ju has a
quiet fierceness and an affecting innocence that are unforgettable. Likewise, Kesheng Lei’s Wang makes a worthy
antagonist. It is one of those slippery
performances that are hard to either categorize or forget.
