Li Wake’s The Crack, at the Asia Society

Xiang Yang is a badly messed-up person. The CCP, the Gang of Four, and Chairman Mao are responsible for messing him up. He started life with a “bad class background” and things only got worse from there. Not surprisingly, the film telling his tragic and lurid story has been strictly censored in China, but Li Wake’s The Crack screens safely and legally for New Yorkers this Sunday, as part of the Asia Society’s Chinese Artists on the Edge film series.

It is not hard to deduce why the Party never wants its obedient subjects to see Li’s film. Not only does it forthrightly depict the cruelty of the Cultural Revolution, it is also extremely frank in terms of sexual subject matter, which offends the Party’s puritanical sensibilities. This is no joke. The Wake is not for children—but it should be widely screened by free thinking grown-ups.

Young Xiang Yang’s life took an ugly turn when the pretty tenant next door was fatally brutalized by the Red Guards. Even before that, she was victimized with impunity by her so-called “lover,” because he had the “right” class background. Xiang Yang would voyeuristically watch through a hole in their shared wall. Clearly, those experiences started warping his understanding of sexuality.

In the 1980s, the grown Xiang Yang yearns to attend art school, but again, his bourgeoise background represents an insurmountable obstacle. Instead, he must labor in a factory until he deliberately maims his own hand. The disability allowance gives him some leeway, but his sexual hangups will most likely undermine any serious attempts at a relationship.

It is quickly apparent why The Crack is so politically radioactive under the CCP’s jurisdiction. Li clearly suggests the violence and corruption of the Cultural Revolution directly leads to Xiang Yang’s anti-social perversion and his compulsive auto-eroticism. In fact, Xiang Yang’s self-gratification becomes a metaphor for the sloganeering and theatrical outrage roiling China during the 1960s.

The Crack is absolutely not out of place within the Asia Society’s experimental film series. Yet, despite the frequent temporal jumps forward and back, it is relatively easy to follow. However, the subject matter and the less than edifying nature of its protagonist makes the film unusually daring. Rather subversively, it uses techniques of early 20^th Century Communist propaganda novels and plays, by showing the cringe-inducingly corrosive and demeaning impact of the regime it critiques.

Indeed, The Crack is the product of extraordinary bravery, artistic and otherwise, on the part of Li and his collaborators. It is truly jaw-dropping to behold, if you fully understand the potential consequences. Of course, there are many rough edges, both by design and by necessity, but they are overshadowed by its integrity and passion. Very highly recommended for its historical significance and its artistic daring, The Crack screens this Sunday (9/6) at the Asia Society.